Page 37

Silence.

“You blocked me. Mature, Zach. Real mature.”

Holding the phone to my ear, I drop my head between my shoulder blades. “Lose this number, Amie.”

“You don’t even want to hear what I have to say?”

I squeeze my eyes shut at her patronizing voice, so many memories. “There isn’t anything else to say.”

Her tone turns soft. “So you don’t think about us at all? What we had.”

I rise to my feet. “No, I don’t, Amie.”

“You aren’t at your apartment. You haven’t been for weeks.”

I catch myself mindlessly pacing the length of the house. I’m wound up like a coiled spring, ready to fire off. “Why are you coming around to my place?”

“To talk. Where are you?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

She puffs out a frustrated breath. “I heard you’re back home in Florida.”

“Amie, you’re heavily pregnant with another man’s baby. Go make a life with Schneider. Don’t call me; don’t message me. Just?—”

“Shacked up with some girl.”

What? How the fuck did she find out about Luna, although it doesn’t surprise me she does. My need to protect her ignites. The best hope I have is to deny everything because the moment Amie gets her claws into something, she won’t let go.

“I’m going to say this once and once only.”

“What’s that?” she drawls.

“Fuck. Off.”

I hit end on the call and immediately block that number too. I’d like to think she’ll take the not-so-subtle hint to exit my life, but honestly, I’m not so sure.

My spiral is interrupted when the front door opens, and Luna strides in wearing a tiny beach dress and pink sandals.

Gathering her salty hair into a top bun, she eyes me and then shifts her gaze to the phone I’m gripping so tightly I’m surprised it’s not dust. “All okay?”

I stride over to her, throwing it on the couch as I go. “Screw working on the house today. Let me take you out, do something fun.” I pick her up with ease since she’s so light.

She smiles and brings her hands to the nape of my neck. “Yeah? What do you have in mind?”

“Somewhere cool.”

“Well, I need to take a shower because I smell kind of salty.”

Marching her toward the bathroom, I hold her with one hand and undo the tie on the back of her bikini with the other, letting the straps fall around her delicate shoulders. “I can help you with that.”

Luna Johnsonin the Kennedy Space Center Rocket Garden is like a kid in a candy store.

“Saturn 1Bgets me every time. It launched the first crewed mission of the Apollo Program, and at 1,600,000 pounds of thrust, it is huge.” She chases over to it, pushing her phone into my hand. “Take a picture.”

I fight back the urge to joke about pounds of thrust, even though if Jon were here, he’d be disappointed at the missed opportunity.

She poses, her hand out to the side pointing to the huge object like it could somehow be missed, and I laugh. “I swear I’ve seen your picture next to this one on socials.”