Dylan
I’m on the phone with Trevor when it sounds like Zoe’s about to come through the bedroom wall. What the hell is she doing?
“Let me call you right back.”
Pressing my ear against the door, I take a listen before I barge inside, but the crashing and banging’s stopped. There’s no movement, and I can’t tell if that’s good or bad. “Zoe, are you okay?”
“I’m stuck. Help me!”
The panic in her voice makes me throw the door open, but I end up running into it because it barely budges. Whatever’s in the way, isn’t moving.
“That’s not you is it?”
“No, I’m by the closet.”
Thank god.
It takes two more attempts before I create enough room to squeeze through without getting stuck.
I’m not sure what I was expecting, but it wasn’t Zoe lying underneath a collapsed ironing board and closet door. “What the hell happened?”
“Dylan, this door is heavy.”
“Are you hurt?”
“I don’t think so. My pride’s a little damaged.”
Once I lift everything off of her, I realize she’s half naked. The bra with the sweet little bow has been replaced with red lace and matching bottoms.
“Jesus, fuck,” I mumble as I scoop her up and carry her to the bed. That’s when I notice the broken post. “Oh, Zo. You didn’t.”
She buries her face against my chest. “I did.”
Once I set her down, she reaches for her panties with one hand and pulls the blanket over herself with the other. Seconds later the scrap of lace is dangling from her finger.
“What are you doing?” I ask as my dick painfully presses against my zipper. I should have left my sweats on.
“I’m all wet,” she says, not realizing what she’s implied.
I look around the room, searching for a distraction. Anything to keep from focusing on how little she’s wearing and how much I want her. That’s when I spot the overturned bowl and connect the dots. “The fish.”
“Jaws? Is he still moving?” she asks with little hope in her eyes.
With her naked from the waist down, I’m barely holding it together. But I step over the mess and follow the wet trail on the carpet. Jaws is struggling for air, but I plop him back in the bowl and run to the bathroom to fill it with water.
I won’t have to break any bad news, though. He swims to the surface as soon as the water passes through his gills.
Once he’s on the road to recovery, I take a second to breathe. So much adrenaline has accumulated in my system, my hands are shaking. Now that I know Zoe isn’t hurt, I stupidly visualize her on the bedpost. And I’m so bummed I missed the show.
“Did he die, Dylan?” she yells from her room.
I shouldn’t, but I laugh as I take him back to her bedroom. I knew living with Zoe would be interesting, but she’s already surpassed my expectations.
The smile’s wiped off my face when I see her nestled under the covers. She looks so sweet, so innocent, yet so tempting.
“You’re sure you’re okay?”
Nodding, she sits up and the blanket pools around her waist, keeping her covered on the bottom but showing off the bra on top. She looks hot. “I’m fine, but the bed and the closet door don’t look so good.”
“I’ll fix them. What exactly were you trying to do?” Visions of her dressed the way she is, swinging around her bedpost almost kill me.
“Just trying to find my sexy. If you could have seen the way the other girls moved, Dylan, it was so sensual. I’m a klutz.”
She may smack me, but I lean in and press my lips to hers. For a second she freezes, but once she warms to my touch she kisses me back, harder than ever.
If pole dancing gets her this horned up, I’m definitely encouraging her to go back and give it another try. Call me selfish, I don’t care. She’s kissing me, and right now that’s all that matters.
She places a finger on her swollen bottom lip and says, “What was that?”
“That was us,” I tell her.
Her eyes land on the bedpost and I see how much she wishes she was like all those other girls in the class. But she is like them, she just doesn’t know it.
“Zo, if you could see what I see, you’d understand. This body. Those eyes. Your heart. You don’t get how sexy you are.”
“I guess I don’t.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t feel sexy, Dylan. When I look in the mirror, I see an average girl. A girl who doesn’t spend hours on her hair because she sucks at using the curling iron. A girl who can’t stand a lot of makeup on her face, even though it’d make me prettier. My clothes aren’t designer, they come from sale racks because I’m already knee-deep in school loans. I’m nothing special.”
She doesn’t realize all those qualities are what make her stand out instead of blending in. And not in a bad way. They draw me to her because she’s not obsessed with her appearance—she’s not superficial and she appreciates what she has. “Clothes and money don’t define your existence, Zo.”
“But you’re the only one who thinks that. Everyone else our age is hung up on how I look.”
“Do they matter?”
“I guess not.”
“Do I matter?”
“Of course, you’re my best friend, Dylan.”
“Then I guess you don’t have anything to worry about. Because let me tell you a little secret. You make it so easy to want you, and it has nothing to do with your appearance. I mean, sure, I’m hard as fuck because of this bra, but it’s your smile and your heart that matter to me.”
“You mean that?”
“Zoe, you have a twin. A fucking twin who looks a hell of a lot like you. And I still chose you—I’ll always choose you.”
Chewing on her lip she realizes she’s not covered up and reaches for the blanket. “So you’re saying nerdy is your thing?”
“I’m saying you’re my thing.”
“I want you, too,” she whispers. “I’m just struggling. I can’t seem to stop worrying about all the bad things that can happen to us. Which is stupid, because the good stuff is what feels so good. And there’s been a lot of that.” Her voice is so full of emotion, I think she might cry.
Her eyes shine with unshed tears, and I pull the glasses off her face and set them on the bed. “These eyes have slain me more times than I can count. I may not remember every time I’ve looked into them, but I remember every single time you’ve let me see you.”
“I’m trying to figure out how you can see so much when I can’t.”
She wouldn’t be able to because she doesn’t think she’s worthy. I’m the one who’s not good enough for her. I’m the one who messes up more often than I get it right. Shit, look what I did with Keely. I’ll never forgive myself for that one.
“All you have to do is let me love you,” I tell her. “Everything else will happen on its own.”
“Will it?” she asks with concern and doubt.
“I’m not trying to force you, Zoe. If you can honestly look at me and tell me you don’t want us, I’ll stop pressuring you. I won’t blur any more lines. Is that what you want?”
“The lines are only blurred because we’re not together, Dylan.”
My next question has the potential to destroy me, but I ask it anyway because it’s time. “Zoe, do you want us to be together? Because if you want to be my girlfriend, say so. I’ll give you whatever title you want. Princess. Queen. My Lady. You name it and it’s yours.”
She swallows hard. The answer’s written all over her face, but she’s hesitant to say the words.
“Dylan, I . . .”
Her tone has too much doubt and I panic. Before she can throw away the possibility of being with me, I stop her mid-sentence. “Think about it,” I tell her. “Take some time and really think about us.”
Yes is the only answer I want.
Yes is the only response I’ll be able to live with.
She watches as I place her closet door back on the track. After that, I set her bent ironing board in front of the window. I might be able to straighten the legs if I whack it with a hammer. I check if the bedpost is salvageable, but duct tape is the only solution. “I’ll just toss the post.”
“I can’t believe I broke your mom’s bed.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll sand down what’s left so it’s not sharp. You’re lucky I’m good with my hands.”
Groaning, she tries to suffocate herself with a pillow. “You’re so evil.”
“Because you know it’s true.” I’m about to take her broken post to the trash can when I remember why I was on the phone with Trevor. “Hey, Zo?”
“Yeah?” she keeps her face buried in the pillow, refusing to look at me. Because if she did, she’d cave in a second. And she’s not sure that’s the best option for us.
“Do you care if a couple friends come over tonight?”
“Nope, have at it.”
“Should I tell them I hired some entertainment?” The pillow soars across the room and smacks me in the face. I laugh because I deserve it.
“I’m not sorry,” she says with a straight face that only makes me laugh harder. Serious Zoe is adorable.
As I place the pillow on the bed, I steal one last glance at her beautiful body. I thought Zoe was making sense of my feelings, but she’s still scared. She’s still holding back.
I’d never resort to an ultimatum, but I’m running low on ideas. Something’s gotta give, and I’m hoping a carefree night with friends will help.