“Fine, would you like me to share why I have this grin?” I said, pointing to my wide, painful grin.
“Damn straight I want you to dish. Don’t think of holding back, either.” She folded her hands and wagged her eyebrows suggestively.
I explained my preoccupation, the big empty bed in Rory’s room that continued to taunt me for weeks.
“Rory, the hot, magic-fingered-leprechaun, succeeded in fucking me all of NYC. Central Park, the subway, dark alleys in Little Italy, and my favorite, the Stephen A. Schwarzman Building of the New Your Public Library.” I winked, feeling suddenly heated myself. In one guzzle, I polished off my mimosa and continued.
“One day, he asked me to meet him at two in the afternoon on Fifth Avenue at 42nd street. I was utterly thrilled about our date, but apprehensive as to why he asked me to wear a dress with no panties.”
“Jesus, that’s so hot. Continue—please," she begged, downing the last of her mimosa and waving over the waitress.
“Rory, has a great fondness for landmarks and history. He's both refined and well-educated, which I hadn't at all expected when we first met. However, sexually, his tastes bordered exhibitionism.”
“Sounds like the perfect man, Georgia.”
“He’s a fucking contradiction, and I’m his shiny new obsession. Lucky and unlucky me.”
She slammed the table with her fist. “Lucky. Don’t look a gift-Irishman in the mouth. I will choke you right here at brunch. You know how violent sexually deviant men make me.”
I laughed and added in a serious tone. “Kiera, you know I’m no prude, but I freaked about possibly getting caught, someone watching, or being arrested for a misdemeanor.”
“I’d take a fucking felony.”
Laney and Summer sat after kissing us both hello. “What’s with the glaring, Keira? Did we interrupt something?” Summer asked, glancing at the menu and then at us. I shrugged, deciding to drop the convo for now and revisit it later. Keira, was too busy trying to get more alcohol as quick as possible.
“Why do they even give out these menus? We order the same shit every week,” Laney complained, waving the waitress over. “Let’s order; I’m starved.”
The waitress approached ready to take our order. It wasn’t Karen, who normally had this section and we considered a friend after so many years. The girls handed me their menus except for Keira. I cleared my throat to get her attention. Nothing. Finally, I kicked her under the table.
“Ow.” She peeked around the menu. Laney and Summer were already in hysterics. “What the hell’s so funny?” she asked, completely serious.
Keira sported a thick lensed pair of eyeglasses that definitely weren’t hers. Utterly ridiculous. I couldn’t hold back my laughter from echoing in the room. The lenses were as thick as an old fashioned coke bottle with equally thick black frames.
“Seriously? Where did you even get those?” I managed to say between blotting the tears that now fell down my cheeks.
“I borrowed them from my house manager, Roberto. Am I the only one who’s experiencing loss of vision?” she said, completely somber. We laughed harder. “Somehow, the three of you find this hilarious?” She took them off to clean with her napkin. Returning them to her face, she addressed Karen. “We’ll have four eggs benedicts, well-done home fries, lots and lots of bacon, and a few dozen patron margaritas.”
Karen nodded, never writing it down, but asked, “How much bacon would you consider lots and lots?”
The table silenced and Keira eyes widened. She must be a vegetarian, or worse a—vegan. “Were you hired to ration the bacon? Because I swear to fuck that’s what’s going on.” Keira’s voice held no humor. Karen looked around, hoping this was a joke. It was not. We all had a serious bacon addiction, but Keira lived for it. Poor Karen. She hadn’t a clue the can of ham she opened up.
“Bring the fucking pig, that’s how much. Sprinkle that shit like fairy dust. One dish with heaps. Do not come back here with four measly strips. I will hurt you,” she threatened, her eyes now twitching.
We continued to laugh as Karen took off running to place our order. It was just an average Sunday in Manhattan to anyone else. However, there was nothing average about the girls or friendship that surrounded this table. We not only celebrated our quirks, but deeply cherished them. And these bunch of weirdos were my tribe.
THE END
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Gina Whitney is the author of six novels, Blood Ties, Beautiful Lies, Saving Abel, Forgiving Gia, Avenging Us, and Luca. In December 2015, she partnered with Leddy Harper to release The Power of a Woman. She is known for her themes of erotica wrapped around soul-searing passion that bring her readers into the story with a range of emotions.
Gina resides in Massapequa, NY with her two beautiful boys. You can usually find her typing furiously while shouting obscenities over her latest WIP or reading a book that sends her heart racing. She's pathologically obsessed with anything to do with royals, Games of Thrones, Billions, Vampire Diaries, Homeland, SOA, The Vikings and The Originals. If you'd like to chat, hit her up on Facebook or Twitter.
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From A Distance
Gia Riley
Copyright © 2016 by Gia Riley
All Rights Reserved
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded, or distributed via the Internet without the publisher’s permission and is in violation of the International copyright law.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.
SYNOPSIS
A girl who’s finally ready to love.
A guy who only wants one girl.
Sounds like a match made in heaven, right?
Wrong.
Getting your dream girl to notice you isn’t always easy—especially when her twin sister is encouraging her to hook up with all the wrong people
Dylan Tuner can’t stand by and watch it happen any longer. He’s tired of loving Zoe Allen from a distance.
Join Dylan and Zoe on this hilarious quest toward finding true love. Can Dylan get his best friend to fall for him? Or does Zoe have plans of her own already?
This romantic comedy novella is the prequel to Say When, the full-length follow-up to Dylan and Zoe’s adventures in love.
CHAPTER ONE
Zoe
“I’m not going in there,” I tell Keely for the third time in less than a minute. 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 shakes her head and gets out of the car, taking all the heat with her. I wait a second before I follow her, hoping she’s going to let me sit here in peace. But instead of making a beeline to the door, she rounds the hood of her car toward my side. Like I’m about to be abducted by aliens, I slide the lock into place and crouch lower in my seat.
“Open the door, Zoe.”
It’s no secret I usually let her have her way. I’ve always been the
agreeable twin—the one who follows the rules, gets straight A’s, picks up Keely’s slack so she doesn’t get in trouble. I’m the reliable one while she flies by the seat of her pants through every aspect of life.
For a long time, I wondered why she got to have all the fun. Though I mostly wondered why I always cared so much when she didn’t. Everyone assumes twins have this sixth sense or are one person in two bodies. We’re the exception to the rule: polar opposites with completely different agendas.
We can’t even live together without killing each other. While I’d rather avoid confrontation than deal with an argument that could last for days, Keely’s the queen of drama. It’s the reason I ended up living in the dorms after moving out of our apartment sophomore year. Turns out, I’d rather room with a bunch of freshmen than share space with my other half.
And that’s what Keely and I do best—we bicker like a couple of old married people. Though we’ve spent enough time fighting to last a lifetime, I’ve learned to pick and choose my battles, because with Keely, there’s a ton of small stuff to argue about. I consider this moment one of the larger ones.
“Zoe, come on!”
I shake my head, ignoring her plea. It’s too cold for her to stand there much longer, and I’m positive she’s about to give up on me when she points the key fob at the car, unlocking the door on her own. I hadn’t considered that.
Reaching inside, she pulls me by my arm until I practically tumble onto the gravel. “You can’t make me go inside. Just go get what you came for.”
“You’re being a baby. This is what adults do.”
“No, this is what people who are freaky between the sheets do. I sleep. What do you even need anyway?”
“I won’t know until I get in there and look around, but it has to be perfect. Dylan’s making me work for it.”
“It’s called dating, Keely. You know, getting to know someone before you hop into bed and screw their brains out. The concept’s really not that far-fetched.”
“Maybe for you, but Dylan’s the only guy who hasn’t wanted to throw me in bed as fast as he can. It makes no sense. Not because I’m easy, but because I want him to want me.”
“Buying X-rated stuff is going to make him want you more?”
“It might. If not, at least I can say I tried. That’s more than you can say for yourself. You don’t even date.”
“My dating history has nothing to do with dildos and sleazy outfits. Look at that one hanging in the window. Is that the front or the back?”
“I think it’s the same on both sides.”
“Exactly! There’s no way leather should ever have the right of way, if you get what I’m saying.”
“Zoe, you’re such a child. It’s meant to bring out a dominant, sexual side. It’s not meant to wear to work or church.”
“I’m pretty sure you’d spontaneously combust if you wore that to church. Do you remember those little bracelets we all wore around our wrists as kids? Well, this is not what Jesus would do.”
“Ohmigod,” she whispers, frustrated. “Let’s leave the Lord out of this.”
If He gets a pass, so should I. The thought of Keely doing anything like this with my best friend makes me nauseous. There are some things in life you can’t forget once you see them with your own two eyes. My Dylan is too good for any of this.
“Please, Zoe. It’s weird going inside all 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 to be a pain in the ass.”
“That makes no sense, but if I go inside, will you not talk about what you’re buying? Or look me in the eye while buying it?”
“This bothers you that much?”
“It’s Dylan, Keely. He’s been my best friend since high school. Yes, we’re close, but we don’t talk about sex. And I really don’t want a mental picture of him having sex with other girls—especially my sister.”
“You do realize we’re identical. If he’s pictured me naked, he’s almost picturing you naked, too.”
“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.”
“Fine, it’s a deal. I’ll be in and out 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 with the most revealing lace and pleather getups I’ve ever seen. I could never imagine dressing up in any of it without laughing. It’s like an advertisement for slutty Halloween blow-up dolls.
Where I’m offended, Keely’s eyes light up when she grabs a few tops off the rack. “Do you like these?”
“You’re talking to me. There is to be no talking.”
“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 completely turned off by them. They’re just… meh. “I guess it depends on what the bottoms look like.”
“There are no bottoms. This is like a bedroom dress.”
“It doesn’t even cover your vagina or your ass. Where’s the mystery?”
She rolls her eyes and keeps the pink one, putting the other two back on the rack. “I don’t know why I bothered asking.”
“My point exactly. Can we go home now?”
“Not yet, I still need some panties.”
“Now you want to cover it back up. Why not wear a bra and underwear? Save the money.”
“They’re not that kind of panties, Zoe. These taste better.”
She doesn’t make sense until we round the corner and are standing before a shelf of sex snacks. It’s like a vending machine for the horny. “You’ve got to be kidding me. You’re into this shit?”
Keely chews on the tip of her acrylic nail as she tries to decide which flavor underwear Dylan might want to snack on. My stomach turns at the thought.
Finally, she picks one up, turning it over to the backside. “Sorry to break it to you, but I don’t think they print the calorie contents on the package. I can’t imagine too many guys care.”
“That’s not what I was doing.”
It totally was, but without asking my opinion this time, she chooses strawberry, another fact I could have done without. “What’s next? Cheese curl bra?”
“If I wasn’t scared to be here alone, I’d tell you to go wait in the car.”
“What are you so afraid of? You wanted to come here, not me.” I answer my own question because, the farther back we walk, the more erotic the selection becomes. Whips, chains, handcuffs, and lube line the shelves around us.
God, why is there so much lube?
She scans the row of bottles until she lands on one the flavor of strawberry shortcake.
“I see you’re going with the whole berry theme.”
“It’s my favorite.”
“I guess now would be a bad time to tell you Dylan’s allergic to strawberries.”
She whips her head in my direction, her eyes wide. “Ohmigod, is he?”
“No, but that was fun watching you freak out. Maybe you’d know that already if you spent more time talking to your boyfriend instead of trying to get him naked.”
“If we spent more time talking, he’d 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 like that, but I’m pretty sure she’d agree with me.
School isn’t easy for her like it is for me. In fact, she struggled all the way to middle school until Mrs. Ramos discovered she was dyslexic during a
Spanish review session. After that, it didn’t get easier for her, despite having the tools to work through it. Kids can be cruel and, even though she had an explanation as to why school was so hard for her, she only felt worse about herself because she wasn’t perfect. But instead of focusing on turning her grades around, she relied on being pretty to get through school.
She’s come a long way since high school and three years of college, even realizing pretty can only take you so far in life. It doesn’t mean she’s stopped caring about guys, though. She’s even more boy-crazy than she was back then—and with Dylan, it’s worse. Probably because of me.
“You only know so much about Dylan because you’ve always had this weird obsession with one another.”
I ignore her because 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 are the exception to every rule. “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 tilting my head to try to figure out what exactly it is I’m looking at.
“That’s a cock ring,” she announces a little too loudly.
I look around 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. Of course, Keely has to push all the buttons, smiling as she holds a pink 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. After all, the valedictorian of Central High didn’t have time to jump from bed to bed any more than she does now. I was busy mapping out my future, preparing for a degree in pre-med. Now that I’m so close to graduation, I’ve already started preparing for grad school.