#zoman

“I can’t stop this feeling, deep inside of me. Boy, you just don’t realize what you do to me,” Zoey sang at a volume approximating the top of her lungs as she danced around her kitchen, popping toast onto a plate and giving the scrambled eggs one more flip with her spatula before dumping them on top. “When you hold me in your arms so tight, you let me know everything’s all right! I-I-I-I-I’m hooked on a feeling! I’m high on believing that you’re in lo-”

She broke off at the sound of a loud knock on her front door. She did a little boogie with her hips as she flipped off the stove in a smooth gesture. Then she danced her way over to the table to drop off her plate on her way to the door. At a much more reasonable volume, she continued to sing as she moved. “Your lips are sweet as candy and the taste stays on my mind. Boy, you got me thirsty for another cup of – Mo? H-hey! What’s up?”

He threw her a pointed look as he walked past her into her living room. “What’s up with me? I came over here to find out what’s up with you.”

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she lied. “I’m just getting ready for work, and -”

“You’re singing,” he finished for her.

She tried one more time to avoid the conversation. “So-o-o?” she asked, drawing out the word. “I…sing. On occasion. Sometimes.”

“Nuh-uh. I’ve lived across the hall from you for a while, and I can tell you one thing. You? Don’t sing. I sing. Other people sing. But you don’t sing.” When she opened her mouth to protest, he pointed one finger at her. “Zoey? Spill.”

“Oh, all right,” she huffed, collapsing into her chair to eat her rapidly cooling breakfast. “I’m in a good mood because, you know, it’s a beautiful day outside, and things are really going well for me at work, and also,” she took a big bite and ducked her head, hoping to obscure the words, “Max and I kissed.” Swallowing quickly, she looked up and threw Mo a wide grin. “So did you want a cup of coffee or something? I don’t have a lot of time, but -”

“But you are going to make time because I heard you, and you are not dropping that bombshell on me and then racing out the door.” Mo’s eyes were bright with excitement as he took a seat on the other side of the table. When Zoey didn’t say anything right away, he prompted, “So? Details!”

She sighed and started pushing her congealing eggs around her plate. “It’s…complicated.” That word again. She was starting to hate that word.

“Uh huh. I’m sure. So who kissed who? Did that man finally give in to the burning passion that’s been building up inside him for years? Or did you decide it was high time to take him for a test ride?”

She rolled her eyes. “Neither.” She paused. “Or both? I don’t know. In answer to your question, he kissed me. But I kind of made him.” At Mo’s confused expression, she explained, “Okay, so you’re probably going to think this is ridiculous, but I kinda…sorta…asked Max to pretend to date me. Just until my dad…just to make my dad happy for these last few weeks.”

She expected a wide range of reactions to her confession, but he just blinked at her a few times, stunned. “You’re pretending to date Max.” She nodded. “And so that’s why you two kissed.” She nodded again. “Because you’re pretending to date each other.” One more nod. “Which is definitely a thing normal people do. And I guess the only way could convince your family you were dating at that moment was to kiss him.”

Zoey couldn’t meet his eyes. “Well, technically nobody else was around. We were…practicing.”

Mo leaned back in his chair. “Right. If you’re going to pretend to date someone, it only makes sense that you have to practice pretending to kiss them. So you can do it convincingly. Out of curiosity, how many practice kisses did it take?”

She winced. Splaying her hands, she tapped her fingertips together and said meekly, “Well, that depends how you want to count them. Do you mean incidents of practice kissing, or number of times our lips may have met during those incidents?” Mo just cupped his chin in one hand and threw her an expectant look. “So…we only had that one incident. Um, so far. And as for the other question,” she began scrunching her face in thought, “I’m honestly not sure.”

“Well, since you’ve been singing “Hooked on a Feeling” all morning, I don’t think there’s any need to ask you how you liked the kiss. Or kisses.”

Zoey felt warmth spread from her chest, up her neck, to her face, and she assumed if she looked at her reflection at that moment, she’d see she’d turned bright red. “In all fairness, Max is…skilled…in the…arts…related to…the lips. And tongue.” She hid her mouth behind her coffee and mumbled in an undertone, “And teeth.”

Mo threw back his head and laughed. “Oh, I see. I had such high hopes for him. Good to know he didn’t let me down. So, I take this to mean you finally made your decision.”

“My decision?” she asked with feigned innocence, standing to take her dishes to the sink. She really would be late if she didn’t get moving. “I don’t know what you mean.”

Unsurprisingly, he wasn’t willing to let it go. “You’ve been torn between Simon and Max for months. I was hoping all this meant that you’ve finally decided to pick a side.”

“There’s no side!” she protested, throwing up her hands. “Simon is…a great guy. And attractive. And completely engaged to someone else. Max is,” she paused, waving one hand helplessly in the air as though trying to summon the words before continuing, “well, he’s Max. I’m not deciding anything because there’s nothing to decide! I am not in a place to get into a real relationship right now. This whole thing with Max is just…it’s all pretend. So that my dad doesn’t worry about me. And when it’s over…”

Mo’s eyes were sympathetic when he finished her sentence for her. “And when it’s over, the kisses stop. And eventually, he may move on to someone who doesn’t just want a pretend relationship. Is that really what you want?”

Zoey sighed as she shrugged into her coat and reached for the door. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “But I just…I can’t deal with anything real right now.”

Mo paused and put his hand on her shoulder as he walked past her into the hall. “Well, next time you decide to practice kissing with Max, you let me know how it goes. Soap operas have less drama than you do.”

She rolled her eyes good-naturedly as she jogged down the steps, though she found herself singing in an undertone again by the time she hit the street. “All the good love when we’re all alone. Keep it up, boy. Yeah, you turn me on. I’m hooked on a feeling! I’m high on believing that you’re in love with me…”

Was it her imagination, or was Max avoiding her? She’d tried not to read too much into his behavior, but every time she tried to grab a few moments with him alone, he suddenly remembered a very pressing appointment he needed to make. Or phone call. Or conversation. On the other side of the building.

As she stood on the top of the risers and watched him work at his desk, she couldn’t help but wonder. Was she really that bad of a kisser? Sure, she was a little out of practice, but she couldn’t possibly be that bad, could she? Not bad enough to justify him doing everything in his power to avoid having to kiss her again. The very thought was demoralizing.

Giving her head a quick, determined shake, she hopped down the risers and approached his desk. “Max? Do you have a minute?”

“Oh, hey, Zoey!” he greeted her with false cheer. “Ah, you know, I’d love to talk, but I have something I need to deal with first. For, um, for Joan.”

That did it. She followed him to their boss’s office, but before he could walk inside, she darted around him. “Hey, Joan?” she asked brightly, poking her head inside the office door. “I need to grab Max for a few minutes, okay? We’ll be right back.”

Joan made a disgusted face. “I do not need to know what the two of you do on your lunch hour. Just leave me out of it,” she replied, waving the two of them away.

“Great!” she replied, grabbing Max’s arm and propelling him towards the elevators. “Max, I think you and I need to go for a cup of coffee.”

“Well, we have a -” he began, turning towards the coffee bar.

She shook her head. “Outside. Just the two of us.”

The silence that fell between them was strained as they rode the elevator down to the ground floor and headed outside. Now that she had Max alone, she wasn’t sure what to say. They were a few doors down from SPRQ Point’s entrance when she couldn’t take the silence any longer. Stopping next to some concrete stairs, she climbed up the first step so she could look him in the eye. “Okay, look. There’s something I need to – I’m sorry about last night. I know I – it was pretty bad, huh?”

His face fell. “Bad? You’d really describe it as bad?”

She barely registered his disappointment too wrapped up in her own self-doubt. It wasn’t every day that a girl found out her kisses were so awkward, her partner would rather avoid her than risk hurting her feelings. “I was just nervous, you know? And, okay, I’m a little out of practice. But I think if we just…oh, to hell with it.” Before she could embarrass herself further, she wrapped her arms around Max’s neck and practically threw herself at him, launching herself into his arms as she pressed her lips against his.

Max let out a soft sound of surprise, his arms wrapping around her instinctively as she landed against his chest. But a moment later, they tightened, holding her steady as she deepened the kiss. She curled her fingers into his hair, which was somehow softer than she’d imagined, and almost wanted to cheer aloud when he started to kiss her back.

Last night, he had taken charge of the kiss, overwhelming her senses as he pulled her deeper and deeper into the embrace. This time, she was determined to set the pace. She brushed feather-soft kisses against his lips until they parted for her, and when she felt him try to take control, she teased him by pulling away slightly. He moaned, but he relented, and so she ran her tongue consolingly along the curve of his lower lip and deepened the kiss once more.

She didn’t know how long they stood there, locked in their embrace, but the soft sound of someone clearing their throat a few feet away finally penetrated Zoey’s mental fog and caught her attention. Reluctantly, she pulled away from Max and looked over his shoulder, almost falling over when she saw her mom, dad, Emily, and Howie staring at her.

“Mom! Dad! Wh-what are you doing here?” she asked, scrambling out of Max’s embrace and trying desperately to get her clothes in order.

Emily had her head tilted to the side, giving them both a considering look. Her mom looked amused, and though it was sometimes hard to read her dad’s expressions, she could swear there was both surprise and happiness in his eyes. For his part, Howie was looking at the sky, like he was searching for passing airplanes. “Emily had an appointment at the doctor today, and David’s hearing is running late, so she asked us to come along. We were just headed to lunch and thought we’d stop by and invite you to join us,” her mom explained. “You too, Max, of course.”

“If we aren’t interrupting anything,” Howie added dryly.

“Interrupting? Us? N-no! Of course not!” Zoey stammered, grabbing Max’s hand as she stepped down next to him. “We were just on our way to lunch, too. We’d be happy to join you.”

“You know, if you wanted some time alone, I could -” Max began, but Zoey squeezed his hand and threw him a threatening look.

“Don’t you dare.” If she had to face her family with the knowledge they’d just seen her make out with her fake-boyfriend in front of the entire world, she wasn’t going to do it alone.

They had walked only about a half a block before her sister-in-law commented, “So, I guess things really are fine between you guys.”

Feeling her cheeks heat, Zoey replied defensively, “Of course they are! We just…needed a little time. To get used to things.”

“Uh huh. Well, you better be careful,” Emily advised. “Last time David kissed me like that, I ended up like this.” She gestured toward her pregnant stomach.

Max let out a tiny, surprised puff of laughter, while Zoey inwardly cringed. “Ew!” she cried, only half-jokingly. She covered her face, though whether it was to avoid looking at Emily’s expression or to prevent Max from seeing her own, she wasn’t entirely sure. “I did not need to know that, thank you!”

“I’m just saying,” Emily remarked with an unrepentant grin.

In a voice slightly louder and a shade higher-pitched than usual, Max tried desperately to change the subject, “So, Mitch, did you see the game last week?”

Mitch shifted in his seat to look up at him, just as Howie said jovially, “So, Max. Mitch said you asked Zoey out using a flash mob. That’s pretty brave!”

Zoey’s stomach twisted into a knot, and she wracked her brain for a way to change the subject. She didn’t want to talk about this. Her family all thought that this story had a happy ending, but of course she knew it didn’t. She didn’t want Max to be hurt by the reminder.

She started to comment on the weather, when Emily interjected, “Especially since Zoey isn’t always good at dealing with big emotional moments.”

Her head whipped around as she turned to stare at her sister-in-law. “What are you talking about! I don’t have a problem with big emotional moments!”

“Which is why you ran away afterwards?” Emily pointed out. Zoey loved her sister-in-law, but at times like this, it was sometimes hard to remember that her bluntness was meant with kindness. After all, she – like everyone else in her family – believed that things had all worked out in the end, and Zoey had ultimately realized she reciprocated Max’s feelings. If she hadn’t, Zoey knew she wouldn’t be so cruel as to make light of such a painful memory.

Zoey wanted to console Max, but he was the one who gave her hand a quick, comforting squeeze. She looked up into his eyes and saw a quick flash of the heartache he tried to hide, but then he released her and shifted away. “Well, you didn’t see me dance. I only had three rehearsals, after all. Running away might have been the right call,” he joked, breaking out into a couple impromptu dance moves on the sidewalk. Redirecting the conversation away from her reaction to his confession. Making a mockery of his own pain to shield her from her own.

“Max, no,” she protested softly, reaching for his arm. Had he always done this, protecting her at the cost of his own feelings? She’d never thought about it before, but she had a suspicion the answer was yes, and it broke her heart. Determined to stop her family from unintentionally causing him further agony, she said loudly, “That’s not what happened. I -”

“Well, at least it all worked out, and you two realized you love each other. That’s all that matters. And it sounds like it was a wonderful gesture, Max. The kind of moment Mitch would have loved,” Maggie cut in, oblivious to her daughter’s inner turmoil. “He’s always been a sucker for those big, romantic moments. Haven’t you, Mitch?”

Her father indicated agreement, and the opportunity to clear the air was lost as the conversation redirected to more mundane logistical matters when they entered the restaurant. But Zoey noticed that Max didn’t reach for her hand again throughout lunch, or on the walk back to the office. She was only now beginning to realize how many small sacrifices Max made on her behalf. How many times she’d probably inadvertently wounded him, without even realizing it – not just now, but in all the years of their friendship leading up to this moment. What that must have cost him – and continued to cost him still, as he covered up his pain with humor and hid it from the world. From her.

She missed the warmth of his hand in hers.

Max groaned as he looked over at the clock. Curling his arm underneath his head, he glanced over at the clock on his nightstand. It was after two, and he was completely unable to fall asleep. He kept thinking about Zoey and their kiss. Kisses.

“They didn’t mean anything, Max,” he scolded himself, but even in the quiet solitude of his bedroom, his words lacked conviction. She’d kissed him earlier that day, hadn’t she? Of course, their whole pretend relationship was her idea, so that didn’t have to mean anything. But she hadn’t just kissed him. She’d kissed him. Like she meant it. Like she didn’t want to stop.

Maybe things had changed for her. They’d certainly changed for him. Maybe he should ask her. Would that really be so terrible?

Yes, it would. Because she’d already asked him for time, and he’d agreed to give it to her. He’d promised he wouldn’t allow himself to be confused by their fake relationship. She knew how he felt, and she’d already told him she wasn’t ready for more, and it wouldn’t be right to pressure her.

Plus, she’d said their first kiss was bad, earlier. And maybe she hadn’t mean it the way it sounded; he couldn’t be entirely sure. But still, he doubted anyone went from calling a kiss “bad” one minute to declaring their undying love in the next.

Bad. Bad? She’d thought it was bad? He’d thought it was pretty earth-shattering himself, but…no. He wasn’t going to allow himself to dwell on the thought she hadn’t been as moved by their first kiss as he was. Of course she wasn’t. Didn’t that basically sum up their whole relationship? That she barely noticed moments that left him wanting more?

So, no. He shouldn’t say anything. He should absolutely keep his feelings to himself. Keep repeating to himself that none of it meant anything.

But it felt like it had meant something.

Before he could resume his mental merry-go-round, torturing himself with questions that had no clear answers, he heard a sound at his front door. Sitting up, he strained to listen and heard it again. Light tapping, like someone faintly knocking.

Confused, he jumped out of bed and headed to the door. When he looked through the peephole and saw a familiar tumble of red hair, he caught his breath. Could it really be Zoey? Had he somehow conjured her there with his thoughts? Or was his sleep-deprived brain playing tricks on him?