Chapter 414 - The Pasta Will Survive

Chapter 414: Chapter 414 - The Pasta Will Survive

Roxie was leaning against the kitchen island pretending she was checking her phone when really she had been staring at Zac for the last ten minutes.

He was barefoot, shirtless and wearing only black boxers while he moved around the kitchen like this was the most normal thing in the world. The pan hissed softly on the stove, something with garlic and butter already filling the apartment, and every now and then he reached up to push his hair back with the back of his wrist when it started falling into his face.

Roxie looked down at her phone again before he caught her.

It lasted maybe three seconds.

"You know," Zac said without turning around, "if you’re going to stare at me like that, you could at least be honest about it."

Roxie smiled. "Bold of you to assume I’m staring at you."

He glanced at her over his shoulder. "You’ve looked at your phone upside down three times."

She looked down.

Her phone was, in fact, upside down.

Roxie laughed and set it on the counter. "Okay, maybe I was staring a little."

"A little?"

"Don’t ruin it."

Zac smiled to himself and turned back toward the stove. "You’re lucky I’m cooking for you."

Roxie pushed herself off the island and walked over to him, stopping close enough that her bare legs brushed the side of his thigh. She wrapped both arms loosely around his waist from behind and pressed a kiss between his shoulder blades.

"Maybe I’m only here for the view."

"The view is making pasta."

"The view is doing a great job."

Zac laughed under his breath. Roxie felt it more than heard it.

She stayed there for a moment, arms around him, cheek resting against his back while he stirred whatever was in the pan. It was stupid how much she liked this. Not the pasta specifically. Just this. The apartment, the quiet, Zac in the kitchen acting like cooking dinner half naked was a perfectly reasonable way to exist.

Roxie kissed his back again, then moved around him and leaned against the counter beside the stove.

Zac looked at her once and shook his head. "You’re in the way."

"I’m adding ambiance."

"You’re adding a fire hazard."

Roxie ignored that and let her eyes move over him again, deliberately this time. His shoulders, the line of his stomach, the low waistband of the boxers riding against his hips.

Zac caught the look and raised an eyebrow.

Roxie smiled innocently. "What?"

"Be careful."

She stepped closer, reached for the front of his waistband like she might tug him toward her, then instead smoothed one hand over his stomach and up his chest. "This isn’t my fault. You’re cooking in your underwear."

He leaned down enough that she could kiss him, and Roxie did. It was only supposed to be quick, but Zac’s hand came around her waist and held her there for another second, then another. By the time she pulled back, she was smiling and he looked more affected than he wanted to admit.

"Careful," she said softly.

"With what?"

"You."

That made him laugh.

Roxie reached up and kissed him again, this time slower, and Zac turned enough that the kiss deepened before either of them really decided on it. His hand slid to the small of her back and pulled her closer until her hips bumped the edge of the counter.

She made a small sound against his mouth that only encouraged him, and when he kissed along her jaw and down the side of her neck, Roxie tilted her head with a quiet laugh.

"Zac."

He kissed the sensitive spot below her ear. "What?"

"You’re supposed to be cooking."

"I am cooking."

"With your brain gone?"

He lifted his head just enough to look at her. "You started this."

Roxie smiled and reached up to touch his mouth.

That was when she noticed the faint smear of lipstick at the corner of it.

Her smile widened.

"What?"

She didn’t answer at first. She just looked at him.

Then she reached for the handle of the pan behind him and lowered the heat before saying, "You have lipstick on your mouth."

Zac blinked. "I do not."

Roxie laughed. "You absolutely do."

He immediately reached for the kitchen towel hanging near the oven, but she caught his wrist first.

"Wait."

"What?"

She studied him like she was admiring something. "I kind of like it." She looked down to admire every hard line of his body.

"Oh my God," Zac said.

Roxie lost it.

He looked at her, then toward the dark microwave door like he might be able to use the reflection, but it only made her laugh harder.

"You put your mark on me and now you’re laughing?"

"That sounds so dramatic."

"You literally marked me."

Roxie touched the stain lightly with one finger. "Maybe I wanted people to know."

Zac looked down at her with something amused and warmer underneath it. "People?"

"Mm-hm."

"In this apartment?"

She laughed again.

Zac caught her around the waist and pulled her against him. "You know what that sounds like?"

"What?"

"You’re sounding too possessive."

Roxie smiled up at him. "Maybe."

He kissed her once more, slower this time, and she kissed him back until she felt him smiling against her mouth. "I kinda like it."

Then she pulled away and laughed again. "No, seriously, your mouth is red."

Zac sighed and finally reached for the towel again. "This is your fault."

"Everything good in your life is my fault."

"That’s not what I said."

"It’s what you meant."

He shook his head and went to the sink to wash the lipstick off properly. Roxie leaned against the counter and watched him use water and the edge of the towel, still smiling to herself. There was something satisfying about seeing a trace of herself on him. It felt childish maybe, but she liked it anyway.

When he turned back around, his mouth was clean, though the mark near his neck was still faintly there.

Roxie pointed. "You missed one."

"I’m leaving it."

"How brave."

"I’m in my own apartment."

"Our apartment," Roxie corrected.

Zac’s eyes went to her. "Yeah. Our apartment."

Something in her chest softened at that.

He turned the heat back up and went back to dinner, and Roxie climbed onto one of the stools by the island, propping her chin on her hand while he moved around the kitchen.

"So," she said, "tell me about practice."

Zac glanced toward her. "You mean the part you usually tune out?"

"I do not tune out."

He gave her a look.

Roxie smiled. "Okay, maybe only when you and Dylan start talking like football has its own language."

"That’s because it kind of does."

"See? Exactly that."

He laughed and started telling her anyway, and this time Roxie listened. Really listened. He talked about the latest practice, about one of the receivers who kept missing a route and then blaming everyone else for it, about a linebacker who hit like he was personally offended every drill, about how the pace was faster than high school and how Coach Avery didn’t waste words but somehow made everybody feel stupid with a single look.

Roxie liked hearing him talk when he got like this. Focused, alive, completely in it. Tennessee mattered to him so much that sometimes even when she understood only half of what he was saying, she still liked the sound of it because it was him.

"And the coach?" she asked.

Zac shrugged. "He’s hard on us."

"Do you like him?"

"I respect him."

"That sounds terrifying."

"It kind of is."

Roxie smiled. "You love it."

He looked at her and smiled back. "Yeah."

Her phone buzzed somewhere on the counter, but before Roxie could reach for it, Zac’s rang from the coffee table in the living room.

He glanced through the kitchen opening. "Can you see who that is?"

Roxie twisted on the stool. "Dylan."

Zac wiped his hands on the towel and went to answer it while Roxie turned her attention back toward the stove. She reached for the spoon and stirred the pasta before Zac could complain that she was interfering with his cooking again.

"Yeah?"

Something in his voice made her look over.

Zac had stopped near the couch with the phone against his ear. The relaxed expression he had worn all evening disappeared almost immediately.

"What happened?"

Roxie lowered the spoon.

She couldn’t hear Dylan clearly from where she stood, only the faint sound of his voice through the phone, but Zac was listening without interrupting now.

"When?"

Another pause.

Zac rubbed his hand over the back of his neck. "Did he call you back?"

Roxie frowned.

Whatever Dylan was saying went on for a while. Zac barely moved until he finally said, "Okay. Just stay there. Don’t go anywhere. I’m coming."

That was enough to make Roxie forget about dinner.

Zac ended the call and remained beside the couch for a moment before looking toward her.

"What happened?"

He walked back into the kitchen, but the way he hesitated before answering worried her more than anything else.

"There’s a problem with Dylan."

"What kind of problem?"

"His family."

Roxie’s stomach dropped slightly.

She knew enough about Dylan’s situation to understand why Zac suddenly looked serious. "What happened?"

"I’m not completely sure." Zac looked toward his phone. "He was upset. Something happened with his dad, I think. He wasn’t explaining it very well."

"Is he okay?"

Zac paused.

That answer worried her immediately.

"Zac."

"I don’t know."

Roxie stepped closer. "Then go."

His eyes went to her. "I’m sorry."

"Why are you apologizing? Go check on him."

"I was making dinner."

"The pasta will survive."

A small smile almost appeared, but it disappeared just as quickly.

Roxie watched him grab the shirt he had left over the back of one of the chairs and pull it on. Whatever playful mood had filled the apartment ten minutes ago was completely gone. He entered the bedroom to dress while she moped around.

She had spent most of dinner watching him walk around in boxers for a reason. Once they ate, she had fully intended to get him back into the bedroom, and she had been debating whether dinner even needed to happen first.

Apparently it did.

Just without the part she had actually been looking forward to afterward.

Roxie sighed quietly.

Zac walked out while fastening his pants "What?"

"Nothing." She sighed. Even the view is gone.

"That was definitely something."

She glanced at him. "I had plans for you."

His expression changed enough that she knew he understood immediately. "Tonight?"

"No, next Thursday."

Despite everything, Zac laughed.

Roxie walked over and fixed the part of his shirt he had folded under in his rush. "Very good plans too. You should be devastated."

"I am."

"You don’t look devastated."

"I’m trying to be respectful while my friend is having a crisis."

Roxie smiled despite herself. "Good answer."

Zac caught her waist and pulled her closer for a quick kiss.

"I’ll make it up to you."

"You better."

Then Roxie’s smile faded as she looked at his phone again. "Seriously, though. Is Dylan alone?"

"I think so."

"Then stay with him if you need to."

Zac looked at her for a moment. "You sure?"

"Why wouldn’t I be?"

"I don’t know how long this is going to take."

Roxie shrugged. "Then it takes however long it takes. Just text me so I know you’re both okay."

His face softened.

She glanced toward the stove. "Did he eat?"

Zac blinked. "What?"

"Dylan. Did he eat?"

"I have no idea."

Roxie immediately reached for one of the containers in the cabinet.

Zac watched her. "What are you doing?"

"You made enough pasta for half the building. Take some."

"Roxie."

"If he’s upset, he probably hasn’t eaten. Take it."

She filled the container before Zac could argue, closed it and pushed it into his hands.

Zac looked down at it, then back at her.

"What?"

He leaned down and kissed her again, longer this time.

Roxie smiled against his mouth before pushing him back lightly. "Go before I change my mind and keep you here."

"That sounded threatening."

"It was."

He grabbed his keys from the counter, then hesitated again near the door.

"I’ll call you."

"Okay."

"And I really am sorry about tonight."

Roxie pointed toward him. "You should be. I shaved."

Zac stopped.

Roxie burst out laughing at his face.

"That’s fucked up."

"Go help your friend."

"You’re seriously telling me that right before I leave?"

"Motivation to come home."

He stared at her for another second before shaking his head and opening the door.

"I hate you."

"You absolutely don’t."

"I’ll call you."

"Check on Dylan."

"I will."

Then he was gone.

The apartment became quiet after the door closed, but Roxie wasn’t angry.

Disappointed, absolutely.

She looked down at herself and sighed because she really had put effort into tonight, and now the only thing waiting for her after dinner was probably a shower and whatever terrible show Angela kept telling her to watch.

Still, the way Zac’s face had changed during the phone call stayed with her.

Roxie picked up her phone and opened Dylan’s messages.

She stared at the screen for a few seconds before typing.

You okay? Zac just left.

She sent it, then set the phone beside her while she finished plating her food.

No answer came.

That bothered her more than losing the night with Zac.

Dylan normally answered her, even if it was only something stupid. She checked the screen again while she ate, then once more when she carried the dishes to the sink.

Still nothing.

Roxie looked toward the door.

Hopefully Zac would get there soon.

Whatever had happened, Dylan had sounded bad enough that Zac dropped everything and ran out.

The sexy night could wait.

She just hoped Dylan was okay.