Hands Down

by Mariana Zapata

butt-munch

What he needed to worry about was getting a foot up his ass.

Me: I’m going into a house I’ve never been in before. If I don’t text you back in an hour, call the cops. The address is 555 Rose Hill Lane. I stopped, thought about it, and sent her another message. Me: Don’t invite anyone I don’t like to my funeral. Then I sent her another one. Me: And don’t forget to drop my laptop in a swamp if something happens. I thought about it for another second. Me: And don’t forget you’re the only one I want to clean out my nightstand. Wear gloves and don’t judge me.

Zac’s signature cowboy hat hid what I knew was dark blond hair shot through with strands of auburn and a little brown.

And then I turned sixteen and fell in love with the blond-haired man-boy who was still skinny, but not as skinny, and treated me like a little sister.

Those eyes moved over my face again right before he lifted one of those big, big hands—I tried not to think about how I’d thought he had the biggest hands and feet I’d ever seen back when I’d been younger—and he gently set the tip of his index finger right beside the corner of my mouth. Literally maybe two millimeters away. Right over the beauty mark there that I had hated when I’d been younger.

AKA, they were all butt naked but with their crown jewels angled away. I had bought a copy for support. So had millions of other people. I was pretty sure it was still tucked away in my nightstand drawer too.

We both glanced toward the bed and found Zac stretched out on it beside his grandfather, facing him, head cushioned on his biceps as they whispered to each other. This grown-ass man on the bed with his equally long grandpa was pretty freaking adorable; they looked like time-lapsed twins.

“You look really tired, B. You getting some sleep? Or is the g-a-s getting to you?” The older woman in the elevator glanced at us, obviously because she knew how to spell, and I shook my head at Boogie with a grin on my face.

When my cousin had texted me during his lunch break earlier to confirm that we were on for wings, he hadn’t said shit about Zac coming with us. And now he was here. In the car. And they wanted to go eat. With me.

I smiled back at him, settling back against the booth and peeking at Zac who was still sprawled on his side of the booth with a lazy grin on his face… looking at me. Still looking at me.

And I saw it, because I was looking at Boogie, I saw his eye do this weird little twitch thing then, and I knew it. I KNEW IT. So I whispered, because I couldn’t fucking believe what I’d just seen and what that twitch implied, “Boogie, is she pregnant?” His eye did the twitch thing again. Even Zac dropped his menu. He was so dramatic.

512-555-0199: Snack pack Snack Pack? Zac?

512-555-0199: Zac, peewee

He instantly shook his head, and he said in that deep freaking voice that seemed at odds with the fact he wasn’t even six feet tall, “You’re The Lazy Baker, aren’t you?” The Lazy Baker. I don’t know who the hell was more surprised, him or me, because I was pretty sure I squeaked, “You’ve seen my videos?” at the same time the narrowed-eyed expression fell off his face like that and he jabbed his finger in my direction. “It is you.”

This might be one of the best moments of my entire life. “You just made my whole month,” I told him, pretty sure I croaked the words out, still holding my hands up against my chest as I tried to keep my shit together. I wanted to give him a hug, but you know, maybe next time. If we ever saw each other again.

This fool said, “Mm-hmm,” and I couldn’t help but glance at him again. He was taking another sip of water, peeking into the glass as he did so like it looked weird or he was trying to figure out if there was magic in it. Being cute just came naturally to some people.

That lopsided smile of his released itself into the world. “I don’t remember you bein’ this much of a pest.” “I don’t remember you being such a negative little Nancy.”

He glanced down at my outstretched palm, and then so did I. Was there something wrong with it? And that was when Zac reached over, grabbed his manager’s hand from where it had been hanging loosely at his side, and held it out toward me.

“Bakes, makes meals, snacks, but the recipes are all off the top of her head, and she messes them up every once in a while,” CJ explained for me, still not helping, but probably thinking that he was. Bless his heart.

I said, “None of them,” at the same time CJ piped up with “The no-bake chocolate chip cookies.” “Goddamn it, CJ,” slid out of my mouth before I could stop myself. “I’m sorry, CJ. I meant it, but I’m still sorry.”

By the time the final product came out of the freezer fifteen edited minutes later, there were tears in Zac’s eyes, and most surprisingly, at one point he slid an arm around my shoulders and was pretty much holding me hostage against his warm side as Boogie choked, “Goddamn, B, this tastes like ass.” I didn’t need to look at the screen to know that I had been turning red then as I replied, embarrassed like I always was and always would be when something came out freaking atrocious, “How much ass have you tasted?” But as Zac wiped at his eyes, well… I didn’t mind at all, especially not when he glanced at me with sparkling baby blues and shook his head. “Kiddo, I forgot about that mouth.” One corner of his mouth went up. “You’re adorable.” Oh. Well.

And I made my own destiny. I made my own choices. Maybe some people forgot about me, outgrew me, or never had room for me in the first place. But I had fucking tried. With all of them. With every single person, I’d put in effort.

So I gave him more of my honesty. I gave him a tiny piece of me that I knew I’d been suppressing around him. For my safety. “I missed your big, dumb face too, Snack Pack.” His eyes widened. Those dark, nearly blond eyelashes fell slowly over them. And that mouth of his parted slightly. In surprise? I gave him a little smile in return.

“You coulda just said ‘dumb face.’ You know I’m sensitive about my big head,” Zac deadpanned, quietly, almost hesitant. I couldn’t help it; I nodded at him. “You grew into your big head, if that makes you feel any better.”

Zac Travis hugged me and said, “I sure did miss you, Little Texas.” Something in me unraveled at the name he hadn’t used in so long. In so, so long. With my cheek against his chest, I told him the truth. “I really missed you too, Big Texas.”

In another lifetime, I would have killed for those words meant in a different way. But I would take them now, wrap them up in tissue paper, and store them somewhere safe.

“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.

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.

“Said I should go. Then she mentioned later on how he goes to bed at nine most nights.” I blinked. He blinked right back. I couldn’t help it. I really couldn’t. “Is it hard being handsome?” And this idiot was totally stone-faced as he answered, “Very.” Yeah, I couldn’t help it. I snorted. “What a burden you have to live with.” Zac laughed. “I’m objectified daily.”

“I know you would,” I told him. “But I don’t want to take advantage of you. I asked CJ because he had kind of made it seem like he might be interested in doing it, and he’s a fan.” A fan. That was literally the weirdest shit I could ever think or say. Me. Fans. It was a trip. “I’m a fan too.” I blinked. Zac finally took the sandwich I’d taken a bite out of and ate over the part I had before saying, “I’m a fan of yours. Big one. Your biggest one in Houston.” One cheek went up as he ate. “I am. Are you gonna squeeze another one in today or no?”

“At least half an hour though. Why? You don’t like it?” “I like it every way you wear it,” he said with a smile. “Can I sit in the livin’ room and watch?”

“Hello, Lazy Bakers! I’ve got a special recipe on the menu today that I’m really hoping goes well. Today, I’m going to be trying my best to make an orange cranberry pound cake right in time for—” “Ooh,” Zac cooed from his spot on the couch. Shit. I blinked straight ahead at the camera and could feel my mouth starting to twitch. Keep it together. Keep it together. I closed my eyes and snorted, reopening them and glancing up at the ceiling. “Okay, I need to start over.” I was still looking up when I heard my old friend ask, “Could you hear me?”

I stared dead at the camera. No more starting over. “Well, we’re having a special guest today after all.” The tall, lean man came to stand beside me, freaking hip bumping me an inch over. I snorted and tried to keep my shit together. “My longtime friend—” “And number one fan,” he piped in. I blinked at the camera and then blinked at him. “And number one fan, excuse me, Zac Travis.”

“And today, right after I get a microphone and an apron on Zac, we’re going to be making orange cranberry pound cake.” “Just in time for the fall,” Zac added loudly, looking down at me at the same time I glanced up. We grinned at each other.

waited until he changed the motion he was doing and moved to a slightly different spot. “Thank you for coming to save me,” I told him, trying to ignore the feel of his warm fingertips. And the urge to shiver over them. His thumbs pressed deep along my spine, and I winced. “I was more worried about you flyin’ off the side and breakin’ an arm.” “I just broke my back, no big deal.”

How the hell had he known about me wanting to release a book in the first place? I’d wonder about it later. “I got my channel back. They called the day before yesterday and told me. I’m so happy.” Because I was. The most ridiculous, unexpected thing happened then. Trevor smiled at me. Maybe I couldn’t see all of it at once, but I saw most of it from over the top of his computer. And it was a smile. A real, live smile. And he wasn’t even being sarcastic when he said, “That’s great.”

Richard stopped beside my sister, draping an arm across her shoulders as he stole her beer. “You can stay with us however long you need.” “I’m hopin’ to get her to come back to Houston,” a different but very familiar voice said. My brain froze. My whole body froze. I wouldn’t be surprised if even my red blood cells did too. And my heart went straight into my throat. Straight there. Nonstop. Flying express. I knew that voice.

That big palm of his came right up to the center of his chest, and he rubbed a circle right there as he said on an exhale, “I sure did miss you.” Out of the corner of my eye, I saw my sister smack Richard with the back of her hand on the upper arm.

Trevor’s blessing? “Were you being a pain in the ass?” He shot me a little side look that made me snort. “You’re always being a pain in the ass, my apologies.”

“Yeah. I should’ve told you when I realized it. I didn’t expect it to happen, but it did,” he told him steadily. “I fought it, I swear, but I didn’t have a goddamn chance, Boog. It was like fightin’ the inevitable. Tryin’ to fight a brick wall. I swear on Paw-Paw’s life, I had zero chance. She came up behind me when I wasn’t expectin’ it and gave me the beatin’ of a lifetime.” “Somebody beat you up?” I asked in confusion, looking him over but finding no bruises on any of his exposed skin.

don’t wanna keep tryin’ to fight it anymore. I can’t. I know you’d want the best for me, and this is it, and I think you know that.” He took a breath and said very carefully a sentence that sent my heart into overdrive. “My whole life, I’ve felt like I was missin’ somethin’, tryin’ to find somethin’. I don’t know how to explain it, and now, it feels like I found it, Boog. It was right in front of my damn face all along.”

“I’ve thought about it. I’m thinkin’ it happened sometime between you givin’ me that awful pep talk about old Zac kickin’ this Zac’s ass and you throwin’ bombs at me, I’d say.” He was saying…. He was trying to tell me…. I forced my eyelids not to blink, thought about it a little more, and asked again. “Zac?” He leaned back into the door and crossed his arms over his chest, looking smug and good and still relieved. “Yes, sweetheart?” he asked with so much love and patience, I didn’t know what to do with it even more. “Why are you really here?” “’Cause I love you,” Zac answered.

“And there was no fallin’ for you, Bianca. I just did. Just do, you know? Love you, I mean. It was like I told Boog, you snuck up behind me when I wasn’t lookin’ and beat the livin’ shit out of me ‘til I didn’t have a choice but to see you. See who you’ve become. See who you’ll be. You amaze me, kiddo. You’re gonna take over the world one day, and I wanna be there to see it. I wanna be there to help you any way I can. Lovin’ you is the easiest thing I’ve ever done, and it’s the easiest thing I’m ever gonna do. I just know it.” He paused, and his eyebrows went up at the same time his shoulders did. “I’ve never said that like that to anybody before, and I was a little scared, but I figured nothin’ could be worse than not sayin’ it and you leavin’, and wow… that actually felt right. Real right.”

It was his turn to side-eye me. “You believe me then?” I groaned. “Boy, I said yes. If you want me to pretend like I don’t and pitch a fit for a second, I will though.” Just like that, his smile was back, out and beautiful and everything in the world. “You’ll stomp your feet for me?”

“And I wanna show you somethin’.” I made my eyes go wide. “I want to see it, but okay, perv.” Zac burst out laughing. “I wasn’t talkin’ about that… but that too.” I snorted, and he laughed.

I held my breath and nodded before leaning toward him and brushing my lips over his one more time. Because I could. Because he wanted me to. And if I had doubted it, the low moan in his throat and the hand he used to cup the back of my head would have confirmed it for me. So I told him, “Yes.” His lips took mine once more, and then he whispered, “Good.”

Her whole face was covered with blue paint—instead of red like mine—and she had a killer white mustache that curled at the ends halfway across her cheeks. I’d called it an old prospector mustache. Her husband, Richard, on the other hand, had a white face with a red mustache. We were triplets. It was only Boogie, who was sitting in our row, who didn’t have anything on his face. He was wearing a TRAVIS jersey though, tucked into his perfectly pressed jeans. Connie and I had giggled at him, and he’d given us the middle finger.

His shoulders went up. “Maybe he didn’t come into my life for me. I’m starting to think maybe it was for you.” I was going to need to lie down, pronto. But there wasn’t anywhere clean, so I was going to have to keep it together even as my world rocked a bit right then.

“Stop.” Boogie gave me another long look like he thought I was being a pest. “I know what he’s done. I know who he is. And I know you too. And I guess, if I could’ve picked someone for you, it wouldn’t be Zac.” “Who would it be?” “Jesus.”