Page 29 of About That One Night
Zoe: I’ll just miss you then.
MaxMc: Same, but we’ll find the time.
Chapter Seventeen
Zoe
I walkinto Lily and Ethan’s penthouse for what seems like the millionth time this week. My sister rushes over to greet me, enveloping me in a lavender-scented hug. “Yay, I knew you would make it.”
She makes it sound as if I had a choice. Her text was very demanding, and if I didn’t come, she’d have one of Ethan’s agents drag me out of our parents’ house. How is that optional? I blame Max and his busy schedule for this. He’s not available,therefore I have nothing to do and my sister thinks I’m a loser who needs saving.
I force a smile, hoping it passes as genuine and not the kind of smile you give when you’re trying not to step on a Lego. “Of course, Lil. You know I always love coming to visit.”
She smiles, thinking I’m actually being genuine.
That’s one of the things I learned during my debate team years, to school my face and make sure everyone believes my lies. I have the best poker face; such a shame that I’m a terrible player, though.
“You’re coming to brunch tomorrow, right?” she suddenly asks.
“I wish I could, but I agreed to go to the farmer’s market with Mom,” I lie, because if everything goes well, Max is going to be free tomorrow and we will . . . I don’t know what we’re doing. It’s a Saturday so he might come up with some crazy idea, like bungee jumping or getting a tattoo.Anything is better than this.
Listen, it’s not that I don’t enjoy seeing my sister—I do. But ever since the breakup with Tom left me friendless, these get-togethers have started to feel like I’m invading her privacy.
Lily and Ethan just got married, and instead of being in their so-called ‘honeymoon period,’ they have to deal with me. I think it’d be best if I disappeared from their sight for a few weeks, but knowing my sister, she won’t let that happen. She claims it’s the least she could do for me since I’m always there for her. But I’m here for her because I love her and she’s my little sister. I have to look out for her.
I follow Lily into the expansive living room, my eyes skimming over the familiar faces gathered there—Ethan, Caleb, and his new date who will probably disappear by the end of the weekend. And then my gaze snags on him. Max McCallister. I frown. What happened to “let’s avoid being in the same place?”
He hates that I ignore him, but I really don’t want people to make a big deal of our arrangement. We’re friends with benefits . . . great benefits even. Not that we’ve done much since that night at his penthouse. Lately it feels like all we do is text each other just to make sure the other is alive.
“Hello, everyone,” I say, greeting them and staying as far from Max as possible.
“Zoe.” Max inclines his head in greeting, one corner of his mouth ticking up in that infuriatingly sexy smirk. Oh no, he’s going to be teasing the fuck out of me. I can feel it in my bones. “I had no idea you’d be joining us for game night. Ready to lose again?”
My mouth opens slightly, seriously? He didn’t know? We texted about it, he agreed to . . . I can’t remember what he agreed to though. Behave, not tease me or . . . He’s going to ignore our agreement, isn’t he? In exchange I’ll give him the blow job of a lifetime—whatever that is.
I shoot him my fakest smile. “I’m a glutton for misery and all that.”
“I would’ve never guessed it,” he says casually.
“I was thinking we should start with Pictionary,” Lily says, and I suppose that’s my cue not to say anything back to Max.
I plaster on a smile, hoping it looks more enthusiastic than it feels. Inside, I’m cringing. Pictionary? Really? My eyes dart to Max, and I catch a flicker of the same sentiment in his expression. We shouldn’t be here. Maybe if he hadn’t had a last-minute emergency yesterday we could’ve . . . I don’t know what we were planning on doing today but this wasn’t it.
“Sounds great,” I say, my voice a tad too bright. Max’s eyes meet mine, and there’s a moment of silent commiseration before his usual smirk reappears.
“Want anything to drink, Zoe?” Ethan asks from the bar as he pours Macallan into some tumblers.
“Cosmo, water . . . poison,” I mumble the last word under my breath. As I said, I love my sister, but I think being here is a bad idea.
“You like tequila,” Ethan says. “I’ll make you a blackberry paloma—we learned that from our mixology class last week.”
“We did,” my sister says, smirking and flirting with her husband. Somehow, I think something happened during the class or after. These two are disgustingly in love—and keep fucking like rabbits anywhere they go. I wouldn’t be surprised if she tells me that they did it in the janitor’s closet or somewhere in the middle of the class.
I’m not shaming her, only a little jealous that she has someone who loves her so much, he can’t seem to keep his hands to himself.
“The grapefruit soda has high-fructose corn syrup,” Max says, sounding casually. “Isn’t that like, bad for you, Zoe?”
Thanks to him, I go from a fun drink to a justplain glass of water. I glare at him, but he shrugs with a smugness that makes me want to throw him from the balcony.
