Page 42 of Set It Right
I’m glad I’m here too.
Chapter Sixteen
Cormac
Zaraleanedherheadagainst the passenger window, her golden legs stretched in front of her, fingers tapping to the rhythm of the road. The sunlight caught in the fine hairs on her thighs, and I had to drag my eyes back to the highway before they lingered too long.
She didn’t seem to be in the mood to talk, and that was fine by me. After last night, I was stuck in my head. The run had helped burn off some of the edge, but sitting in the truck beside the source of my internal upheaval had brought me right back to where I’d started.
That always seemed to be the case around Zara.
Out of nowhere, she said, “You know, you never told me.”
I raised a brow, glancing from the road to her, trying to read her profile. “Told you what?”
“What you were doing in town last weekend, when you found me making a complete fool of myself in public.”
“Ah. When you were beating up your car.” I drummed my thumbs on the wheel. “I was headed to Sugar Rush.”
She sat up, turning toward me. “But…I’d just come from there.”
“Right…”
“That means you couldn’t have gone there. I would have seen you.”
“I ran into you before I made it,” I explained.
Her mouth parted, and a little puff of air blew out. “Mac”—she huffed, indignant—“I screwed up your plans. You didn’t get to see Phoebe.”
I shrugged off her concern. “Not a big deal. I see her pretty often. Your situation seemed more dire than my need for a muffin. Plus, I ended up with a cookie anyway, so I can’t complain.”
She smacked my arm, but it landed as light as a butterfly. “That’s it. After we get my car, we’re going to Sugar Rush and I’m buying you whatever you want. The whole pastry case is yours. Well, unless there are Danishes…or have your feelings about Danishes changed?”
“They haven’t changed, and that’s not necessary.”
“Yes, it is. You rescued me last weekend, then last night, and you’re doing it again today. I’m going to start feeling pitiful if you don’t let me do something for you.”
Zara’s stubborn streak still ran as strong as it always had. If I tried to deny her, she’d dig her heels in and wind up winning in the long run. Since I was in no mood to argue—especially when I already knew the outcome—I took the path of least resistance.
“All right. We’ll do things your way.”
My sister was a little too thrilled to see Zara and me arriving together. She didn’t know everything. No one did. But she’d been around for the height of our friendship…and had seen the aftermath of the ending. It came as no surprise she would think we were mending fences.
And maybe we were.
Zara ordered damn near one of everything and insisted she’d pay for my coffee. At that, I’d made a lame attempt at arguing, but only because I knew I’d lose and she’d feel good about winning.
Her victorious little dance and smile had made it worth it.
While we waited for our order, Phoebe kept darting glances at us. I couldn’t begin to imagine what she thought she was seeing, but if it was anything other than a hungover woman and a man so emotionally raw itfeltlike a hangover, she wasn’t seeing us.
With no open tables, we took our drinks and box of pastries out to my truck without much discussion. Zara closed her eyes as she sucked down her latte, and I flipped the box open, claiming the carrot cake muffin I’d been craving for a week.
Zara opened her eyes and turned toward me. “I haven’t been drunk like that since college.”
I pressed my thumb down on my leg, gathering the crumbs I’d dropped. “It’s always fun while it lasts.”
Her mouth curved as her eyes went hazy. “It was a really good night. I’m glad you were there. We haven’t had fun together in a long time.”
