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That’s when I physically saw Nash shut down.
“Nothing,” he lied.
“Well, whatever it is, I’m supposed to be there,” I said. “So you need to tell me.”
“I don’t need to tell you shit,” he countered.
That’s when I lost my ride to my errand because I started to argue.
“But won’t it look bad if I don’t show up?” I asked. “Everyone will know that was a front, me being there. Then you’ll only get asked more questions about why you lied.”
Nash’s jaw got tight.
“Just tell me,” I said. “I won’t intrude, but I’ll be there for a smoother transition.”
“Not happening,” he snapped.
“But Nash…”
He came to a harsh stop at a stoplight, then turned to look at me.
“You’re not anything to me, Zip,” he said, voice like a whip. “You’re not my girlfriend. You’re not my wife. You’re not even my friend. So stop asking me, because I’m not going to tell you. And for once in your fuckin’ life, act fucking normal and stop embarrassing yourself. You look desperate.”
I snapped my mouth shut.
Act normal. Stop embarrassing yourself.
God, how many times had I heard those exact same words from my father?
I kept my mouth shut the whole way home and didn’t say a word when he completely forgot my errand.
I got out of the truck the moment we were there, then walked up to Simi who’d just happened to step out of her car as we’d pulled in.
“Hey, I need a ride to Weatherford,” I said. “I never got to go, and I know I’m late picking them up, but nobody was here to give me a ride.”
Simi snapped her fingers, then threw her head back. “Shoot! How did we forget this!”
“I don’t know,” I said.
“Zip…” I heard my name called.
I didn’t bother to look back at Nash.
Couldn’t.
Act normal.
God, if he only knew how hard I tried.
“Get in the car, quick!” she cried out. “I’ll call and explain to Coffey in the car. Shit, shit, shit!”
“Zip!” Nash called out then, hoping to stop me from getting into the car.
I ignored him, opened Simi’s car door, then dropped inside before slamming it closed.
I did chance a look at him when we passed.
And he did not look happy about being shut down and ignored.
But he also looked chagrined, like he hadn’t meant to say what he said.
We both knew that he had.
And I knew that he meant it.
Even if he thought he didn’t.
CHAPTER 8
The thicker your thighs are, the more snacks you can put on your lap.
-Zip to Nash
ZIP
I felt like I was missing something.
And I didn’t feel like missing anything.
“Did you post on social media today?”
I rolled my head to look over at Keene.
He was standing in my office, looking down at where I was lying on the floor.
I grinned wickedly over at my sister. “Yes.”
“Why does it feel like maybe you posted something that was a little inappropriate?” Simi asked.
“Because she probably did,” Crimson said helpfully.
I shrugged. “It wasn’t completely inappropriate.”
“Today’s yoga pose: downward spiral,” Keene said. “That’s not inappropriate in your eyes?”
I shrugged. “Everyone likes the funny posts. You can tell they like when I post if you look at the analytics.”
“She’s right,” Hades called. “When you go to Business Suite, it’ll show you how each post is doing. She also knows exactly when to post. Which is great because she’s really rocking the whole social media thing.”
“Whatever,” Crimson sighed. “This whole thing is a mess.”
“What whole thing?” I wondered.
“The whole having to figure out what to post everyday thing,” she continued. “I hate coming up with stuff on my day. It’s stupid.”
“Agreed,” Keene said. “I’m more than happy letting you take over the entire social media, Zip.”
“Hey, I actually like posting!” Simi cried out.
“Yeah, but there’s only so much this world wants to see of your twins.” Coffey laughed as he tugged my sister’s hair. “Are we leaving or what?”
Simi stood up and headed toward the door. “Where are the twins?”
“They’re with my sister for the day. We’re going out and doing adult stuff. Like paying our taxes, buying a new living room couch, and eating dinner without having to worry about feeding our children first.”
I snickered.
When the two of them had their babies last year, they’d had a huge adjustment period. Then, we’d decided to make the circus permanently in Dallas, negating the need for Coffey’s chef skills. He’d then turned around and started up his food truck that didn’t leave the circus grounds.
Needless to say, if any of them deserved a day off, it was those two.
“What about you?” I asked Hades.
Hades wiggled her camera at me. “I’m going to take a boudoir photoshoot with some really rich woman who has a husband that is some real estate mogul. She wants some naked ones, so I’m really looking forward to it.”
I blinked, then shook my head. “Have fun with that.”
