Chapter 2

Zack

A half hour, and several Panic! songs after I picked Zoe up, we glided to a stop at the curb in front of my house. Zoe ducked again.

"Shit!"

I looked at her with an eyebrow quirked, furrowing my forehead. Zoe's hand came up above the dash, one finger pointing to her house. I twisted my head. Her dad and Dani, her stepmom, were sitting on the porch swing. Mr. McCord had his arm around Dani's shoulder and her hands were folded over her baby bulge as they talked and laughed, their heads close together. Dani was due in a couple of months with their first child. It warmed my heart. I turned back to Zoe with a smile on my face.

"Why are you smiling?" Her face was tight and... was that a bead of sweat on her forehead? I suppressed a chuckle. Her frown deepened. She was in one salty mood at the present moment. "Did you forget I'm already in trouble and if I get caught sneaking out it won't bode well for either of us?" I stared at her. Her freak-out mode, which I witnessed on a fairly regular basis, was cute, in a Zoe kinda way. It both made me want to laugh at her, and aroused my sympathy at the same time. "You know they'll inform your mom of your involvement in my deviancy."

I glanced back at the porch. The swing's occupants were rocking comfortably, but I did have a large front yard and movement could draw their attention. I surveyed the area for inspiration and spotted it. "Hang on." I disengaged my seatbelt and opened the door to climb out.

Zoe grabbed my arm. "What are you going to do?"

I smirked, thinking out my plan. This would work. "You'll see." I left the car door open, crossing my lawn to enter my garage, which was left open for some reason. In the back, a basketball-sized hole was covered with a large piece of plywood, a metal shelving unit pressed against it to keep it in place. As I had never gotten around to fixing it, it stood as a monument to a particularly competitive game of basketball with Zoe last summer. I slid the plywood out and toted it across the lawn. As predicted, her folks lifted their heads when I first hopped out of the car, and now they observed me on my return trip.

I set the board on top of my Converses for a second and waved to them. "Nice evening," I called out.

"Beautiful," Mr. McCord responded without altering the rhythm of the swing.

I continued my journey to the car. Zoe was hunched on the driver's seat. I marveled at the fact that, curled like that, she was so small she still remained hidden below the steering wheel and dash. As I got close she hissed, "Stop talking to them! Do you really want them focused in this direction?" I ignored her, maneuvering the plywood so it was angled along the door, guiding it up all the way to the frame. "What's that for?"

"Cover," I said out of the corner of my mouth.

Zoe's eyes lit up. "Brilliant. Zack Issaacs, I could kiss you."

An odd tingle rushed down my spine. I brushed it off, clearing my throat, and giving my head a shake. Zoe clambered out, being careful to stay behind the screen I offered. She was all leg. Miles and miles of toned, tanned skin. I gawked for a second and swallowed. I always thought she was cute, but when did she become so hot?

Wait. This was Zoe for God's sake!

Corralling my runaway lustful thoughts about my best friend—thoughts that had lately been barging in uninvited—I shifted my gaze again to the porch. To my surprise, Mr. McCord was standing at the top of the stairs. I lifted the wood to rest it on the car frame. Shrugging elaborately, I raised my voice so it carried across the lawn. "Too big."

Mr. McCord stared at me, but nodded. "Yes, it is." Dani coughed, bringing a hand to cover her mouth. I knew I looked foolish. It was obvious the piece of wood could not fit into my Cobra. But I didn't care. As long as it worked and kept Zoe out of trouble.

She tugged my jeans. "Come on," she whispered hoarsely. I scooted the board farther out so I could close the car door.

The next thing I knew, Mr. McCord's voice startled me, coming from far too close. He stood at the bottom of his porch steps. "I could help you put it into the trunk."

"No!" I practically shouted. "No, no. I'm good," I added, trying to hide my alarm. Zoe latched onto my leg, cowering against me and laying her head on my thigh. "I'm... putting it back. Thanks, though."

"Sure," Mr. McCord said slowly, rubbing his neck and looking on with raised eyebrows.

I lifted the board a few inches and began to book it across the lawn. "Uhh... have a good night, Mr. McCord. Dani." I nodded in her direction, but didn't make eye contact. Zoe duck-walked beside me, keeping pace.

Once in the garage I dropped the wood onto the concrete with a loud sigh. I turned to help Zoe up, but she'd already risen. She pounded my shoulder. "Nice one, Z-man."

I grabbed her hand. "Come on." I led her through the back door of the garage and walked her to the kitchen door at the rear of her house. On the way, we made plans for what we'd be doing now that we had wheels.

When we reached her home, Zoe paused with her hand on the doorknob. "Thanks for the ride, Zack," she said softly. "And congratulations."

I hugged her and we parted, standing awkwardly for a moment before Zoe turned to enter the kitchen. Her body jerked. "Shit!" Her eyes were wide when she whipped her head around to face me. "They already locked the doors."

"Maybe the front's still open."

I led the way, but Zoe collided with me when I drew up short. I pressed her against the side of the house with my arm and flattened myself in the shadows, too. Voices floated to us. Her parents were still on the porch. I put a finger to my lips and we carefully retreated, stopping at the base of the tree between our yards.

Zoe pushed the hair back from her forehead, leaving her hand there for a second. "What am I going to do?"

I exhaled and planted my hands on my hips, swinging my head to peer at the back of the house, then out toward the street, wracking my brains. Finally, in desperation, I looked up. She'd have to climb back to her room. "Okay. Up you go." I bent and laced my fingers together to give her a lift.

She glanced up and swallowed, then searched my face for several seconds before placing her tennis shoe in my hands, her hands on my shoulders. This was what I loved most about her. Although she could be almost a neurotic worrywart at times, when faced with something that would scare the shit out of most, she stood her ground. She was one of the toughest, bravest girls I knew.

I looked steadily into her eyes, trying to give her confidence a boost along with her body, the body I was trying hard not to think about. "On three." She nodded. "One, two... THREE."

I heaved with all my might. Maybe a little too hard, as she was basically a puff of air and I was a quarterback, used to battling it out with two-hundred-twenty pound, totally yoked defensive linebackers. She flew past the branch I was aiming for and clutched onto the one above it. Putting her feet on the trunk, she walked her way up and managed to throw a leg over the branch and maneuver on top of it. Straddling the branch as if she was riding a horse, her hands in front of her clasping the branch, she exhaled. She bent closer, presumably so I could hear her without raising her volume and alerting her parents.

Her long, blond hair rippled around her, falling over her shoulders as she smiled at me. "Thanks."

That wave of pulsating heat washed over me again, and I couldn't find my voice. Could barely nod.

She lifted her head, gazing at the branches above, and worked her way to her feet, her back against the safety of the trunk.

I shook my head. "One of these days you'll break your pretty little neck."

She ran her hand from chin to chest. "You think my neck is pretty?"

Hell, yeah, I do. I gulped.

She batted her eyelashes and I could tell she was teasing me. I recovered instantly, rolling my eyes. "It's an expression."

"Oh," she murmured, faking disappointment. She scoped out her upward path again. "Well, here goes."

I threw a look over my shoulder to make sure her parents hadn't decided to go for a stroll or something. The loud crack of wood splitting made me twist around in time to witness Zoe tumble to the ground. She landed on her back on top of the broken branch but rolled over immediately and groaned.

"Oh, my God!" I rushed forward.

Mr. McCord's voice rang out. "What the hell was that?"

Zoe lifted her head and raised an arm, palm out. "Don't. Go stall him."

I was frozen in midstride. The tears threatening to spill over her lashes, tension in her face, and the sight of blood streaking down her palm propelled me forward, but the desperation in her eyes confused my thoughts. She was breathing heavily. Was the wind knocked out of her?

"Please, Zack."

Feet thumped on the porch steps and, reluctantly, I turned. Once decided on my course, I moved more quickly, jogging up before Mr. McCord rounded the corner.

"Hey," I said lamely.

"Zack." Zoe's father blinked. "I heard a noise...." He searched around for an explanation, and I could only hope my body was totally blocking Zoe from view.

"Yeah. Me, too. I think it was an animal or some—"

"Sounded to me like wood cracking." Mr. McCord brushed past me.

I squeezed my eyes shut as if not witnessing Zoe get caught would make it somehow not happen. I slowly pivoted on my heel, cringing as I prepared myself for what I was about to see. Zoe's dad stood over the broken branch with his hands on his hips, but Zoe was nowhere in sight. My gaze flew to the window, then toward the back yard and the swing, then darted to my house. She was nowhere. A warm flush of relief surged through me. Mr. McCord swung around with the branch in hand. The smile about to break over my face slithered off somewhere. The man didn't look happy.

"Zack," he tapped the branch against his palm. "You weren't trying to sneak into my daughter's bedroom, were you?"

"What? No! I would never do that, Mr. McCord," I sputtered. "That would be wrong."

"Yes. Yes, it would." His voice was deadly calm as he wielded the thick branch. "And very dangerous, too. Am I right, Zack?"

I resisted the urge to wipe the sweat from my forehead. "Uhh... yes. I guess." Zoe's dad tensed his jaw, planting the butt of the branch on the ground and studying me. "I mean. Yes. That would be very dangerous. And stupid," I added for good measure.

He stepped closer until we were almost chest-to-chest. His gaze bore into me like heat vision as he scanned my face with the intensity of an executioner. "I'm glad we see eye to eye on this." He shoved the branch into my hands and stomped around me. I let out a breath. As soon as I heard the man's shoes hit the porch stairs I dropped the branch and moved forward, searching the shadows.

"Zoe," I hissed. "Where are you?" Nothing. No sound. No movement. I picked up my pace, coming around the corner of the house and throwing a hand up to block the light blaring from the fixture by the kitchen door. "Zo?"

She materialized out of the dark, one arm crossing her body and gripping the opposite bicep. She winced and hobbled forward. I immediately grabbed her arms, bending my knees to better look her in the eyes. "Are you okay?"

She made a noise I guess was supposed to be a chuckle, but it was forced. "Fine." Her smile was off.

Something oozed between my fingers. I drew back my hand. A stream of red tracked along the lines in my palm. "Zo! You're hurt." I twisted her arm, moving her to get it under the light.

"A little." She tried to jerk her arm free, but I held on. "I only scratched it on the way down." She shuffled forward a few inches, her face tense.

"What about your back? Is it sore?"

"Uhh..."

I whipped the tail of her shirt up and she sucked in a breath. A trio of red scrape marks ran from her waist to practically her shoulder blades. "I think we need to tell your dad about this." I reached for the kitchen doorknob, but she grabbed my arm.

"Zack. Don't. I'm already in enough trouble."

"I don't care. You could have some sort of internal injuries."

"Zack, please."

I peered into her face. She was blinking away tears.

"Please," she pleaded more quietly, desperation coating her voice.

Damn it. That's not fair. I didn't move.

She could obviously tell she had me on the ropes. "I swear, I'm fine." She turned to show her back. "A few scratches, is all."

I worked my jaw. This didn't feel right.

"I promise I'll get help if I think something is wrong with me, okay? Promise."

"I don't like this, Zo." I gestured to the side of the house. "That was a long fall."

"Yeah, but... I hopped right up. I'm fine."

That was true....

"Come on." She moved away from the door a step. "You can help me clean this." She lifted her arm.

I hesitated. "Okay. I'll go get the first aid kit from my car. But we're not done discussing this." She nodded and I took off for the car.

When I came back and rounded the corner, she was sitting on the stoop with her legs out in front of her, leaning back, her head resting against the door. She lifted her head quickly and pushed to a more upright position.

"Oh, hi."

I grunted in response and set the first aid kit on the concrete, popping it open and surveying the contents. I grabbed what I needed and glowered at her, raising my eyebrows in expectation.

"Oh." She held her arm out. I squirted some antiseptic stuff on a cotton pad and gently wiped at the blood, glancing into her face every now and again to check if she registered any pain. She didn't make a sound. "See. It's not so bad. Just bled a lot." Her voice was shaky.

I applied ointment, then bandaged it. It did look a lot better. I hopped on my haunches. "Now let me look at your back," I ordered, waving my hand in a circle until she twisted and lifted her shirt. "Hmm... it's too big to bandage. But it's not bleeding much. Just red and puffy."

She jerked the top down. "Like I said, fine."

"I'm going to touch you and make sure you don't have any broken ribs or anything."

She nonchalantly raised her hands in the air, giving me access to pat her. Her head was tilted as if offering me a challenge. It stirred something within me.

I gingerly felt along the side of her ribcage, watching her face for any reaction. When I didn't notice much of one, I stopped, wrapping my hands around her sides.

"You scared the shit out of me, Zoe Marie."

"I know. I'm sorry."

She's sorry? She's the one who's hurt.

And it was my idea.

I gathered the medical stuff and put it back into the kit, although it took me a bit to get it to fit right. I rose, looking down on her and offering my hand. When she got to her feet, I reminded her, "We still have the problem of getting you inside."

She bit her lip. "Oh, yeah."

"But I thought of something on the way back from the car. I have a key." She furrowed her brow. "Remember when I watched your cat when you guys went to Wisconsin to meet Dani? Your dad gave me a key and told me to keep it, in case you guys ever needed me again."

Her smile was brilliant. "Oh, yeah. Awesome."

"I'll be back in a sec." I tore off and returned shortly with the key, which I slid in the lock. I quietly opened the door. "There you go," I whispered. "Now get some sleep."

She stepped up on the threshold, but turned. "I won't be able to sneak out anymore." It was as if this was what really pained her.

"You can come down the back stairs."

She grimaced. She was caught this way before. "Okay," she said doubtfully. She made a half-turn to go in, but whirled around, and, the next thing I knew, her lips were on mine. Then they were gone. "Thanks, Zack." She smiled, slipped inside, and closed the door behind her.

I stood, stunned.

It was only a thank you kiss. And hardly really a kiss, at that.

But my lips turned up, as if her kiss gave them wings, and my steps were light on the way home.

Lying in bed fifteen minutes later, I thought about that kiss, and imagined it going deeper.

Oh shit. I'll never fall asleep.

I turned on my side, punched my pillow, and closed my eyes with a smile.