The Boyfriend Thief (18 page)

Zac dug his hands into his pockets. I couldn’t read anything from his neutral expression. “What about Costa Rica?”

“I’ll have to wait another year, but it will be okay. Costa Rica will still be there and I’ll have the entire summer to save up the rest of the money. I couldn’t go with Hannah’s money, not after it cost me you. This whole thing was a huge mistake.”

“Some good did come out of it,” Zac said, shuffling one foot along the rocks in the parking lot. “We had a deal, after all. If we made an A on the project, you’d dance and I would talk to my dad.”

My eyes widened. “You told him about the comedy show?”

Zac nodded. “I told him yesterday. He didn’t take it as well as I’d hoped, but at least he didn’t threaten to lock me in his store and force me to like it. Then today he seemed to accept it a bit better. He mentioned coming to see me perform sometime. So I’d say that’s a little bit of progress.”

Maybe what I’d said to Mr. Greeley had done some good. “He’ll come around one day,” I said, hoping it was true. Zac’s face shone when he was happy. He needed to be onstage performing for people.

“It was a pretty crappy thing you did,” he told me, not meeting my gaze. “I couldn’t believe all this time you were spending time with me because Hannah had paid you to.”

The hurt in his voice made my chest ache. “It wasn’t the only reason I spent time with you.”

When he didn’t say anything, I sighed. “I wasn’t a good boyfriend thief anyway, if that makes it any better. I’m terrible at flirting and have no idea how to win a guy over.”

“Actually,” Zac said, “I think you were pretty great at it.”

He looked at me through the fringe of dark hair that had fallen into his eyes, his head still bent, and a slow smile spread across his face.

There went my heart, plummeting into the bottom of my bun.

“Really?” I tapped my finger against my chin. “I was thinking of retiring as a professional boyfriend thief, but if I’m good at it, maybe I should keep up the job?”

Zac grabbed my wrists and pulled me toward him, crushing the foam hot dog between us. “Don’t steal anymore hearts,” he told me. “You’ve already got mine.”

He kissed me, his lips warm and soft against my own. His fingers tangled in my hair, pressing me closer to him.

When we finally came up for air, my lungs feeling as if they were about to burst, I said, “I thought we weren’t a good match. A to Z Love Matches didn’t calculate us to work together.”

“I thought you didn’t believe in matchmaking.”

“A good businesswoman should have confidence in her product.”

“A good businesswoman also understands that sometimes dynamics change and a computer can’t calculate all of the various conditions.”

“Hmm,” I said, slipping my arms around his neck. “And what conditions are those?”

“Well, for one, I really love hot dogs.” Zac’s mouth curled into a grin, his eyes twinkling in the light of a passing car. “And two, you look cute when you shake your bun.”

He ducked out of the way when I tried to swat at him with one of the giant foam hands. With a laugh, he pulled me back to him for another kiss.

Most days, Shana Norris still feels like she’s stuck at sixteen, which is probably why she enjoys writing about teens. Thankfully, she’s never had to work as a giant hot dog, but she did work at a locksmith shop making keys for six months. She currently lives in a small town in eastern North Carolina with her husband and small zoo of pets, which currently includes two dogs and five cats. Discover other books by Shana Norris at her website
www.shananorris.com
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