Hands Down Read online Mariana Zapata

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Romance, Sports Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 191
Estimated words: 182070 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 910(@200wpm)___ 728(@250wpm)___ 607(@300wpm)
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“Yup. You know I’m just messing with you. I know you’re used to the finer things in life now. Boogie showed me some pictures of the house you were living in in Oklahoma. You’ve worked hard for everything you have. You don’t need to apologize for being able to afford buying nice things, or for not wanting to buy a place. If I could afford it, I’d live somewhere this nice too.”

“That house in Oklahoma was just a rental.” His smile got a little smaller as it kept on being aimed up at the ceiling with its wooden beams, so I wasn’t totally expecting his next question. “Why didn’t you ever come visit with him, Peewee? You really thought I didn’t wanna see you?”

And we were back here. He still wasn’t totally letting this go. Shit.

I didn’t want to lie to him though. “Pretty much.”

I didn’t appreciate the face he made.

So I made a face right back at him. “You know, you’re putting this all on me when your ass could have visited me too.” If you’d remembered I’d been alive. Luckily, there wasn’t much bitterness in the thought. Just a little. So that was good. “I didn’t change my name or go into Witness Protection or anything, you know.”

I was in a good mood. I was moving forward. I wasn’t going to let this affect our friendship.

Not anymore.

Zac instantly shut his mouth, blinked, and then reopened it. His gaze totally settled on me then, and it took him a second, but he finally got out, “You know, nobody talks to me like that to my face except Boogie and Trevor.” He paused. “And Mama.”

Ah. More familiarity.

I went up to the balls of my feet, reached forward, and tapped his still-straight nose. “I don’t know about Trevor, but the rest of us knew you back when you wore tighty-whities, so….”

Freaking Zac laughed again, and it made something warm pop up in my stomach. “I still do.”

I snorted. “Please tell me they still have little Spiderman on them.”

Zac shook his head. “They’re big Spiderman now.”

This idiot.

We both laughed, loud, and he was still cracking up as he added, “Goddamn, I missed you, Peewee. You and that mouth.”

I missed you, Peewee. Warmth and not a small amount of sadness filled my chest. I couldn’t help but tell him the truth. “I know. I missed you too. I hope we don’t go another ten years without seeing each other.”

Maybe it wasn’t the perfect thing to say, but most of Zac’s smile didn’t wither away afterward, at least. Apparently, he was trying too. “No way that’s happenin’,” he told me, looking straight into my eyes as he did so. “So, you got plans today?”

“Big ones.” I met his gaze dead on. “I have to go grocery shopping. You?”

“I could do some grocery shopping.”

“You buy your own groceries?”

It was his turn to blink. “What? You think I pay somebody to do what I can do myself?”

“Well, yeah. It’s like five dollars. I’m just picky with my produce.” I watched him closer than before and whispered, “Are you having financial trouble? Because a few years ago, I got in really bad credit card debt, and it took a while, but I got out of it, and—why are you smiling like that?”

Yeah, he was smiling and not even bothering trying to hide it. “Smiling like what?”

“Like an idiot,” I told him.

Zac freaking hooted, and it made me laugh. “I’ve got plenty. Promise.”

Well then. “So? Are you serious? Do you really want to go?” The idea of him going grocery shopping period pretty much blew my mind. The idea of him wanting to go with me grocery shopping blew it into another state.

Not that I minded or cared.

That big, quick hand came out of nowhere to boop me on the nose before I could dodge out of the way. “Count me in, darlin’. A boy’s gotta eat too.”

* * *

If someone had told me two weeks ago that I was going to be heading into a grocery store next to Zac, who had my reusable bags thrown over one of his shoulders as he tried to be inconspicuous with a burnt orange and white baseball cap pressed low over his head, I would have thought they were full of shit.

Mostly because I still couldn’t believe this cheapskate wasn’t willing to pay a couple bucks for someone else to buy his groceries.

I had made sure to bring that up no less than three more times on the drive there—a drive that consisted of me behind the wheel because apparently someone didn’t “want to drive” and because my car had “a bigger trunk.” I mean, I didn’t care, but if I had to choose between my Honda Accord or his luxury vehicle, I would have chosen his. Mostly because I’d never been in anything more expensive than Boogie’s Audi.


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