I slide into his car, cringing from the mention of the shelled creature with the beady little eyes. Food should never stare back at you. “If you mean the dead kind, I’ll make it. Anything else and you’re on your own.”
“We’ll see.”
“I’m not killing Sebastian.”
“Who’s Sebastian?”
“The Little Mermaid. I thought you said you liked the classics?”
“What if we settle for a pizza? That way, you don’t have to hurt your friends.”
“We always have pizza. You want special, so we’re doing the lobster. Pull in here,” I tell him before he passes by the best grocery store in town. “Do you know what to get?”
“I think so. Turn the heat up if you’re cold.”
My teeth chatter as soon as he opens his door. I watch him hustle into the store, and my eyes naturally end up on his ass. At first, I laugh it off, but then I realize I’ll be seeing his ass every single day of the week—morning, noon, and night. He may be my best friend, but I’m not blind.
He hurries back to the car a few minutes later, and I feel a little guilty for thinking about him the way I was. It’s forgotten once he leans over and sets the bag between my feet. “They better be dead.”
“Funny you should mention that. There’s good news and bad news.”
“Dylan!” I pick my feet up, curling into a ball in the passenger seat. “They’re alive, aren’t they?”
“Technically, yes.”
“But?”
“You don’t have to touch them. I’ll do it.”
“Just drive. This is a car, not an aquarium. They’ll die.”
He drives as recklessly as Keely the entire way back to his apartment. I’m so used to it I only grab the “oh shit” bar once.
While I hang up our coats, he rushes to the kitchen with his feast in a bag. I purposely hang out on the couch, so I don’t have to watch him dump them into the water.
Ignorance is usually bliss, but I should have known he was up to something considering he’s usually like a bull in a china shop with the pots and pans. When I turn around, he’s standing above me with a lobster in his hand, dangling it dangerously close to my body.
“Get that thing away from me, Dylan.”
“It’s the cutest one they had. You can’t be afraid of them forever.”
“Dylan, please,” I beg him, but he doesn’t listen. Instead of going back in the kitchen, he inches the shell closer and closer to me until it’s hovering above my chest and I’m pressed into the back of the couch as far as I can go.
Actual tears well in my eyes, and I hate that I’m about to flip out over something so stupid. It only gets worse when Dylan loses his grip on the slippery shell, dropping the lobster right in my lap. I’m pretty sure I sound like a girl in a horror movie, my shrill scream hurting my own ears.
“Shit, I’m sorry!” Dylan says as he bends down and picks it up.
“You are in so much trouble,” I tell him, but run in the opposite direction toward the bathroom before I can even threaten him with something wild enough to scare him.
I rip my shirt off, running it under the faucet. Once it’s soaking wet, I squirt it with shampoo and scrub. Once it’s a pile of suds, I rinse it off, ringing it out and holding it in my hands. Now a pile of wrinkles and drenched, I stand shirtless next to the sink.
Before I worry about what I’m going to put on over my bra, I sit down to pee. Only I forget where I am and fall right into the toilet. Screaming again, I reach out for a handful of the curtains, hoping to pull myself back up, but the rod snaps off the wall, and the curtains end up on top of me.
Dylan picks this exact moment to come to my rescue. My leggings and panties are around my ankles, my feet are up in the air, and his blue curtains are draped over me. My other hand is latched onto the toilet paper roll where I’ve shredded a layer of paper with my fingernails.
Without knocking, he pushes through the door I never thought to lock. He takes one look at me, freezes, and doesn’t move.
“I fell in,” I tell him like Captain Obvious.
“I thought something happened to you. You scared the shit out of me, Zo.”
“Something did happen—this is definitely something!”
He reaches for the curtains, but if he pulls them off me, he’ll see the homeland. Before his fingers even brush against the fabric, I yell, “Stop!”
“I was just trying to help.”
“All of this because you had to have lobster. I’m disgusting.”
Like he can read my mind, he opens the cabinet door, takes out a super-sized bottle of hand sanitizer, and sets it on the counter. From one germaphobe to another, he understands how close I am to an epic meltdown.
“I’ll wait for you in the kitchen.”
“Okay.”
Just as he’s about to close the door, he peeks his head back inside with a devilish smile on his face. “By the way, nice bra. Pink’s your color.”
“Dylan Turner, get out of here!”
“I’m going, I’m going.”
Twenty minutes later, after I’m done gagging, I slither out of the bathroom and run as fast as I can into Dylan’s room. I open the top drawer in his dresser and pull out one of his T-shirts, slipping it over my head.
Once I’m covered, I head back to the kitchen where Dylan’s waiting for me with an apprehensive smile. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, but I had to borrow a shirt.”
“I see that.”
“Sorry.”
“Nothing to be sorry for. You’re welcome to anything I have, Zoe. You know that.”
“I do, but I was talking about the way I yelled at you. It’s not your fault I came into your house and fell into your toilet. It’s also not your fault I hate the sight of lobster.”
“It’s water in the tank.”
I stare at him, confused. “Don’t you mean, water under the bridge?”
“Same difference.” He slides my phone across the table. “Your phone rang twice, and it’s been buzzing with messages for ten minutes.”
I can tell he’s already glanced at the screen from the slight bite in his voice. As soon as I look for myself, I discover a mixture of messages from both Keely and Chaz. “I knew she wouldn’t give up.”
“Keely?”
“Yeah, Chaz is home. Which means I’m being tortured.”
“Did you make plans with him?”
“No, why would you think that?”
He shrugs and pulls a bag out of the fridge. At first, I don’t realize what it is until I see the logo from my favorite sandwich shop on the front of the bag. “Is that from Checkers?”
Dylan nods as he places a piece of a turkey sub in front of me.
“When did you get this?”
“While you were in the bathroom doing your acrobatics.”
“Oh, shut up. Your toilet almost killed me. What happened to the lobster?”
“You hate lobster, Zoe. Eat the sandwich—especially if you plan on drinking tonight.”
The first bite of the sub comforts me, making all the drama of the last hour seem like nothing. That is until my phone vibrates again.
When I read the words Chaz just texted me, I cringe. He’s still the same animal who drove me crazy over the summer. His slimy words always leave behind a dirty path.
To top it off, Keely’s already halfway to drunk, which means she won’t even know I’m there. Or I’ll be stuck playing mom all night when she can’t keep her head out of the toilet. I’d almost rather eat lobster and fall in again.
“Zo? Why aren’t you eating?”
I show the text to Dylan. Right away, he looks like he wants to punch Chaz in the face. “That guy is an asshole. I don’t want you around him—especially when alcohol is involved.”
“I don’t want to be around him either, but if I don’t go, I’ll never hear the end of it from my sister.”
“She’ll
get over it. She’s probably already half drunk. We can stay here and watch movies instead.”
As much as I want to stay here, I’m not sure if I should. “Are you sure about that? Before long, you’ll be stuck with me every single day of the week. Maybe you should enjoy your alone time while you have it.”
Dylan pushes his chair back far enough to reach the dish of melted butter on the counter. “Stop overthinking it,” he says as he pops a piece of lobster in his mouth. “This move is a good thing for the both of us.”
I stare at his buttery lips a little too long before focusing on the tiny seeds stuck to the roll of my sandwich. Dylan’s my best friend, and it’s never been anything more than for us, but when he does things like that, he makes it hard not to notice.
“I agree with you, Dylan. It’s a good move for us.”
An hour later, I’m finished with dinner and glad I took Dylan up on his offer. We agreed to stop at Keely’s for a little while, and then go back to his place and watch some movies.
After a quick glance around the living room, I’m glad I’m not staying. Chaz’s friends are destroying Keely’s house. She spots me from across the room just as I’m about to bolt. In true twin fashion, she senses my discomfort and hurries through the mass of bodies to get to me.
“It’s about time you got here, Zoe.”
She grabs my hand, pulling me into the kitchen where she has a bottle of every liquor known to man lined up. If she weren’t so cheerful, I’d think she was trying to forget she got dumped this morning. That logic’s thrown out the window when she keeps checking out some tall, dark, and handsome sitting at the kitchen table.
She hands me a shot glass, but I shake my head. “I can’t stay. Dylan’s outside waiting for me.”
“He didn’t want to come in?” For the briefest of seconds, she looks disappointed. But my sister is one of the best actresses I know. What little emotion she let slip through the cracks she locks back up and throws away the key.
“He wasn’t exactly sure he was welcome, but he had other plans anyway.”
I don’t mention his plans are with me. She wouldn’t think anything of it, considering we were friends long before they got together, but I don’t want her to assume I’m choosing him over her now that they’ve broken up.
“Whatever,” she says, downing the first shot. “So, is the rumor true?”
I stare at her, wondering who told her when I know for a fact it wasn’t me or Dylan. “What rumor?” I ask her, hoping she’s talking about something completely different than what I think she is.
The guy she’s had her eye on couldn’t pick a worse time to flirt with her. He kisses her neck and wraps his arms around her waist. Eating up every ounce of affection, she tilts her head back far enough to smile at him.
From the looks of it, this isn’t the first time they’ve explored one another. My suspicion is confirmed when he leans down and kisses her like he’s making some kind of statement. It may not have lasted long, but it definitely packed a punch.
“He’s great, isn’t he?” she asks as her eyes follow him all the way to the keg in the corner of the dining room.
“Yeah, seems great.” He’s nothing like Dylan, that’s for sure. Actually, he’s the complete opposite. Where Dylan’s kind and gentle, he’s a little rough around the edges.
“Anyway,” she says in a rush. “I hear you’re moving in with Dylan.”
Considering I only just found out, I’m not sure who told her, but I’m always honest with my sister, so I tell her, “I am.”
I look Keely in the eye, trying to see if she’s jealous or angry, but there’s not an ounce of anger behind her eyes. If she is bothered, she’s hiding it well. Though, from the way she locks lips with this new guy, something tells me Dylan’s already a distant memory.
“Where’s the house?”
“It’s on Locust. Not too far from the place he has now.”
“That’s good. Should make moving easier.”
“You’re not mad?”
“Why would I be mad? I’m moving back home. You two are staying. It makes sense.”
Keely has never been the practical twin. She’s usually the one pointing out the flaws to every plan I come up with. It’s the only reason why I think she might care a little more than she’s getting on.
It doesn’t keep me from being honest about our intentions. “I’ve been having trouble lining up housing for grad school, but this fell into my lap before I had to lose my mind trying to come up with an alternative.”
“Of course it did. Did you really think Dylan wasn’t going to figure it out for you?”
“What do you mean by that?” I love my sister, but I hate the way she makes it seem like I can’t take care of myself without the help of Dylan Turner.
“All I’m saying is, Dylan wants you. I saw it when we were together, and I see it even more now that we’re not.”
She can’t be serious. “You were together for two weeks. What you see is called a friendship. Nothing more. Nothing less.”
“I can finally say you’re the crazy one, but whatever. It is what it is, and I think you’ll see that for yourself soon enough—especially if you’ll be living together.”
“Is this going to be like the time you dressed up as a genie and tried to predict the future?”
“For your information, Zoe, I was a fortune teller. And I was very good at it.”
“Now who’s the crazy one?”
“Just be out of Dylan’s bed by eleven o’clock tomorrow morning. I’ll swing by and pick you up.”
“For what? I’m not going shopping again. I still can’t sit right after today’s debacle.”
With her hands resting on my shoulders, she looks me square in the face and says, “You may not see it the way I do, but when you two do get around to doing it, I want you to be prepared. Something tells me it’s going to happen sooner rather than later. There are only so many times you can dance around that kind of sexual tension.”
She’d be drowning in satisfaction if she knew I was wearing one of his shirts under my coat. “You’re being ridiculous.”
“I’m not being anything other than honest. That’s why I’m taking you someplace special tomorrow. I’d be a bad sister if I didn’t do this for you.”
“I’m not going to the sex shop again. Once was more than enough.”
“We’ll save that for a rainy day.”
Before I can argue, she’s already with her new guy, rubbing all over him like he’s a scratch-and-sniff sticker.
Considering Keely’s a spontaneous, “fly by the seat of her pants” kind of girl, we could be doing just about anything tomorrow. And that scares the shit out of me.
CHAPTER SIX
Dylan
Zoe’s on my couch wrapped up in the blanket I got her. It was a gift, but she insisted on leaving it here. I didn’t mind because that meant she was planning on coming back, staying long enough to get cold. While I’d love to be the one keeping her warm, I settle for sharing a bowl of popcorn with her when she’ll let me.
“This movie is a crock of shit.”
Laughing, I brush my buttery hands on my jeans. “I thought you loved this movie.”
“Oh, I do. I’m just saying the guy is a damn fool. If he likes her that much, just tell her already. She’s not a mind reader. He doesn’t even act interested but gets upset when she doesn’t notice him.”
I take a long swig of my soda, wishing she would realize what she just said and apply it to the two of us. “Maybe she should pay better attention.”
“Eh, maybe. Women are smart, though. He must be doing something wrong for her not to notice.”
I stare at the TV wondering what it is I’m doing wrong—especially if she thinks it should be a no-brainer when you have feelings for someone else. “I think she senses it but doesn’t believe it because she doesn’t think it would work.”
Our hands touch in the popcorn bowl,
but instead of acting on it like I want to, I playfully knock her hand out of my way. She reaches back in the bowl, grabs a handful of popcorn, and throws it at my face. When it bounces off and lands on the couch, she laughs harder.
“You’ll be sorry for that when I get you back ten times worse.”
“Your threats don’t scare me, Dylan. You’re a teddy bear, not a lion.”
Before she realizes what’s coming, she’s flat on her back as I hover over her on the couch. “How about now, Zo? Still think I’m a teddy bear?”
With wide eyes, her words contradict her expression when she says, “Yes.”
“I’ll have to work on that.” I move away from her before I do something stupid like kissing her. It takes all I have to sit in my spot without touching her.
Still quiet, she nods, barely blinking as she stares at me. Part of me thinks she might have gotten a glimpse of how much I want her. The rest of me is scared shitless she didn’t.
The only thing that comforts me is the fact that we’ll soon be having a lot more nights like this one. All I need her to do is move in and let me take it from there. Because if I have any say, she’ll be mine before New Year’s. When the ball drops in Times Square, it’s my lips she’ll be kissing.
In her own moment of reflection, she asks, “Living together will be like this, right?”
“I’m not sure what you mean, but if you mean watching movies together, we’ll be doing a lot of that.”
“Okay, but what happens when you have a girl here. Or even friends? And will we buy groceries together and plan meals? Or will we wing it by ourselves?”
“First of all, I’m not going to be dating anyone. Secondly, if any of my friends are here, I want you here, too. You already know most of them. As for food, I’m going to do all the cleaning, so you’ll cook for me. I’m so tired of canned soup and microwave meals, Zo. Don’t make me suffer any more than I already have.”
She giggles as her face lights up. “I can do that. We’ll make a meal list each week and then go shopping. Not that you have to shop with me. It’s not like we’re married or anything crazy like that.”
She says it jokingly, but I still hate that she laughs at the idea of the two of us being more than friends. It’s all there. All the pieces have been falling into place for years. We’ve created the border; we just have to sort through all the pieces in the middle. Once we do, we can both finally have the kind of relationship we deserve. And hell if it isn’t going to be fun creating those memories.