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Now I’m forced to watch her from afar.
“I thought I might try a cocktail, Mariana.” Sofia lifts the menu. “Looks like they have a bunch of different daiquiris. Do you want to split one with me?”
Mariana pouts. “My lightweight sister. No, I shouldn’t even split one. We just came from happy hour with the whole crew.” Mariana shoots Zac an intimate smile that makes my skin crawl. “I already had a few too many.”
Zac reaches his hand around her shoulder and gives it a squeeze, and my jaw clenches of its own will. “You didn’t introduce us,” I mutter.
Mariana frowns at me, and I wonder if the words came out more biting than I’d intended.
“You met Zac.” She smiles slowly. “He was the guy I was...fraternizing with.”
I shoot her a warning look, and those beautiful dark eyes of hers grow hooded. Oh God, it’s that sultry look of hers.
She’s being defiant tonight.
Because she’s tipsy.
Naughty girl. I wish I could drag her into that bathroom and turn her over my lap.
With effort, I smile at Zac. “I don’t think we officially met. I’m Brandon.”
“Pastor Brandon, right?” Zac asks. “Mari has great things to say about you. And you know she’s a heathen, so—”
Mariana punches Zac in the shoulder, and they both start laughing.
I shut my eyes for a moment, letting self-recrimination wash over me in a flood. They’re both so young, flirting the way they are. I’m an old man over here wishing I could be in the place of a twenty-something kid.
It has to stop.
Thankfully, our food comes, and I’m able to pull my attention away from Mariana and Zac. It isn’t difficult since they spend the next half hour talking mostly to themselves about people and circumstances unfamiliar to me. I use the opportunity to converse with Sofia, and it’s a balm to my shitty mood. She truly feels like family—the little sister I never had.
Somehow, Mariana escaped those brotherly feelings.
By the time we leave the restaurant, the late afternoon sun is reflecting off the downtown buildings. The air smells like a combination of hot asphalt and ocean.
“Ugh,” Mariana says. “It’s too hot for mini golf.”
Zac lowers his sunglasses as he looks at her. “It’s my turn to pick. We did your little boat thing last week, and I was ready to puke the whole time.”
She giggles. “Your sea legs are pretty weak.”
Since Sofia and I are walking behind them, I take the opportunity to ask the question that’s been burning in my gut since the moment I got the text from her yesterday. “Are Zac and Mariana dating?”
Sofia smiles. “No. Technically they’re just good friends. But Zac has been trying for years.”
I look ahead, and Zac sets his hand on Mari’s lower back.
Oh fuck. The clawing jealousy in my gut is a physical pain.
Jesus, please help me to be civil.
After we make it to the course and start playing mini golf, Zac starts getting more touchy than he was in the restaurant. His hands are everywhere. On her arm, her back, her shoulder. The touches are gentle, not overtly intimate, but they’re enough. Enough to make me want to grind my teeth into chalk dust.
“Actually, why don’t we make this a bit more interesting?” I say after sinking a hole in one, feeling like a child for what I’m about to propose, but unable to help myself.
“What do you have in mind?” Zac’s tone is playful, but I can sense a hint of competitiveness in his eyes.
“Sofia never got her daiquiri. How about losers pay for a round afterward.” I keep my eyes locked with Zac’s.
