Page 28 of How (Not) to Conjure a Boyfriend
I almost had an excuse to get in my car and make a run for it. I was this close! Instead, I nod and she invites me in.
“How was work?” Hayden’s mom asks, leading me through the kitchen to places I’ve not yet been. I wonder how big this place really is.
“It was fine,” I say. Not sure what else to say about it. It’s work.
She takes a left and we head down a set of steps. We don’t have a basement at my house, or another level, whichever it ishere, so this is cool. This must be their game room. Foosball, billiards, table hockey, a dartboard. There’s a round table on the other side surrounded by cushioned wooden chairs, and a sitting area off to the right.
“Is that girl you were working with a friend?” Mary-Anne takes a look behind her to smile.
“Yes, that’s Kaitlynn.” I brighten. “She’s been my best friend since, like…forever.”
“She seems nice,” Mary-Anne says, and opens the door at the back of the room.
Sunlight rushes in and coats my face. The sound of the ball smacking pavement reaches my ears, and I strain to adjust to the outside light again.
“Zachary,” Mary-Anne calls.
My eyes clear, and there he is. For a second I think I’m looking at Hayden, but the features are different. They’re softer. The cut of his jaw is less pronounced, his arms might not be muscular, but those shoulders are perfect, and the eyes, gods. They’re the same ashy gray as Hayden’s, but they’re bigger, more puppy-dog-like.
“Ye—” he starts, but his voice cuts off when he sees me. “Uh, hey.”
I raise my hand and wave.
“I asked Kenzie to come by and play basketball with you,” his mom says. “Thought you might like someone to play with.”
It sounds like we’re kindergarteners in need of a friend the way she says it, and she leaves out the part about it being because Hayden’s not here. From the telltale look on his face, he didn’t know she asked me to come. I’m not sure if it’s shockor anger in his eyes, but he tilts his head and looks off into the woods, lips skewed. Then his mouth opens, but he stops.
“Some company,” Mary-Anne suggests, like she’s trying to sell the idea to him.
“Uh-huh.” Zachary nods and throws me the ball. “Think fast.”
The ball smacks into my hip and I almost yelp the f-word as I bend over in shock. What the actual fuck?! I shoot my gaze at him, making it evil and kind all at the same time, eyes slit while I smile. I grunt and chase after the ball.
“Caught me off guard,” I say, and throw it back to him.
“I’ll leave you two to it,” Mary-Anne says, and leaves without delay before disappearing inside again.
Zachary catches the ball and just stands there. He stares me down, eyes moving up and down my jeans and then my bare midriff. I fight the urge to cover my stomach. Is he really sizing me up? I can play basketball. I have. Like twice. Maybe more, but it was all in elementary school when they made me. I know the rules though.
“Youplay basketball?” Zachary asks. “And dressed like that?”
Oh the derision in his voice. Like come on.
“Sort of,” I say.
“You’re dating my brother, the main point guard for Mitchell, and you ‘sort of’ play?” His brow skews.
“Yeah, well, I mean, I watch more than play,” I explain. “I go more for the scenery.”
Why did I say that? Now he’s going to think I’m checking him out.
“Ah.” Zachary grins. “The scenery can be good.ThatI understand.”
Hold up. Did he just agree? I was talking about the guys.
“You don’t play much either?” I ask, trying to forget it.
“I do. But it’s usually with Hayden.” His face grows somber.
