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Zev is three inches taller than Robert and built like an ox. He’s got a face that says, Hey, Robert. Your ex isn’t pathetic at all. She got me, didn’t she?

“That’s right,” Zev says. Bless him. He is playing along. “Boyfriend.” Then he slips his arm around my waist and pulls me to his side. Maybe Zev’s an actor. I don’t actually know what the man does for a living. I’ve never asked. If I ask him, then he might ask me, and that’s a complicated story I don’t feel like sharing.

So, of course, Robert reads my mind and says, “And what does Zev do?” He looks at me—he’s asking me. Because something deep inside Robert knows that I’m lying, and this one question is going to give me away.

“He is an athlete,” I say, using Fran’s husband and Zev’s shoulders as inspiration.

Zev coughs, choking on nothing but my insane story.

“A soccer player. He’s a pretty big deal.”

Zev’s arm around me tightens.

“Amazing, right?” I laugh—it’s false and foreign, and doesn’t sound right to any of us. Yep, just that laugh tells Robert that I’m a big fat liar.

But Robert does not call me on my lies. He looks at Zev, who doesn’t dispute anything I’ve said about his job. Zev’s body certainly doesn’t doubt the possibility—the man is built.

“Well, that’s something,” Robert says.

“It really is.” Zev sounds a little annoyed. Why wouldn’t he be? I’m out here putting him in an awkward position, telling lies about him and his life.

“Zev!” the food truckie calls.

I fling a hand toward the truck. “Oh, your food.”

“It can wait,” Zev says, brows cinched as he looks at me.

“Don’t be silly.” I’m certain he’s uncomfortable. The least I can do is allow him some space before he tells me we’re done being friends. “Grab it.” I release his fingers, resting my hand on his forearm—holy, that’s one solid forearm. “I’ll be right here.”

He nods, then, without missing a beat, Zev leans in, playing his part perfectly and pecks a kiss to my cheek. Mint wafts into my senses and my mouth goes dry.

“We should get together sometime,” Robert says once Zev has taken two steps away from us.

Robert wants to get together? I don’t remember being apart until these last few months—so, while I know that Fran and Grammy would disapprove, I can’t help but smile.

I don’t have time to answer before Zev is back with an entire pizza. He holds onto it with one hand and gives Robert a curt smile before wrapping his other arm around my back. “Goodbye.”

I’m not sure what I said or did to make him hostile toward Robert, but I suppose he’s playing his part of the jealous boyfriend.

“Uh. Yeah. Bye, Rosalie. I’ll see you around,” Robert says, without waiting for an answer to his question, like we bump into each other every day.

Zev leads me back to the picnic table, setting his large box next to my small one.

I sit and Zev scoots in beside me on the very same bench. He’s still acting, so I glance back. Sure enough, Robert is still watching. Wow. Zev is good at this.

My heart thumps at seeing Robert—again.

Zev grunts beside me, bringing me back to the present and what I’ve done.

“Oh, Zev,” I whisper, peering up at him. “I am so sorry. Please say we can still be friends. Please.”

“It’s fine,” he says, but he looks very much less than fine.

“No, really. I need you to know I’m not a liar. Not normally.”

“I know that.” He flings open his pizza box lid.

“You don’t really, but that’s beside the point. Hey—” I rest one hand on that thick forearm. “Can I explain?”