by Amanda Ashby
Norah winced and tried not to think about the heat on her skin every time Zac touched her. Eight times. Not that she’d been counting.
A loud giggle came from over by the playing fields where Kennedy, Taylor, and several of their friends were crowded, all talking and laughing at the guys on the field. They had makeup on, blown out hair, and perfect nails, and while Zac never dated, he’d certainly flirted with enough girls like that.
Which was why this whole thing was still a bad idea.
“I think you have more chance of going on a physical date with SageKnight194,” she said. “This whole thing is fake, remember?”
“Doesn’t mean it can’t change,” Piper argued as Norah’s phone beeped. Zac’s photo was still on her lock screen, and she hadn’t quite brought herself to remove it.
The message was from him.
You look cute.
Heat hit her cheeks. He was standing on the field with his shirt off, his gaze fixed firmly on her. A couple of the cheerleaders noticed what he was doing and turned in her direction. She returned his wave. At least he couldn’t see her blushing. He dragged a shirt over his chest and took the stairs two at a time.
“That’s my cue to go. Sage hasn’t been around for the last couple of days. I’m hoping he’ll turn up. At least you know what your fake boyfriend looks like,” Piper said in a mournful voice. “Hi, Zac. Bye, Zac.”
“Hey,” he replied as she scampered away. He raised an eyebrow. “Was it something I said?”
“No. She has a gaming thing,” Norah said as he sat next to her. There was a light sheen of sweat on him, and bits of cut grass were dotted on his long legs as he leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees. “How was your training? Did Coach say anything?”
“Not exactly, but we were playing five aside and Myles only tried to tackle me once. Thanks for coming along.”
“Sure.” She thrust her laptop into her messenger bag. Zac waited until she was done and then stood up. She wasn’t sure if he was in a hurry or if it was because he never seemed to sit still for long. She followed him down.
He walked ahead, his cleats clicking against the steps.
“Nice game, Mackenzie.” A guy Norah didn’t recognize punched Zac in the arm when they reached the bottom. He took it in good grace.
“Right back at you, Jay,” he said as Coach appeared. He was short and stocky with thick arms and an even thicker neck.
“Coach. This is Norah.” His arm slid around her waist. Her pulse pounded in response, and she swallowed hard. That was nine times he’d touched her. Still not counting.
“Is it now?” Coach said, his steely gaze sweeping over her. “You ever played basketball?”
“I can’t catch a ball to save my life. Sorry.” She shook her head. It was a common question, though it usually stopped the moment anyone saw her on the court.
“Don’t be. Sports are good for hotheads like this one who can’t stand still, but it’s not for everyone.” Coach gave a mild shrug.
“Norah’s organizing a charity auction. It’s going to be amazing,” Zac said.
Coach lifted an eyebrow. “Principal Watson mentioned that in the staff meeting. Impressive. Let me know if you need any help lifting and moving. I can recruit some brute strength.”
“Really? That would be great. Thank you,” Norah said, relief filling her. She’d managed to convince a couple of the girls from the debate team to volunteer and now she had more. Also, Gareth had dragged along a couple of brass players from the orchestra.
“Fine, fine,” he mumbled and then spun around, his whistle up by his mouth. “Jenkins, if you don’t put that ball down right now we’re going to have an issue.”
“See that vein in his forehead?” Zac said in a quiet voice. “It’s about to pop. We should go since I need to grab a quick shower. Okay to meet you in the parking lot?”
“Sure, I guess,” she said as he disappeared into the gym entrance. The parking lot was to the left, but there was a bench seat underneath an old oak. She brushed the crisp golden brown leaves off as Kennedy appeared.
Great.
“I’m still getting used to the idea you and Zac are dating,” she said. “Weird he never mentioned it before.”
“Is it?” Norah shrugged in what she hoped was a girlfriend-like manner.
“Most definitely.” Kennedy’s green eyes were narrowed and her perfect mouth twisted into a frown. “You don’t seem like his type.”
Norah swallowed as Myles sauntered toward them. He’d already showered and his dark hair was slicked back from his face.
“Ready to go?” he said to Kennedy. Her frown immediately disappeared, and she slipped her arm around him possessively.
“Of course, babe. Just chatting to Norah.” Kennedy’s voice had taken on a breezy tone that hadn’t been there a minute ago.
“Plenty of time for that at the party.” Myles gave Norah an assessing gaze. Then he shrugged and walked in the direction of a late-model truck. Zac jogged over, frowning. He’d changed into shorts and a white T-shirt. He glanced to the parking lot and his smile faded.
“Hell. I shouldn’t have left you here alone. What did they say?”
“Kennedy doesn’t think I’m your type.” She didn’t quite return his gaze.
“Like she would know.” He snorted as he put his foot on the bench and rested his arm on his knee, making them almost eye level. “You’re gorgeous, smart, and funny. Totally my type.”
First he’d called her pretty, and now gorgeous?
She swallowed and quickly got to her feet, trying to remind herself there was a plan here and she needed to stick to it.
“Should we go?”
His blue eyes swept over her, and then he nodded. “Sure. Let’s go get some donations.”
7
“You ready?” Zac asked.
Nope. Not even a little bit.
“I’m not great at this part,” Norah admitted, her heart trying to claw its way out of her chest. They were standing outside a travel agency on Trenton Street, the glass window looming large in front of her. The rumble of traffic filled the air and heightened her panic.
“That’s why I’m here.” He grinned and knocked his shoulder gently into hers. This time she didn’t flinch at his touch, too grateful she wasn’t going in alone. “Come on.”
He held the door open and she stepped over the threshold. There was a large world map along one of the walls. The room was filled with the low buzz of conversation and the tapping of computer keyboards.
“Zac. What a nice surprise.” A woman walked over to them. She was about the age of Norah’s mom and had long dark hair and a nice smile. “Did I forget to pay Zoey’s fees?”
“No, nothing like that,” he quickly said. “Mrs. Randolph, I’d like you to meet my friend, Norah.”
“Hi, Norah. Please call me Veronica.”
“Hi, Veronica.” Her voice shook, but Zac’s arm brushed hers and he grinned.
“We wanted to talk to you about a charity auction we’re running. It’s to provide sanitation for villages in Cambodia. Did you know over nine hundred kids die every day from contaminated water and unsafe toilets? We want to change that.”
Norah blinked. Was he quoting from the information kit she’d emailed him?
He’d admitted in yesterday’s meeting that he struggled to sit still, but he’d obviously done his homework.
“What a great cause. I was reading an article about an organization that designs toilets and trains people to manufacture them within the country.” Veronica turned to her with interest. “Are they connected?”
“Yes, that’s the same one. I’ve been working with them for the last two years and they’re amazing,” she managed to say.
“Norah went over there in the summer,” he added. “One of the women she met said that since they’d gotten their toilet, she hadn’t missed a day of work and they can now afford to send their daughter to high school.”
He’d definitely read the informati
on.
His eyes were shining with pride. As if what she’d done was something amazing. Special.
“I’d love to help. What about airfares and two nights’ accommodation in Las Vegas?” Veronica nodded them over to her desk. Norah’s eyes widened. She’d been trying for the last two weeks to raise awareness and hadn’t gotten anywhere. Zac made it look easy.
“That would be awesome. We really appreciate it. Let me know if you’d like to book seats. It’s going to be a great night.” He gave her the date and prices, still seemingly oblivious to what he’d managed to do.
“I’ll check my calendar and get back to you. By the way, Zoey hasn’t stopped practicing that trick you taught her. The one where she catches the ball on her back.”
“She picked it up a lot quicker than I did,” he said with a rueful smile. Norah had no idea what they were talking about, but his answer seemed to please Veronica. “Anyway, thanks again, Mrs. R, and tell Zoey I’ll show her how to do a back heel on Thursday.”
Veronica laughed. “Will do. And it’s nice to meet you, Norah,” she said as the door opened and a customer walked in. The pair of them said a quick goodbye and went outside.
“Did she really donate a vacation?”
“Yup.” He unleashed another one of his dazzling smiles. “I was hoping she’d be up for it.”
“How do you even know her? Who’s Zoey?”
“Oh.” He gave a vague wave of his arms. “I coach an under-nines girls’ team. She’s my goalkeeper. She has a great reach. Arms like a monkey.”
“You coach kids?” she said, forgetting her plan to keep it businesslike. “I didn’t know that.”
“There’s no reason you should.” He shrugged, his usual swagger gone. “It’s no big deal. Via reckons it’s perfect because I’m so immature. Anyway, the parents love me because I make the girls run around so much that they crash out at night. So I figured it was a good place to start.”
It was. Very smart.
She tapped her pen against the clipboard. He was staring at her, dark eyes a thousand shades of blue. She stopped herself from returning the look. So much for thinking that being his fake girlfriend might get him out of her system. It was having the opposite effect. Up until now she had only seen the flirty, carefree side of him, but while he’d been talking to Veronica, he’d been serious.
It was disarming. And dangerous.
“How did you know about this stuff?” he suddenly asked as they walked along the pavement. “I was talking to Hudson and he said you did letter-writing campaigns.”
Warmth hit her cheeks.
She knew Hudson was dating Via, but the idea they’d spoken about her was unexpected. Not to mention she didn’t like talking about herself. There were so many better things to discuss. Like the rat population in New England in 1904, or the lifecycle of a moth, or why people dropped gum onto the pavement. See, endless.
His curious gaze was still on her. Okay. Fine.
“I was in a hospital waiting room. I was seven, and there was a poster to buy a goat for a family in India. I became obsessed with the idea and used all of my birthday money to do it. My mom thought it was cool, though she didn’t expect me to start figuring out ways to buy a second one. Or a third. Since then—” She broke off. His eyes had turned a dark shade of lapis with tiny flecks of gold running through them. She swallowed. “There’s so much to do. I guess I want to help people. Do something that matters.”
Be someone who matters.
She’s maimed, Sarah. And every time I look at her, that’s all I can see.
Her dad might have thought that, but Norah knew there were people worse off. People who wouldn’t care about her scars. Plus, when she was being useful it stopped her from remembering what was wrong with her.
“I think it’s pretty cool.”
“You’re in the minority. Most people at school think I’m weird.”
“Ever considered they’re the weird ones?” His eyes flashed, and he leaned forward. “Hell, you went to another country and built toilets. Most kids just lounged around all summer being idiots. Me included.”
“I guess,” she said, not quite sure what to make of him. The teasing lilt in his voice was gone. Almost like he was annoyed. “It’s not a big deal.”
“Yes, it is,” he said as they reached a mattress store and he came to a halt. He’d suggested it because it was also owned by the parents of one of his players. “And here’s our next stop.”
The serious set of his jaw faded and the grin reappeared as they walked in. He chatted easily to the owner about soccer before moving onto the auction. It was nothing short of amazing, and if Norah hadn’t known better, she would have said he was as passionate about sanitation in Cambodia as she was.
A reminder he was a really great actor.
He’s just holding up his side of the bargain.
It worked, and the owner donated a brand new bed and mattress. They visited four more places, two of which were interested, promising an answer soon.
“How we doing?” he asked when they were done.
Better than she ever could have imagined.
“Great, though we should probably call it a day,” she said, suddenly remembering they’d driven into town in his car. The idea of being in a confined space with him again left her a little breathless, especially after seeing a different side to him. “The bus stop’s over there. I can make my own way home.”
“Don’t be a dope,” he said as her phone beeped. It was her mom asking her to swing by the Hamburger Joint. She groaned, wishing she’d never mentioned she’d be in town all afternoon. Zac looked at her with interest. “Problem?”
“Not exactly.” She wrinkled her nose, not quite sure how this had turned into her life. “This is kind of gross, but I need to get some hot sauce sachets and a marshmallow sundae.”
“Sweet and spicy. And here I was thinking you weren’t that kind of girl,” he teased.
“Remember I said my mom was pregnant? Welcome to the world of weird cravings. She puts the sauce on literally everything. I saw her pouring it in her coffee the other day.”
“Wow. That’s hilarious. My dad swears when my mom was pregnant with me and Via she put cheese strings on everything, though she refuses to admit it,” he said as an easy smile slid onto his mouth. “Come on, let’s go be gross.”
Ten minutes later she had a marshmallow sundae and fifteen packets of hot sauce Zac had managed to steal, and they were walking back to the parking lot by the water.
Long waves were slowly making their way onto the shore, and the thundering crash was accompanied by chattering gulls. There was a cluster of surfers sitting on their boards and Zac kept glancing over. She got the feeling if he hadn’t been helping her, he would have been out there.
It would explain his streaky blond hair and tanned skin.
“Right, your chariot awaits,” he said in a gallant voice as they reached the nondescript car he and his sister shared. They both climbed in, and he turned to her. “Oh, hey. I got you something.”
He dug into the pocket of his shorts and retrieved a white bag, which he passed over. The rolling energy that followed him around filled the space, and Norah swallowed. Over the years Via had mentioned some of the tricks her brother had played on her. She cautiously opened it, but there were no bugs or slimy things in the bag.
Jellybeans.
She shut her eyes and opened them again. Still jellybeans.
“H-how did you know I like them?” she said, not quite sure what was happening.
“You had a packet on the table. I managed to kill them all. I guess that makes me a felon. Or a murderer. Or something. Anyway, I was in the store yesterday and saw them.”
“But I still don’t get how you even thought of it.” Her fingers automatically smoothed down the creases of the bag, just like she’d done so many times before.
He shrugged, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel. “I don’t know. Coach reckons I notice things, which is why I c
an read the play and distribute the ball. It’s not a big deal.”
“Thanks. You really didn’t have to.”
“I didn’t say they were all for you.” A mischievous smile spread out across his lips. “We’re dating now. It’s only fair you share.”
“You like candy?” Her gaze slid over his ripped chest. “Seriously?”
The smile came back in full force, and his eyes sparkled. “Yeah. It pisses Via off. Guess I have a fast metabolism.”
In all the years Norah had crushed on Zac Mackenzie, she’d never imagined they’d be sitting in a car talking about candy.
She opened the packet. “Of course I’ll share. But I warn you, if you take the orange one first we’re going to have a problem.”
“Orange?” He shook his head, and his face filled with disgust. “Norah Richmond, do I have to educate you on how to eat jellybeans? It’s red first, always,” he said and picked one out. It gleamed like a fire truck and he let out a satisfied sigh as he held it high in the air. “And when you bite, you have to make sure it’s not crunchy. Crunchy is bad. It should be soft.”
“Crunchy versus soft?” She laughed and pulled out an orange one. “Now who’s the weird one?”
“I will die on my mound for soft red jellybeans,” he said in a serious voice. He shoved it in his mouth as his phone pinged. He glanced at the screen and grinned. “We got another donation from Daryl, who owns the spa business.”
Another donation. Warmth spread out across her chest, and she passed over the packet. “I’m feeling generous. This time you can take whatever color you like.”
xxxx
Zac’s foot tapped against the floor as Coach searched for something on his messy desk. His own personal form of waterboarding. After a couple more minutes, he finally put down the folder he was holding and glared at him.
“You think because you’ve stayed out of trouble for a few days I should change my mind?”
“Um, yes,” Zac said. Besides, it was a personal record. “I’ve been training hard and helping with Norah’s auction.”
Coach’s face was impassive. “You’ve come back from the summer in great form. More than some of those other fools. But for all I know this could be a blip. Get through next week and we’ll see.”
