Strut the Mall (Love at Westbrook Mall #4)

32. Phone A Friend

32

Phone A Friend

Zack and Shelby spent all week figuring out a time we could meet, and finally came up with a weekday none of us were working. He’d texted me in general besides the plan updates, though. He’d send me sunrise pictures from when he was shoveling or update me on random family things. At home, I could soak my feet and chat with him on speaker, but tonight at work, I had to sneak into the sorting area to text him at all. The blinking green light on my phone was a beacon to something wonderful. I cleared away the social app notifications and opened our texts.

Zack: Shelby brought home another leftover cupcake. I don’t think my blood sugar has ever been higher.

Me: You’ll just have to work out more ;) you can come brush off my car

Zack: Do you want me to?

I crossed my ankles to keep my thighs pressed together. I couldn’t tell if we were flirting. Even if we were, what was I going to do? Invite him to hook up in the break room? Ask him to meet me at my place for a movie? It was too risky the day before our big plans.

Me: No need to come back to the mall for me. I’ll see you tomorrow, right?

Zack: Yeah. Mom and the aunts told May about our double date, and now she wants to come play games with us. [dead stare emoji]

I chuckled and leaned on the sorting counter.

Me: Maybe we can bring her a plushie from those crane game things

Zack: No way. Those have to be rigged. We’re not supposed to keep too much stuff in our houses anyway or else it’s hard to clean. That’s part of why Shelby’s leaving.

Me: She’s leaving? Where? To move in with Harvey?

Zack: Maybe eventually. We’re looking at apartments together.

Could she afford a place on her princess salary? Could he, working three jobs already?

Me: I thought you were saving to start your landscaping business.

Zack: I am.

He struck me as the kind of guy who wouldn’t move out until he got married. Even then, he’d probably show up to shovel his family’s driveways in the morning and take care of his mom in her twilight years. He stood by the people he loved.

I wasn’t sure I wanted to be tied down to a family forever, but if he stood by me…

Cassandra popped around the counter. “Hello.”

I flinched and clutched my phone to my chest. “Hey, I thought you were Andre.”

“No, he’s finishing the walkthrough.” She plopped some shoes onto the sorting rack. None of them had been put back right, so the tissue paper was all askew. She snuck a pair of tiny Zeezy’s out of one of the boxes. “What do you think of these?”

I fucking hated that brand. Burn them, I wanted to say. “They seem a little small for you,” I managed.

“They’re for my grandson. His birthday’s coming up.” She smiled, stroking the tiny soles.

“That’s a generous gift.” Especially on a Fancee’s-only salary. “I’m sure he’ll like them. Won’t he outgrow those pretty fast though?”

She held the shoes to her heart. “Oh, I know, but he deserves to feel special. I want him to know his Meemaw loves him.”

“That’s sweet.” Maybe I was being too stingy since no one ever did grand gestures like that for me. Although Zack seemed to do something nice on the daily: shoveling, putting away boxes, and telling me I was pretty. But he was helpful even for people he wasn’t dating.

“Do you want to punch out for a minute and I’ll ring you up?” I asked.

“Yes, thanks. Who were you texting by the way? A certain muscle man?” She wagged her brows.

“Yes.” It was obvious we were an item since we’d been taking breaks together. Plus, he had been extra attentive to our department—and not just for potential hookups in the stacks. He’d often say, “Hey” sharp enough Andre could hear him upstairs. Then, Zack would ask me about my day or tease me about being on my phone again. Almost like a friend.

I stroked his icon in our texts, a selfie from our early days of dating. His square jaw was totally unfiltered. So was my smile. But the image of us as a happy couple was fake in other ways, right? I put my phone away and tried not to overthink it.

After all, I had plenty of drama in my client inbox. Those guys lamented frigid wives, cold exes, and annoying bosses. I distracted them from their problems. By now, I’d perfected putting mine in a compartment.

A while later, I put on Stylin’ Miles for the drive home. He was my distraction. Another musician. But he wasn’t like Theo or Zack. Our love could last forever.

My notifications pinged, and my car dashboard lit up with a text.

Zack: You ok?

Weirdo. I poked his contact info to call him back.

“Hello?” he answered.

“Why wouldn’t I be okay?” I asked.

“It’d been a while since you texted back, and you’re always on your phone, so…I don’t know.”

I smiled at the mental image of him messing up his stupid haircut. Why would he be worried about our last conversation?

“I’m fine. Just had to help Cassandra finish her section, and Andre was on our asses. Can I say ‘ass’ or are you with the fam?”

“I’m in bed.” He chuckled.

“So you want me to say ‘ass?’” I teased. “Should I tell you what I’d do to it?”

“No, I can probably imagine,” he said.

My heart skipped a beat.

Had he imagined it? What I could do to him?

He cleared his throat. “I mean, if you were here, it’d be different.”

I flexed my fingers around the steering wheel. “Are you asking me to come over on a weeknight?”

“No. I–I wish you could. But I’ve got an early morning, and my mom would wake up, so—”

“Right.” I doubted he’d ever brought home a booty call, and our arrangement didn’t include sleepovers.

“I’d still like to talk to you until you get home,” he said.

“Why?”

“To make sure you’re safe.”

I cackled and propped my elbow on the window sill. “Okay, Dad.”

“What? I can’t worry about my girlfriend?”

Fake girlfriend, I almost corrected. “Do you do this for Shelby? Make her stay on the line after a long day of princess duty?”

“No, but she lives across the street. It’s easier to check in.” Something rustled in the background on his end of the line. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.” I steadied my grip at the top of the wheel.

“Is it lonely, living by yourself?”

Lonely…

I drove into the night, pops of light decorating the streets like a runway home. My phone and the dashboard glowed with connection.

“It’s peaceful,” I said. Everything was exactly the way I wanted it. Sure, it was fun to imagine him waiting at home for me in nothing but gray sweatpants, but I wasn’t about to clear out my drawers for him to move in. “Are you nervous about getting an apartment?”

“I don’t know.” He sniffed. “It was different in college. I missed Mom’s cooking and stuff, but I had a meal plan, a roommate, teammates, friends, classes—”

“And a girlfriend,” I reminded him.

“Yeah.” He scoffed. “And then, they moved on. No one wanted to stay in during my recovery period, and I wasn’t in any shape to go anywhere. So, I’d call my mom. She’d fill me in on family drama, ask about my progress, and send food to get my strength up. She even came to help me with my laundry a few times. God, that probably sounds pathetic.”

“No, it’s sweet.” At least in this context. “You do your own laundry now, right?”

“Yes.”

“Thank god.” I grinned, sliding into the right-hand lane. “I’m not going to praise you for basic adulting, though. As far as I know, you can only make tuna sandwiches and mow the lawn.”

“I can do a lot more than that, Nic. And I'm happy to learn the rest.”

I bet he was.

I drummed my nails on the steering wheel. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Why are you moving out? You’re obviously a family man, you’re trying to save money, and a house would be a better place to store stuff for a landscaping company. Or are you that determined to get away from them bugging you about getting a girlfriend?”

“It’s not that.” He sighed. “I was supposed to buy my mom a house, you know? Not live in her basement. I think if I’m not holed up here, they’ll worry about me less. I want to feel like I have a life outside them again."

I squinted at the lights of my condo building. “You know you’ll still be living with your cousin?”

“She’ll be at Harvey’s place,” he demurred.

“Does that mean you can finally have girls over past nine p.m.?” I grinned, parking my car.

“Yes. We can hang out more then.”

Was he saying we'd hang out more when we were alone and not trying to convince anyone we’re boyfriend and girlfriend?

“O-okay. That’s a plan,” I said.

“Sorry it’s like this right now.” He yawned. “When did you move out? How many modeling gigs before you got independence?”

“I left the day I turned eighteen. I stayed with a friend for a few weeks before I could put a down payment on this place.” I grabbed my stuff and headed inside, each step snapping against the pavement. “The gigs didn’t come right away. I had to work retail to pay for my headshots, build my portfolio, and then… Well, you know, at eighteen, I got more opportunities.” I could sell pictures of my feet.

“What’s your portfolio like? Your social media?”

“No; nothing you’d want to see. It’s kind of embarrassing.” I fumbled for my keys and avoided the blurred reflection in the metallic doors.

“I figured we were embarrassment-proof at this point. You caught me changing in the stacks.”

“Hey, I’m not complaining.” I giggled and poked the call button in my building. Damn, was that too forward again? We were flirting. Actually flirting. No audience, just sleep-deprived teasing. I sucked in a shaky breath. “Maybe after our double date, I can show you some things. You know, if we’re alone, and you still want to know…”

If he still wanted the real me.

“I will.” He sounded like he was smiling.

Was that possible or just wishful thinking? I shook my head. “I’m about to step into the elevator, so I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Text me when you get into your apartment.” His voice was gruff with exhaustion and tinged with teasing.

My heart fluttered, so I tucked my phone against my cheek. “Okay, Dad. And just so you know, if you ever get lonely, you can always call me.”

“Thanks, Nic. You can call me any time too, even if you’re not lonely. Sweet dreams.”

If I dreamed of him, they would be.