Strut the Mall (Love at Westbrook Mall #4)

34. Bullseye

34

Bullseye

I wasn’t ashamed of my side hustle. It’d given me freedom and financial stability. But Zack was all about family values. He wouldn’t laugh and call me a player, like Theo had when I told him about it.

My ex’s jokes had taken the edge off my nerves at the time. Now, all I had was a spritzer. Way too little alcohol for way too big a risk. Especially in front of this cutesy couple. Later, I’d tell him. Hopefully, I wouldn't be too distracted by his broad shoulders. I gulped down my drink in the hopes liquid luck was a real thing.

Zack nudged my knee. “Are you okay?”

Shit. I still had a role to play. Nerves had no place in it.

“Yes.” I dabbed my lips with a napkin and focused on Shelby. “So, have you hosted any good parties lately?”

She nodded and. “Last Sunday, I helped some kids make marshmallow snow people and a graham cracker, gingerbread kinda village. I got a real bargain on the materials because it was after Christmas. It was so pretty they didn't want to eat it. I still managed to convince them by warning them the dog would get it if they didn't.” She giggled.

Harvey squeezed her arm. “You devious little genius.”

Zack shrugged. “You wouldn’t have to do much convincing in our house. Our family loves sweets.”

Shelby glanced down and bit her lip, then scooted toward me. “What have you been up to, Nicole? I’m sure it was busy for model stuff with holiday ads and everything.”

“Oh, yeah.” If she counted the surge of stress-related messages from clients, I was doing great. “Fancee’s is fine. I'm sure The Bern is busy all year. Right, Harvey?”

He nodded. “We’re putting out the red and pink cup sleeves and heart-shaped cookies.”

“Those sound amazing.” Shelby wobbled her chair closer to his. “Do you have to handle Valentine’s day ads as a manager-in-training? You’re pretty enough to be a model, and we know Nikki could do it too. Oh, but I wouldn’t want you to cuddle up with anyone but me.” She deflated.

Harvey combed his fingers through her hair. “Only you, sweetie. I’m not really in charge of ads, but I can ask.” He kissed her temple, and she brightened. With a smirk, he turned to Zack. “Would you be jealous if your girlfriend had to cuddle up to somebody for an ad?”

He twitched his shoulder. “I mean, maybe.”

“It’s just a job.” I swirled my drink and my earrings. “It doesn’t mean anything.”

He tugged his earlobe. “Do you have something like that lined up?”

“Kind of.” I was already in a weird arrangement with him and my clients. But this relationship wasn’t an anonymous transaction; I was really starting to fall for him.

A loud buzz startled me. Shit. I forgot to silence my notifications. “It’s nothing,” I said, quickly dismissing the client app and my socials. Not that anyone had asked.

Shelby and Harvey exchanged an uneasy glance, and Zack slugged back half his drink.

Why was this so weird? Couldn’t we be friendly beyond the confines of who we were dating?

“Does anyone want to play darts while we figure out what to eat?” I suggested. Better to throw an arrow at a board than my heart at the man beside me.

“I’m down,” Harvey said, helping Shelby with her chair.

Zack scraped back from the table, then trudged to the gaming area. I took a sip of seltzer and followed. Darts would be fun. Casual. Distracting.

Harvey gathered the darts. “Each couple as a team?”

I glanced around. “Teams? Don’t we all just aim for the bullseye, most points at the end wins?”

He shrugged. “I guess we could play like that.”

“In a typical game, there are three rounds. First to zero from 301 without going negative wins,” Zack said.

“Oh crap. It involves math?” I blanched.

“We’ll figure it out. Come on.” Shelby led me by the crook of my arm and skipped over. “Winner picks the appetizers. So, whose team do you want to be on?” she asked. “Boys versus girls, couples, or cousins versus significant others?”

“We’re all friends,” Harvey said dryly.

“Kind of.” My fake boyfriend tugged his ear and glanced at the board. He’d be fine if I picked Shelby. But I didn’t want to be without him.

I slid my arm through his and pressed my chest against his bicep. “I’ll be with my man.”

God, I loved it when his neck reddened.

“Her man,” Shelby sing-songed.

Zack swatted her away. “Go be with yours, weirdo.”

“Fine.” She took a dart, did a whole big wind-up and spin to throw it, then jumped in excitement. “Ah, I hit the board.”

Harvey offered her a high-five. “Good girl—er, grip.”

“Thanks.” She giggled and clung to his hand, then swung herself into a hug with him.

They was so obnoxiously cute. How were we going to measure up to that?

Zack leaned into me. “You’re up, Nic. You should be good at this. You know, throwing stuff. Too bad you have to aim.”

“Shut up.” I hip-checked him and grabbed a dart. Catwalk, pose, aim, and shoot. I practiced my throw without letting go, but my boyfriend’s gaze bore into me.

He pressed his fist to his mouth, watching me like I was in New York Fashion week instead of a bar.

I wiggled my hips a little for him. “Do I look like I know what I’m doing?”

“Not really.”

“You just like looking at me?”

He flushed and gestured to the board. “Will you throw, please?”

“That’s a yes.” I grinned and slung the dart right into a double-points ring. “Yes,” I cheered, then slapped his hand. As I went to stand beside him, he smacked my thigh, like I was a footballer coming to the bench.

I laughed and nudged his arm. “You know we can’t hassle them about their PDA now, right? You just smacked my ass.”

“I did not. That was all leg.”

“Mmhmm. I’m watching you, Quarterback.” I swatted his ‘upper leg’ too for good measure.

He flinched through an incredulous laugh. “You’re in trouble later.”

Oh, didn’t I know it?

The game went by fast with banter and celebrations. We weren’t pros or anything. More than one dart bounced off the wires and fell to the floor. When it came down to it, Zack had the opportunity to win the game for us before Harvey and Shelby’s next turn.

He furrowed his brow. “I don’t know if I can hit that ring.”

I rubbed the knots between his shoulder blades. “Pretend you’re throwing a pass in the final quarter.”

“I guess.” He readjusted his stance.

I grazed my lips against his ear. “I’m cheering you on from the sidelines, Zack. Just like back then.”

Tension melted off his muscles. My mind drifted into a fantasy—or maybe a memory. Young Nicole freezing her ass off, one of the many in the Homecoming game bleachers. Young Zack would’ve ran with a pass, his muscles rippling under tight pants and heavy padding.

This Zack nodded, and I stepped back. He hop-stepped forward, sending the dart flying in a spiral arc. The shot deserved a slow motion replay or a special song. I covered my mouth in anticipation.

The dart stabbed the board right on the double points rim where we needed it.

Zack’s voice blasted over the bar noise with a, “Yeah.” He lifted me into a spinning hug.

“Touchdown.” I laughed, hanging onto him. The bar blurred my fantasy of the past and present. A cheering crowd roared in my ears, and just when he lowered me, the world slowed into clarity. He hooked his meaty arms tighter around the small of my back. Our hearts slammed in unison. His bright gaze flicked down, and his breath fanned hot against my lips.

Yeah, we had an audience, but it felt like we were the only two people in the world, and I loved it. I loved him. Oh, wow. I really loved him.

I stroked the back of his head over that stupid-cute uneven haircut. “You know, I think I’m actually okay with PDA, if you wanted a—”

Zack cut me off with a kiss, a sparkles-behind-the-eyelids, foot-pop-worthy punch of his lips.

“Aww, yuck,” Shelby teased. “It’s like they’re in love or something.”

I pressed my forehead to Zack’s and relished in the firm, gentle pressure of his palms at my back. We were real. We had to be.

“So, what’ll it be?” Harvey asked.

“Hmm?” I blinked at him and swayed.

“What appetizer will you choose with your winnings?”

“Oh, I think…” I met Zack’s gaze.

Our minds must’ve met, because he answered, “Soft pretzels sound good to me.”

Shelby squealed. “Really?”

I nodded. We’d be one big happy family. “Eating a little more bread for one more night can’t be that bad," I said.

“I’ll put in the order and meet you back at the table.” Zack squeezed my elbow, his touch sliding down my arm before he strode toward the bar.

That man had a whole gravitational pull, and I was swept up in it. I wanted to spin and sing, dance barefoot in the snow for the high of him warming me up afterwards. I sighed happily. If he loved me, the feet pictures wouldn’t matter. He’d want to be with me the way I wanted to be with him. I hummed to a familiar song on the bar speakers and bent over to pick up a few stray darts.

A pair of bright Zeezy’s by the entryway caught my eye.

“All that salt outside’s gonna ruin my kicks,” Theo told one of the bouncers.

Well, shit.

What were the odds one of us would be dragged out of here again?