Pursuit of Happiness | Taz Skylar [1]

001. conditions for the maid of honour

Zoe was still struggling to pull herself into consciousness, only vaguely aware of the comforting weight across her lower legs, when a loud knocking sound cut its way through the silence. The weight across Zoe's legs lifted and she opened her eyes in time to watch a blur of brown fur launch itself off of the bed and out of the door, barking loudly.

"Alright, alright!" Zoe grumbled, her voice thick with sleep. Rolling her eyes, Zoe used her feet to kick back the covers before sitting up. Half of her hair had fallen out of its ponytail, but Zoe couldn't bring herself to care as she looked around for the sweatpants that she'd discarded the night before. She found them on the floor, one leg inside out. After retrieving them and turning them the right way, Zoe pulled them on and then left the bedroom.

"Okay, Okay, stop with the fucking – oh," Zoe remarked, her annoyance falling away when she opened the door and the knocking was interrupted, becoming replaced by the bright-eyed face of Bree Suen. Zoe barely had the time to take in Bree's ecstatic expression before she was surging forward towards Zoe, shouting her name far too loudly for this time in the morning and looping her arms around Zoe's neck in a tight hug.

Even as she went stumbling backwards, only barely managing to dodging the dog standing underfoot, Zoe was laughing. "So, he popped the question, then?"

Bree pulled out of the hug immediately, peering down at Zoe curiously. "You knew?"

Zoe scoffed, a grin tugging at her mouth as she stepped around Bree to close the door behind her, now that they were standing in the apartment. "Who do you think helped him pick the ring?"

Shaking her head, Bree moved over to the breakfast bar that served as Zoe's kitchen table, pulling one of the stools out so that she could lift herself up onto it. "Does that mean you don't want to see it?"

"Of course I do, moron. Show me," Zoe demanded, holding out a hand expectantly. Bree laughed, but she did as Zoe asked, resting her hand on Zoe's palm. Zoe couldn't have missed the ring nestled on Bree's fourth finger if she'd tried. The stone was square shaped and the band was adorned with little stones. It was slightly flashier than anything else that Bree owned, but just as Zoe had suspected, she seemed to adore it.

"I'm glad you like it. He was really worried you wouldn't," Zoe said, dropping Bree's hand and stepping closer so that she could wrap Bree in another hug.

"I love it. I told him that he's picking the wedding bands," Bree replied, fingers clinging to Zoe's shoulders. Bree felt Zoe's laugh rumble through her chest, and Bree added, "He told me it was stressful enough picking one. He's sure as hell not picking two, apparently."

Zoe's second laugh was louder, making her throw her head back with it as she rubbed a hand up and down Bree's back before releasing her. "You'll figure it out. Do you want breakfast?"

"Do you have bacon?"

"Do I have bacon? What the hell do you take me for?" Zoe remarked, tossing a grin at Bree over her shoulder as she crossed the kitchen to the fridge. Bree smiled back at her, her fingers absently playing with her engagement ring, turning it around her finger in smooth, fluid motions. She watched as Zoe retrieved the eggs and the bacon from the fridge, placing them on the counter before turning to grab a pan from the cupboard.

"Speaking of, I wanted to ask you something," Bree asked, her fiddling with the ring becoming more erratic, almost nervous. Picking up on the absence of the prior joy in her friend's voice, Zoe looked up, halfway through turning on the stove. Bree wasn't looking at her, instead choosing to look down at her hands, resting on the countertop as she asked, "Um . . . I was wondering if you wanted to be my maid of honour?"

A smile spread across Zoe's lips before she even had the chance to process what was being asked of her, but then Bree was speaking again, before Zoe even had the chance to respond. "I just have a condition."

Zoe's brows knitted together into a frown. "A condition? For me being your maid of honour?"

Bree looked apologetic as she nodded her head. "Unfortunately, yeah."

"Is it my smoking?"

"No," Bree replied, tucking her hair behind her ears, only to shake her head, which caused it to fall forward once more. "Jay's already picked his best man. He wants it to be Taz."

"Oh," Zoe said, looking away.

"I tried to get him to budge, but he wouldn't, and I won't budge on you. Jay spoke to him already, and he said he's fine to make it work if you are . . ." Bree stopped mid-ramble, seeing how Zoe appeared to have shut down, her hands braced against the countertop and her head bowed to stare at the unlit stove. Unsure of what to say, Bree asked, "Have you seen him at all? Since . . ."

Zoe shook her head. "Not since we broke up."

There was a beat of silence, filled only with the soft patter of paws against the floor that made their way towards Bree, before a wet nose nudged against her knee. Fondness smoothed out the worried lines in Bree's face as she leaned down to pat the dog's head, murmuring, "Hey, Palkia. How are you doing, girl?"

Palkia's only response was a gentle wag of her tail.

"I'll be okay," Zoe said quietly, so quiet that at first Bree wasn't sure that she'd heard her at first. Then, when Bree looked over at her, finding Zoe looking at her with eyes that looked faraway, lost in the past, but filled with a strange sort of conviction, Zoe confirmed, "I can be civil. It'll be okay."

"You're sure?"

"Yeah," Zoe replied, but it was accompanied by a few more nods of her head than were necessary, and Bree wasn't sure who exactly Zoe was trying to convince – Bree, or herself.