Page 10 of Only in Your Dreams

As Parker’s twin sister. His deliverer of good luck charms. Whatever.

I never thought he’d turn out to be as heartless as he’d been that night. He’d tied a piece of red rope around my wrist, sent my stupid teenaged imagination into overdrive. Told me to wait up for him. Left me hanging. And never came back.

Never sought me out or tried to explain. Ignored the one and only text I ever sent him, asking if he was okay. Nothing for ten years.

“Have you seen much of Zac since you moved?” Summer asks, eyes on the road.

“I haven’t seen him since that end of the summer party. Right before I left.”

“Then you’re in for a real treat. He’s…” She casts around looking for the right word. “Different.”

“What do you mean?”

“I like to call him the Ogre of Oakwood, whichgreatlypleases him,” she says with a bite of sarcasm. “He woke up one day and decided he hated everyone and everything. Bought himself this massive plot of land on the outskirts of town a few years ago, built this great big house. Spent the past few years terrorizing the good residents of Oakwood Bay with a crappy mood.”

I frown. She says all this matter-of-factly, but there’s no way it’s true. Zac Porter, hating everyone and everything?

It’s…

I think back to that deep, warm laugh, and the easy way he’d smile. The laugh lines around his eyes.

It’s not just impossible. It’s unfathomable.

Anyway, I don’t care. It took me ages, but I stopped caring about Zachary Porter a long time ago. I’m not about to resuscitate those feelings just because he’s turned into a miserable person. It’s none of my concern.

I just need to survive the weekend. Survive the next few months living with Parker.

And go back to never seeing or thinking about Zac Porter again.

Chapter 3

Zac

It’s a good thing we’ve known each other for years.

That we grew up like brothers since the first time he brought me over to the Woodses. He heard me at practice talking about growing up an only child to diplomats, who shipped me off to live with Grams once they caught on that all that moving around probably wasn’t doing me much good.

As a friendless fourteen-year-old entering high school in a new town, Parker was a godsend. Maybe we’re not as close as we used to be back then. Maybe my patience withPrince Parkerhas waned over the years.

But if he were just about anyone else, I’d kick his ass for sticking me with set-up duty for the fifth year running of this camping trip.

It’s typical Parker.

We always hang out at his place because it’s convenient. At the bar downstairs, because it’sright there. He takes his sweet time getting to a campsite so that his tent is all set up by the time he arrives.

And I’ll say all this to his face too, if he ever decides to show up.

Tossing his sleeping bag over the blown-up air mattress he’ll be using, I’m very aware that my bad mood is misplaced. What I’m really on edge about is those painful forty-five minutes I spent in my boss’s office this morning, where he let me know, in no uncertain terms, that my newly minted title as head coach of the UOB Huskies was acquired through a wild stroke of luck.

The front office hadn’t managed to attract a new coach to fill the vacancy left when they fired my predecessor, at the end of yet another horrific season. It’s not altogether surprising that they didn’t manage to recruit someone else. Who’d want to coach a team that hasn’t won a single game in two years? We can barely recruit decent players anymore.

So, according to my boss, the only viable option was promoting me from my job as the team’s offensive coach.

But it wasn’t a reward for good behavior. Had nothing to do with the fact that I quarterbacked this team to a championship while I was a student. Nothing to do with the fact that I never considered coaching anywhere else once I graduated.

It wasn’t even a favor.

It was a matter of necessity, and he assured me he felt no sense of loyalty toward me. I had a handful of games to turn this team around, or I was out. And considering our pathetic showing in last week’s season opener, their hopes aren’t high.

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