Summer: Day 3

Mack's POV:

I slept in until eleven this morning, my mom having to pull the covers off of me so that the coolness of the air would wake me up. Even then, it took all of my willpower to force myself out of bed.

I'm taking couch potato to a whole other level.

When I'm done getting ready for the day and I feel like my normal self, sporting gray sweatpants and a plain white crop top; an outfit that should be a staple in every girl's closet, I find my feet leading me next door to the Montgomery house.

Amber Montgomery is a single mother, having raised two of the most obnoxious boys on the planet—one boy taking place as my best friend and the other as my lifetime crush.

Kylar Montgomery, the youngest out of the two, also known as my best friend and willing accomplice, looked nothing like his brother. If someone were to ask me to describe him, I'd say he's as ordinary as ordinary could be. He has dirty-blonde hair, doey-brown eyes, and is five-foot-ten. His limbs are long and lanky, almost as if he was uncomfortable with the way his body was growing. However, he has a nice butt (from being on the school's track team), though other than that, the kid was zero percent ripped. I guess he did have abs, but only because he was so skinny.

However, if someone were to ask me to explain Zachariah Montgomery, that is a different story. So different that I might even have to write a full-blown essay, or book, to describe his features. He's the typical 'bad boy next door' you see in movies and read about in books. The catch? He lives next door to me of all people, and his brother is my best friend.

There are no words in the English language fitting enough to describe his cold-stone beauty. If looks could kill, everyone would be dead under his presence. His face and monster of a figure is so captivatingly hard-set that it'd make you jump out of your skin the minute he glares at you. Around his friends he was funny and sarcastic, but piss him off and you're as good as six feet under. Luckily, I got the upperhand of the deal because I'm always hanging around Kylar and even so, be that as it may, I was inevitably at the bottom of the tier—an invisible acquaintance.

It wasn't always this way though. My childhood consisted of pillow fights, water balloon battles, glow-in-the-dark hide-and-go-seek, and trampoline sleepovers with the boys. Then high school hit, and Zach was suddenly 'too cool' for me and Kylar.

If it's any consolation, we're only two grades below him.

Zachariah ignored me most of the time from seventh grade until junior year, the year he left for college. Him coming back this summer unexpectedly, seeing him again after all this time, and talking with him like we've been friends for the past four years when we weren't is some weird crap. Both mind-boggling and disturbing.

I give my signature knock on the mahogany wood front door; bump-bump-*pause*-bump-bump-bump. Not that you'd care anyway.

The door swings open, uncovering a very pink Kylar. I forgot he was working at the ice cream shop this summer. "Nice outfit, Ky."

"I like to think pink is a very manly color," he says, pulling me into a hug, and engulfing me in a soft, cotton shirt dyed the shade of a hot pink. "And I wouldn't take fashion advice from a specimen like you."

I nod at him, patting his head. "I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that." I walk into the living room fifty feet away from where we're standing. "What time do you have to go to work?"

He checks his phone for the time. "I have to leave in like five minutes, sadly. Sorry I can't be here to entertain you."

I give him a sarcastic glare. "Like you're even that entertaining. I still can't believe you decided to ditch me this summer."

"We still have next year before we go to college," he says happily, a boyish grin spreading across his face.

Shaking my head, I sigh. "We'll probably be busy looking at different colleges next summer."

"Don't act like we're so doomed," he pouts, tugging at his golden hair. "I don't want to think about the future and you're already making me hate it."

I laugh, my voice echoing off the walls and booming through the house. "Oh, grow up, Kylar. You're such a kid." I chuck a pillow at him and he catches it before it hits his face.

"For the record," he begins, a finger in the air, "I am very grown up."

"You're working at an ice cream shop," I deadpan. "What part of sprinkles and rainbows is grown up?"

"Hey, a grown up owns this ice cream shop, Mack. I'm pretty sure he's not the five year old you're trying to describe." Kylar offers me a pointed look, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

"My point exactly," I say, gesturing at his actions. "You're the five year old I'm describing."

"Shut up," Kylar grumbles, throwing the pillow back at me.

Out of nowhere, Zachariah comes into view, and I'm too distracted by his handsomeness to catch the pillow, causing it to hit me in the face. I fall off the couch with a loud thud. How in the world did a pillow do that?

Zach turns his attention to us and makes eye contact with me, my cheeks reddening in embarrassment. Because I think we're on speaking terms, I wave at him. However, although he clearly sees me, he turns back around and continues doing whatever he was doing before, completely ignoring my presence. I frown.

Kylar scoffs from behind me, helping me up. "He's not worth it, Mack," he whispers under his breath. "And I'd die happy knowing you guys haven't slept together."

I punch him in the shoulder and glare at him as he whines. "Ky, I think you need to leave for work now."

He rolls his eyes at me, but smiles anyway. "I hate you."

"Love you too," I smirk, sticking my tongue out at him. "Have fun at work."

"I'll bring you back a carton of birthday cake, yeah?" he says, walking to get his keys from the hooks by the door.

My face lights up at the mention of my favorite ice cream flavor. "Would you?"

He nods, informing me, "My shift ends at six tonight."

"Okay, see you later." Waving at him, he leaves through the front door and after a minute I hear his car peel out of the driveway.

I reach to grab the remote to the television on the coffee table in front of me, but a strong hand grabs my wrist. I gulp, looking up at his stupidly blue, blue eyes.

"C'mon we're meeting some of my friends for lunch," he states, letting go of my wrist as I shake it away.

"No."

"I wasn't asking you, Mackenzie."

I scoff, crossing my arms. "Well, Zachariah, I'm telling you that I'm not going."

He clenches his jaw as he glances at the clock above the fireplace. "And why the hell not?"

I stand up from the couch and try to intimidate him, which is quite hard when he's a solid foot taller than me. "Why do you think, huh?"

His eyes flicker to mine and he looks at me confused. "What?"

"I waved at you earlier and you turned your back to me," I accuse, pointing an index finger in his chest. "That was quite rude, mister."

He chuckles, his fingers finding the hair tie on my wrist. "You think Kylar would suspect something if I started being nice to you all of a sudden?"

I go to open my mouth, but nothing comes out. He's right again. Damn him. Instead of trying to formulate a sentence, I nod my head in agreement.

"That's what I thought," he grumbles. After a minute, his eyes look down at me as his mouth turns up into a small smile. "Can we please go now? I told them we'd be there ten minutes ago."

I glare at him. "I'm still mad at you."

Zachariah smirks, winking at me. "Sure you are, sweetheart." Again, with the nickname. His hand grabs mine and he pats his pockets down to make sure he has his phone and wallet on him. "Bye, Mom. I'm taking Mackenzie out to lunch!" he shouts.

I hear Amber running down the hall, her voice chirping, "You're taking who out to—" but before she could finish, we were already out the door and halfway to his car.

"Wait!" I blurt out, stopping in my tracks. "Can I change first?"

"You don't need to," he retorts.

I shake my head. "But I look bad right now."

"No," he says, taking in my appearance. "You look pretty."

Wait, huh? Blushing, I scoff and argue, "No I don't."

Denial is the best way to know if someone is lying; their reaction to your denying their compliment speaks volumes. Just a tip for everyone out there, but then again it's not like I'm an expert on relationship advice or anything.

"Mackenzie, you look pretty," he repeats, running a hand through his already messy hair before opening my door. "Just get in the car."

I groan, finally hooking my left leg in the passenger side before settling down in the seat. Someone remind me why I like this guy? Right, right—because he's six-foot-two, has brown hair, blue eyes, and he just called me pretty. But that's insinuating he actually meant it.

******

AT THE DINER in our small beach town of Hilton Head, South Carolina, Zach and I sit shoulder to shoulder in a booth across from his two friends Tanner and Corey. They're all laughing at some meme that popped up on their instagram feed, but I'm too preoccupied with my stack of pancakes to pay them any attention.

That is, until I feel Zachariah's hand brush against the outside of my thigh before resting it on my knee. Is it just me or did it just get ten degrees hotter in here?

He leans over across the table to grab a napkin and then settles back against the red cushion of the booth. My eyes are trained on him, especially since he doesn't move his hand, and when he feels my gaze boring holes into the side of his head, he finally glances at me, smiling wide.

"How's your food?" he asks.

His smile is so contagious, I smile back. "Great. Just like I remembered it from when we were little." Truth is, we used to go to this diner all the time, but ever since Zachariah built his empire of brick walls, I haven't been back.

"So what's new in the sweet life of Zach and Mack?" Corey teases, looking between the two of us. "I still can't believe you guys have been together for a year. Out of everything, who would've thought?"

I let out a small giggle, my nose wrinkling as I cut another bite of my food. "Yeah, who would've thought." My voice comes out a little sarcastic, but I butter it up with, "But it's kinda hard to avoid someone like him when he's your best friend's brother." Damn me.

Zachariah raises an eyebrow at me and I nod my head, trying to act unaffected. Stupid me and my mouth. Acting like he got the message, he continues, "And when she's got an ass like that, it's hard not to—"

"Zachariah!" I scold, my face turning as red as a tomato.

"To what?" Tanner eggs on. Yup, he's definitely the dirtiest minded of the group.

Zach looks at me and I shake my head. Sighing, he says, "Nothing."

Tanner gives him a face of disappointment before breaking out into a roaring laughter. "Oh. My. God. You are so damn whipped, bro."

And all Zachariah does is purse his lips and nod, taking his friends' criticism and blows. "I know," he says, smiling down at me like I'm the only girl in the world. "But I've got her wrapped around my finger too." His lips graze my temple, and here I am again swooning internally as a dreamy-eyed fangirl of his.

"The audacity you have—" I start before our waitress comes over to our table.

"Anything else I can get for you today?" she says, batting her eyelashes ferociously at the guys, more specifically, Zachariah.

I nod. "Yeah, can you get the piece of dust that's stuck in your eye out? Your blinking is disturbing my eating environment." Seriously, who does she think she is? I was talking, lady, and you interrupted me.

The guys' cheeks blow up like a balloon at my comment as they try to suppress their laughter, and she lets out a small scream before storming away, hands balled into tight fists. Good, the girl can go fix her eye now.

Zachariah gives me a look. "Mackenzie!"

"What—" I say, trying to defend myself.

He cuts me off, "That was freaking hilarious."

Author's Note:

Please vote and comment, my lovies <3

I LOVE the way Kylar and Mack's friendship is coming along! Let me know your thoughts :)