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I'll Make You Mine by Gia Riley (1)

Zoe

“I’m not going inside,” I tell Keely for the third time. When I accepted a ride home from class, I didn’t expect to end up at an adult store.

Laughing at me like she always does, she gets out of the car, taking all the heat with her. I wait, hoping she’ll let me sit here in peace. But instead of making a beeline to the door, she rounds the hood of the car toward my side. Like aliens are about to abduct me, I slide the lock into place and crouch lower in my seat.

“Open the door, Zoe,” she says with a hint of amusement, but mostly annoyance.

If we were anyplace else, I’d let her have her way. I’ve always been the agreeable twin—the one who follows the rules, gets straight A’s, and picks up Keely’s slack so she doesn’t get in trouble. I’m reliable while she flies by the seat of her pants through every aspect of life.

Why does she have all the fun?

Because we’re opposites with different agendas.

We can’t even live together without killing each other. While I’d rather avoid confrontation than deal with an argument, Keely’s the queen of drama. That’s the reason I ended up living in the dorms after moving out of our apartment sophomore year. Turns out, it’s easier to room with a bunch of freshmen than share space with my other half.

“Zoe, come on!”

I shake my head, ignoring her plea. It’s too cold for her to stand out there much longer, and I’m positive she’s about to give up on me. Until she points the key fob at the car, unlocking the door on her own. I hadn’t considered that.

She pulls me by the arm until I almost tumble onto the gravel. “You can’t make me go inside.” I fight and kick like a child having a very public tantrum. “Just go get what you came for.”

“You’re being a baby. This is what adults do.”

“Not me. What do you need, anyway?”

“I’ll figure it out as I browse, but it has to be perfect. Dylan’s making me work for it.”

A tiny piece of me dies inside when she says his name. My best friend’s name. “It’s called dating, Keely. You know, learning about a person before you screw their brains out. The concept’s not that far-fetched.”

“For you it’s not, but Dylan’s the only guy who hasn’t wanted to throw me in bed as fast as he can. It makes no sense. Why doesn’t he want me?”

Since when is being treated with respect, bad?

My sister has her mind made up, and when she’s dead set on something, she gets her way. But I admire Dylan for not falling into her trap. Still, I can’t figure out her logic. “And you think buying X-rated stuff will make Dylan want you more?”

“It might,” she says with a casual shrug. “If not, at least I tried. More than you can say. You don’t even date. You get weird and blush about boys.”

“I do not.” I do. “Keely, my dating history may have nothing to do with dildos and sleazy outfits, but look at the trashy dress hanging in the window. Is that the back or the front?”

She glances over her shoulder and inspects the small scrap of fabric. “It’s the same on both sides.”

“Exactly! Leather should never have the right of way.”

She’s had it with me. “Zoe, the dress brings out a dominant, sexual side. It’s not for work or church.”

“I’m sure you’d spontaneously combust if you wore that to church. Do you remember those little bracelets we clasped around our wrists as kids? Well, that’s not what Jesus would do.”

“Ohmigod,” she whispers, tipping her head back and inhaling a deep breath of freezing winter air. “Can we agree to leave the Lord out of this?”

If He gets a pass, so should I. Because Keely sexing with my best friend makes me nauseous. Certain things in life you can’t forget once you’ve seen them. And my Dylan is too good for this. He has standards and values. Ones that don’t require pleather or handcuffs.

“Please, Zoe. It’s weird going inside by myself. Can’t I play the ‘I need my twin’ card just this once?”

“You mean you don’t magically morph into your dominant bedroom personality once you walk through the doors?”

“Now you’re just being a pain in the ass because you can.”

“That makes no sense, but if I go inside, you can’t talk about what you’re buying. And you will promise not to glance in my direction while buying it. Okay?”

“This bothers you that much?”

“It’s Dylan, Keely. He’s been my best friend since ninth grade. Yes, we’re close, but we don’t talk about sex. And I don’t want a mental picture of him having sex with other people—especially my sister.”

She considers it for a second, and then says, “You realize we’re identical. If he’s pictured me naked, he’s practically picturing you naked, too.”

I never thought about it that way. With the way my pulse is racing, I’m not sure I want to either. “That’s disgusting. We are two very different people.”

“For once, I agree with you, Zoe. Now, come on. You’re wasting precious study time.”

“You have ten minutes. Don’t take forever.”

An evil grin stretches from one dimple to the other and I’ve made a deal with the devil. “I give you my word,” she says. “I’ll be done in no time.”

“I’ve heard that before,” I mumble under my breath as I follow Keely through the gates of hell.

Two steps inside and my eyes are assaulted by the most revealing red lace get-up I’ve ever seen. I can’t imagine wearing any of this stuff without laughing. Not unless I was a vampire or a porn star in my spare time.

Keely’s eyes light up when she grabs a few tube tops off the rack. Like the dress in the window, the front’s the same as the back.

“Do you like these?” she questions as she holds a bright pink top up in the air.

“You’re talking. There’s no talking,” I remind her.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Zoe. I’m asking you a simple yes or no question.”

I glance at the hangers in her hand, shrugging because I’m neither impressed nor turned off by tube tops. They’re just . . . meh. “I guess it depends what bottoms you wear with it.”

Blinking, she’s at a loss for words. “You don’t wear bottoms with a dress, Zoe. This is a sexy nightie.”

Since when are tube tops dresses? “But there’s no way that scrap of fabric will cover all that needs covering. Where’s the mystery?”

“Now you sound like Grandma,” she says with a laugh. “She said you’re an old soul. The key word being old.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask her. “We’re the same age.”

“Actually, you’re three minutes older than I am.” She hangs the dresses back on the rack and keeps the pink.

“Can we go home now?”

“Not yet, I still need panties.”

I stare at the tiny dress in her hands. She makes no sense. “If you’re letting it all hang out in that thing, why are you trying to cover it back up with panties? Why not nix the dress, wear a bra and underwear you already own, and save yourself some money?”

“They’re not those kind of panties, Zoe. These taste better.”

I don’t understand what she means until we round the corner and come to a shelf of sex snacks. It’s a vending machine for the horny. “You’ve got to be kidding me. You’re into this stuff?”

Keely chews on the tip of her acrylic nail as she tries to decide which flavor underwear Dylan might want to feast upon. My stomach churns at the thought of him gnawing waxy fruit leather off her body.

She picks a pair, turning the package over to the backside.

“Sorry to break it to you, but I don’t think they print the caloric contents on the package. I can’t imagine too many guys care.”

“That’s not what I was doing,” she says with aggravation.

It was, but without asking my opinion this time, she chooses strawberry, another fact I could have done without. “What’s next, a cheese curl bra?”

“Zoe, for someone who didn’t want to talk, you’re doing a lot of it. If I wasn’t scared to be here alone, I’d tell you to wait in the car.”

“What are you so afraid of? You wanted to come here, not me.”

I answer my own question, because the further back we walk, the more erotic the selection becomes. Whips, chains, handcuffs, and lube line the surrounding shelves.

God, why is there so much lube?

She scans the rows of bottles until she lands on strawberry shortcake. “I see you’re going with the whole berry theme.”

“It’s my favorite.”

“Then I guess now would be a bad time to tell you Dylan’s allergic to strawberries.”

With wide eyes she gasps, “Ohmigod, is he?”

“No, but it was fun watching you freak out. You’d know his history if you spent more time talking to your boyfriend instead of trying to get him naked.”

“If we spend any more time talking, he’ll practically be dating you.”

As much as I hate to admit it, she has a point. Keely never gets the guys because of her brains. She gets them because she’s easy. It’s not nice to talk about your own sister that way, but she’d agree with me. The girl craves physical interaction, and she’s not afraid to own it. She’s never scared like I am.

Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to be that open with my body. Because no matter how many times her heart gets stomped on, she keeps going back for more. That must mean physical is worth it—very worth it.

But while dating is her top priority, I have school. School’s always come harder to Keely than it does for me. In fact, she struggled all the way to middle school until Mrs. Ramos discovered she was dyslexic during a Spanish review session. She was given the tools to manage her disability, but she didn’t cope well. She felt worse about herself because the tutoring meant she wasn’t perfect. Instead of focusing on turning her grades around, she relied on her looks to renew her self-esteem.

Keely’s come a long way since then, but she’s even more boy-crazy than ever. I didn’t have a problem accepting it until she chose Dylan. He’s all I have, the only person I trust enough to consider an actual friend. I’ve always been a loner.

“You’re positive he’s not allergic to strawberries?” she asks before we leave the lube on the shelf where it belongs.

“Positive.” He eats strawberry frozen yogurt at least once a week. That’s our thing.

If I was stronger, I’d tell her how much her relationship bothers me. But that would lead to questions about my own feelings, and that can’t happen.

I’ve tried to explain my relationship with Dylan a million times. It doesn’t matter how innocent it is; she still doesn’t believe it’s possible for a guy and a girl to be friends without having sex. However, we’re the exception. Other than innocent hand holding and dancing, we’ve never crossed the line. I’m glad, because if that were to happen, it could ruin our friendship. I’d lose the one person who matters, and I can’t risk that. “Are you almost done?”

“Yes, just one more thing.”

While she browses at the end of the aisle, I glance at the shelves. A few times I crane my neck to figure out what I’m looking at.

“That’s a cock ring,” she announces loudly.

I check to see if anyone heard her, but we’re the only fools in this place on a Friday morning. “Thanks.”

From there, we stumble upon a penis pileup in aisle ten. From purple to pink to black, they have every color of the rainbow. Keely has to push every single button, smiling as she holds a purple sparkly vibrator in the air. “This one would rock your world, Zo. You should get it.”

She’s well aware I’ve never had sex. I may be one of the few twenty-one-year-old virgins on campus, but other than Dylan, there’s never been a guy in my life. I’ve never had time to date. I’m too busy mapping out my future, preparing for a degree in pre-med. I’m so close to graduating college, and I’m preparing for grad school. School makes my world go round, it gives me a purpose—something I’ve never found in another human being.

“What about this one?” she says with a smile. “I’ll buy it for you. It’s a good place to start your sexual adventures.”

“I’m good, but thanks anyway, Keely.”

She pouts and sets the vibrator back on the shelf without a fight. I should have known that was the easy part. “Zoe, I’ve been thinking,” she says.

“Can we check out before you lay it on me?”

Shaking her head, she says, “No, because you’ll try to walk home or get out of the car. For once, I want you to listen—to hear me.”

“I’m listening. The whole store is listening.”

“We’re the only ones in here, Zo.”

“This place is making me itch.”

For fun, she makes me hold her slutty wear and smiles when I squirm. “You’re a senior in college. Think about that—all the guys you have at your disposal. But you haven’t given a single one a shot, and I know for a fact a couple guys have shown interest.”

“Nobody’s ever asked me out, Keely.” Not that I’ve given anyone a chance. Unless I’m paired with a guy for a project, I keep to myself or spend my free time with Dylan. It’s easier that way. I’m not good with people like my sister is. She’s never awkward, and she never has to be someone she’s not. She just is.

“Nobody’s asked you out because you brush them off before they have a chance. Yes, this is college, and this is where we’re supposed to learn our craft that will keep us from being unemployed, just like Dad has told us a million times. College is also a once in a lifetime experience. A period of time you’ll never get to do over again—and you’ve missed out on nearly all the parties, all the guys, and most of the fun.”

I watch Jeopardy at seven every night. On Mondays I go to the study session in the library for my advanced calculus class. Wednesdays I spend tutoring when needed. I get around campus, just not any frat houses or shady basements. “I’ve had fun.”

“Bullshit. You study until your nerdy meter is full enough and then you go to bed. Face it, you’re boring, Zoe. And you have to stop worrying about pleasing Dad. He’ll be okay with you going out as long as you keep your grades up. Look at me, I live it up and he never says a word.”

He never says a word because he’s too busy to notice. Ever since Mom died, he’s put his energy into his practice. Someday he expects me to take over and follow in his footsteps. If I get distracted, that’ll put his plans in jeopardy. He’s already lost too much to let that happen.

“So what?” I tell her. “Maybe my dream job means more than getting drunk and making out.”

“But you’re missing the point. Drunkenness and making out are a rite of passage. My grades might never be as good as yours, but where you have book smarts, I have street smarts. They’re both valuable—and someday when you’re walking around in that drab lab coat like Dad, you’ll be sorry you didn’t take more chances when you could.”

“My life is going well. Why fix what isn’t broken?”

“Zoe, on paper it has, but I figured you’d disagree with me. That’s why I’ve put a foolproof plan in place.”

Here we go.

This is how it always starts. One of her brilliant ideas at my expense. “Your plans always end up with me embarrassing myself. I love you, Keely, but I’m not interested.”

“This one’s different. It won’t end up with you on a roof, underdressed, or throwing up. I’ve apologized for all those things.”

Apologies don’t erase them from my memory. I’m a perfectionist and perfectionists don’t like to screw up. But I’m also a glutton for punishment, and I need to find out this plan of hers. “How’s this plan different from the others?”

Her eyes light up when I give her a chance. “Unless you can find him on your own, which I’ll give you a little time to do, I have someone for you to date.”

“You’ve lost your mind. There’s not a single person you socialize with that I’d be interested in—no offense.”

“None taken,” she says as she holds up her hand. “Let me clarify, Zo. I’m not looking for the guy you’ll marry. I’m searching for the one who will toss you around in bed and break your heart.”

I’ve never come close to love. Not yet anyway. When I do find someone, I don’t want to play games. I want to give him my heart and pray he takes care of it. “Why on earth would you want someone to break my heart? I’ve never even been in love before.”

“Because you’ll have a blast making memories and when the guy comes along, it’ll be that much better. It’ll be perfect.”

“Perfection doesn’t exist. I’m much more comfortable with reasonable flaws.”

She wraps her arm around my shoulders and eases me down the aisle toward the cash register. “What’s the saying? You have to kiss a few frogs before you meet your prince?”

“I don’t have time to be a slut, Keely. My schedule is killer. You know that.” Distractions lead to problems. And problems lead to destruction. I’m not about to throw away my success just because my sister sees my life playing out differently.

“Zoe, next year you’ll still be here because you picked the one profession that makes you stay in school most of your life. But I won’t be here. For the first time in our lives, we won’t be living in the same town.”

I’ve spent a lot of time wondering what it’ll be like without my sister. It’s really scary. Too scary. She drives me nuts most of the time, but she’s always been close. When I need her, she’s a couple blocks away, willing to pull me out of my funk.

“You’ll make an awesome teacher, Keely. You’ll be able to spot the kids who are struggling better than any teacher in the school. And you’ll find another cool apartment and make it your own. You don’t need me. I always weigh you down with my practicality.”

Once she’s home doing her own thing, it’ll just be me and my thoughts. Lists that pile up when I can’t make a decision. And then there’s Mom.

“There was never any doubt that I’ll be awesome, I’m just saying you need to rethink this dream plan of yours. It’s not as ideal as you think. Maybe a husband and kids isn’t so glamorous now, but deep down, you’re a family person. You want what Mom and Dad had,” she says with tears glistening in her eyes. It’s been almost five years, but it still seems like yesterday.

I’d like to have a family—even a couple kids. It’s the whole process of dating that weirds me out. The only guy I’m comfortable with is Dylan—and we do none of the things that would create a family. “So if I agree to try dating, or at least go out with a guy one time, you’ll back off and let me do my thing? Because I’m not against getting married someday. I have to graduate from med school first. That’s all.”

“Zo, I’m encouraging you to pay attention to guys so life doesn’t pass you by. Look at Dad, he spends all his time in his office or the hospital. The only human interaction he gets these days involves surgery. That’ll be you if you’re not careful. So yes, I want you to meet boys and cross lines. Live a little while you can.”

I can’t believe I’m doing this, but I’d do just about anything for my sister. Plus, I see how lonely Dad is without Mom. I don’t want to spend my entire life wondering what could have been. “I’ll try,” I tell her. “School has to remain a priority.”

“Thank you, Zo. You may think I don’t care, but I do. I worry about you a lot.” She dumps her items of seduction on the conveyor belt and wraps her arms around me. “Make a solid effort. Starting with purchasing one item from this store.”

I’m standing next to a rack of condoms, so I grab the first box I see and hold it up. “Ribbed for her pleasure. Will that work?”

I’ve beat her at her own game, and she nods. “They’ll do.”

The drive back to the dorms is quieter than I expected. But once Keely pulls in front of my residence hall, she’s quick to shove the bag of condoms in my hands. “Can’t forget those. I’m so excited for your quest.”

“I’m not,” I grumble as I climb out of the car with my condoms shielded against my body. I’d die if anyone saw what I have in my hands.

As I trudge up each step, I think about the outfit Keely bought for her sexcapades with Dylan. She can’t expect me to act like that—that’s not who I am.

Halfway down the hall, I spot Dylan leaning against my door. Like always, he gives me one of his lopsided smiles that does stupid things to my insides. He looks a little hurt when he spots the bag in my hand. “I would have driven you to the store, Zoe. It’s too cold for you to be walking.”

Cringing, I unlock the door as fast as I can. I can’t have this conversation, let alone any conversation, while holding a box of condoms. It’s wrong on so many levels.

Only it doesn’t get any easier once I stash the bag in my closet. All I can think about is him having sex with my sister. That’s enough to make my chest ache. “I can’t hang out right now. I have to take a shower.”

Dylan stuffs his phone in his pocket and narrows his eyes. “Why are you acting weird?”

I run through a couple lies in my head that he’d believe without question, but I don’t lie to Dylan—ever. He’s the one person in my life I care about, and I’m not going to let Keely’s opinions about my life ruin it. “It’s nothing.”

“Zo, whatever it is, you can tell me.” When I hesitate, he lifts my chin with his thumb. “Since when don’t we tell each other everything?”

I suck at keeping secrets, so before I lose the nerve, I let it out. “Keely wants to have sex with you and couldn’t figure out what’s holding you back. She took me to the adult store on Poplar Street. I’m scarred for life now that I saw everything she bought for the two of you, but those are the facts. She’ll kill me for ruining her surprise, so can you keep this between the two of us? Please.”

Dylan listens as I ramble, but his reaction isn’t what I was expecting. Instead of laughing at the way sex makes me cringe, all I get is a barely noticeable nod.

“Dylan?”

He drops his hand to his side and takes a step back. “Yeah, sorry. You caught me off guard.”

“I’m not offended if you want to leave. Sex with Keely is way more appealing than talking with me.” But deep down, I still want him to pick his best friend over his girlfriend.

Dylan distracts himself with the candy dish on my desk, rooting around for a yellow gummy bear, because they’re my least favorite. “I need to leave, but it has nothing to do with Keely.” Still not making eye contact, he pops two gummy bears in his mouth and says, “I’ll see you after class, okay?”

“Okay.” But is it okay? I’m not okay with what they might do. Not at all. “Dylan.”

He glances over his shoulder, meeting my eyes. “Yeah?”

Dylan doesn’t look like a guy who’s about to get his world rocked. He looks like a guy with a lot on his mind. “Does Keely make you happy?”

You make me happy, Zoe.”

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