The Captain's Dirty Little Secret

Chapter 270: Chapter 270 - The Way Home

ZAC’S POV

Zac had almost forty minutes before he needed to be at work, which normally gave him enough time to walk into town without rushing, grab something cheap to eat if he was hungry and get to the coffee shop a few minutes before his shift. Instead, the moment he walked out of Briarwick, he turned toward the cemetery.

He realized what he was doing before he even reached the gate, but Zac shoved his hands deeper into the pockets of his hoodie and kept walking anyway.

Technically, the cemetery was a shortcut depending on where someone was going, though he knew it was only Roxie using this route. It cut behind the older neighborhoods and eventually reached the road leading toward Roxie’s bungalow, and Zac could turn from there toward town without being late for work.

It was also complete bullshit.

The cemetery had never been part of his route before Roxie. Zac had never been through it, but once they started dating, he walked through it enough that he knew which section flooded after heavy rain, where the pavement cracked near the trees and which gate Roxie usually used when she was coming home from school.

It had become part of their routine without either of them ever deciding that it was.

Roxie would walk beside him after practice complaining about Coach Miller making them repeat the same routine until her legs felt dead. She would steal whatever Zac happened to be drinking even after insisting she did not want anything, then act offended when he tried taking it back. On days when she was exhausted, Zac carried her cheer bag until she accused him of treating her like she was weak, even though she had been the one complaining about how fucking heavy it was five minutes earlier.

He smiled slightly as he got near Margaret’s grave.

There was a narrow stretch between two rows of older headstones where Roxie always complained that he walked too fast. The difference in their height made his normal pace annoying for her, and instead of simply asking him to slow down like a normal person, Roxie usually threatened violence.

"Slow the fuck down."

"You could walk faster."

"I’ll trip you."

"You’d have to catch me first."

She had shoved him hard enough once that his shoulder bumped into a tree, then looked personally offended when he laughed at her.

The memory made his smile disappear as quickly as it had come.

When they first started secretly seeing each other, this route had been useful as their time together. A place where they could kiss and hold hands in public where no one could see them.

School, cemetery, bungalow.

Zac slowed without meaning to.

His eyes went toward the gate behind him before moving farther along the path. He knew roughly what time Roxie usually left after cheer, how long she spent changing and talking to Karen or Angela afterward, and how long it normally took her to reach this part of the cemetery.

The realization made him pull out his phone.

Three thirty eight.

If practice ended early today and Roxie came straight here, she would probably reach the cemetery in another few minutes.

Zac stared at the time before slowly lowering his phone. He was fucking waiting for her.

There was no excuse left after that. He had deliberately chosen the route Roxie used to walk home, arrived close to the time he knew she would be here and slowed down once he reached the part where they usually crossed paths.

After breaking up with her, refusing to text her, telling himself kissing her in the storage room had been a mistake and then following her outside the coffee shop because she looked pissed, Zac had somehow moved on to hanging around her route home hoping to see her.

Really fucking healthy.

He rubbed both hands over his face and considered leaving. He had work anyway. He could turn around, take the main road and spare himself whatever pathetic shit he was currently doing.

Then the gate opened behind him.

Zac turned immediately.

Roxie walked through alone with her handbag resting against her hip and her attention on her phone. Her hair was still pulled back from practice, though loose strands had fallen around her face, and she wore the black jacket she sometimes threw over her cheer clothes when the weather got cold.

Every other thought disappeared.

Zac watched her approach and immediately started noticing things he had absolutely no reason to care about anymore. She looked tired. Her shoulders were lower than usual and she walked more slowly while reading something on her screen. A few seconds later, the corner of her mouth lifted into a small smile, and Zac’s first thought was wondering who had sent whatever she was reading.

Karen, probably.

Or Angela.

Maybe some guy.

His jaw tightened before he caught himself.

He had no fucking right to care.

Roxie kept getting closer, and Zac almost stepped onto the path before his brain caught up with the movement. For months, seeing Roxie coming toward him had meant going to her. There had never been anything to think about. He saw her, she saw him, and within seconds they were walking beside each other.

Then he remembered they were broken up.

There were enough trees and old headstones between them that Roxie had not noticed him, so Zac stayed where he was and watched her walk through the same places they used to pass together.

She went by the section where she had once sat near the edge of the path fixing the strap on her shoe while Zac complained that they were going to be late. A little farther ahead was the tree he nearly hit when she shoved him. Then came the stretch where Roxie had grabbed his hand the first time they walked through here after their relationship became public.

None of it meant anything to her now. At least it did not look like it did. Roxie simply walked home the way she probably had hundreds of times before Zac ever started walking beside her.

That thought hurt more than it should have.

She slipped her phone into her handbag and adjusted the strap, giving Zac a clearer look at her face for a few seconds. He wanted to call her name so badly that his chest tightened. He could almost picture her turning around, seeing him and immediately asking what the fuck he was doing there. Then he could walk beside her, take her cheer bag if she complained about it, listen to whatever pissed her off today and follow the route all the way back to the bungalow like he still belonged there.

Zac stayed where he was.

Roxie eventually passed through the far gate and disappeared toward the road leading home.

He watched the empty path for another few seconds before giving a bitter laugh and shaking his head. He had been the one who broke up with her, yet somehow, he had ended up hiding in a fucking cemetery just to watch her walk home.

Fantastic progress.

Zac checked the time and finally headed toward town before he made himself late.

Work helped once he got there. A week into the job, Zac knew enough that he could move through most of a shift without thinking about every little thing. He took orders, made drinks, restocked cups, cleaned counters and listened to customers ask questions already answered by the menu hanging directly above his head. It gave his brain something to deal with that had nothing to do with Roxie, Dylan, Tennessee or his family, and lately that was probably the closest thing Zac had to peace.

The owner was sitting at one of the corner tables that afternoon with his laptop open beside a stack of papers, occasionally looking toward the counter. Zac had already learned that whenever he sat there, every employee in the shop suddenly became slightly better at their job.

Zac was wiping down the espresso machine when the front door opened. He glanced up automatically and saw Nathan walking inside.

His mood dropped immediately.

For half a second, Zac tried convincing himself Nathan might actually be there for coffee. Maybe his brother had randomly developed a caffeine addiction and happened to pick the exact shop where Zac worked even though there were other places in town.

Then Nathan saw him and walked straight toward the counter.

Fucking hell.

Zac tossed the cloth beside the sink and moved to the register before one of his coworkers could get there. If Nathan wanted to show up at his job and pretend this was normal, Zac could treat him like every other customer.

Nathan stopped in front of him and stared for several seconds before Zac finally spoke.

"What can I get you?"

Nathan’s jaw tightened slightly. "Can we talk?"

"What can I get you?"

"Zac."

"There’s a line. If you won’t order, move aside."

There was technically one person behind him, but Zac did not care.

Nathan sighed. "Black coffee."

"What size?"

"Medium."

Zac entered the order, took Nathan’s payment and handed him the receipt without giving him anything else. Then he made the coffee, put the lid on and set it on the counter in front of him.

"Here."

Nathan picked it up. "Thanks."

Zac grabbed the cloth again and went back to cleaning.

Nathan stayed.

Zac could feel him standing there even while refusing to look at him.

"Mom’s been asking about you."

Zac kept wiping the counter.

"Dad too."

Still nothing.

Nathan followed when Zac moved toward the other end of the counter. "Mia keeps asking when you’re coming home."

That got him.

Zac stopped and looked at his brother. "Leave Mia out of this."

Nathan’s expression changed slightly because he finally had the reaction he wanted. "She misses you."

"Fuck you."

"She asks about you every day."

Zac gripped the cloth harder. "I said leave her out of it."

One of his coworkers glanced over from the espresso machine, but Nathan either did not notice or did not care.

"Then talk to me."

"I’m working."

"When else am I supposed to talk to you?"

Zac didn’t bother to answer and kept on wiping. He shouldn’t have come here, and Zac had the urge to drag him out by force.

Nathan stepped closer to the counter. "Are you still staying with Dylan?"

Zac ignored him and moved around the register to grab more cups from one of the cabinets.

Nathan followed. "How long are you planning to do that?"

Zac restocked the cups.

"Does his family even want you there?"

That made Zac turn.

Nathan seemed to realize how the question sounded the moment it left his mouth. "That came out wrong."

"Yeah. How can another family want me when my own doesn’t? Is that what you’re saying?"

"I meant..."

"I know what you meant."

The owner had started watching them now, which made Zac’s irritation worse. He had spent a week trying to prove he could actually keep this job, and the last thing he needed was his family showing up to turn the coffee shop into another fucking battlefield.

The owner closed his laptop and stood. "Prescott."

Zac looked over.

"Take your break."

"I’m fine."

"That wasn’t a question. Handle whatever this is outside."

Zac glanced toward Nathan before dropping the cloth and untying his apron. "Yeah."

He headed toward the side door with Nathan following behind him, and the second they stepped into the alley and the door closed, Zac turned around.

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

"I came to talk to you."

"I figured that out."

"Then stop acting like I’m some random customer."

"You came to my job. What? You want me to roll up a red carpet for you?"

"I came here because you won’t answer me anywhere else. You blocked us on everything and when I heard you’re working here... you left me no choice."

"I wonder why."

Nathan exhaled slowly, already looking irritated. "When are you coming home?"

Zac stared at him for a few seconds before laughing because apparently Nathan had actually come here expecting that conversation to go well.

Nathan’s face hardened. "What’s funny?"

"You."

"I’m serious."

"So am I."

"Dad said you can come back."

That stopped the laugh immediately. Zac studied him, already knowing there was more because there was always fucking more with his father.

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