How to Choose a Guy in 10 Days: Chick Flick Club #1

by Lila Monroe

  I take a screen shot of Zach’s text and add it to the conversation with Zoey and Eve.

  ‘Movie night CANCELLED!’ Zoey types immediately.

  ‘No,’ I send. ‘Plans with you guys…”

  ‘GO! ‘Eve sends. ‘Bigfoot wants to play, you go play!!!

  “I love you,” I send and then open Zach’s text and tell him I’m in.

  * * *

  When he said ‘play’, I didn’t realize he meant it literally.

  Since we’re taking it slow, I shouldn’t be surprised that his idea of playing isn’t ‘find the unicorn’.

  Not that I really mind. Because what he did mean was an escape room adventure with him and his friends. Of all the things we could do clothed and in public, this seems like the most fun.

  When I arrive at a sketchy address, they’re out front. I don’t even have a chance to say hi before Zach plants a kiss on me.

  And then another.

  Aaaand another. Somewhere, I hear Brody whooping.

  I pull back, flushing. “Not that I object, but this is a major PDA.”

  “I just wanted to say hi,” he grins.

  “Something tells me you don’t greet Brody like that.”

  “No,” he says when he bends to nip at my lip. “Martin sometimes, but not Brody. He’s a bad kisser.”

  I laugh and push him away, then greet the others before it’s time to go in. “Does someone want to tell me how this works?” I ask, as we’re made to sign liability waivers, and then shown to a long hallway. Apparently, our theme is ‘Murder Motel,’ and I’m hoping it’s not as creepy as it sounds.

  “You haven’t played?” Julie and Martin light up. “Oh my god, it’s so much fun,” Julie adds, linking her arm through mine. “Just as long as you don’t mind the guys acting like total know-it-alls.”

  “When don’t they?” I joke, and she laughs.

  Sure enough, the guys speed ahead, peppering the admin guy about record times, and if there are prizes, while Julie and I hang back.

  “So …” she drops her voice meaningfully. “You and Zach, huh?”

  The million-dollar question. I bite my lip, unsure how to answer.

  She laughs. “Mind your own business, Julie,” she says. “I get it.”

  “No,” I say quickly, not wanting her to think I’m holding out. “It’s … I just don’t know where it’s going. He’s still getting over his marriage, and we’re getting to know each other.”

  Total cop-out.

  Julie smiles. “Well, for what it’s worth, we’re glad he’s back to his old self. Having fun. Grooming. Thank you for all that.”

  “I can’t take credit,” I protest.

  “We’ll have to agree to disagree,” she laughs, before Martin yells back down the hall.

  “Hurry up! We’re ready to get started here.”

  “OK, OK,” Julie and I go join them. Martin counts off to the admin guy, deadly serious.

  “Three, two one … GO!”

  We hustle inside, and the door closes behind us. Someone flips the lights on, and—

  “Eww!” I cry. Because it turns out that ‘Murder Motel’ is creepy as fuck.

  The walls are daubed in blood-like messages, there’s an empty bed, some handcuffs, and a weird room with what looks like a body on an examining table.

  “You do this for fun?” I ask, but the others are already racing around the room, finding lock-boxes that will apparently get us out of here.

  “Don’t worry.” Zach’s arms come around me, and I sway back against him. “I’ll protect you.”

  “Never mind protecting,” I tell him, already scanning the room. I think I see some writing hidden in the cracked mirror frame, and is that…? Yup, a key balanced on the ledge. “We’re going to crush this thing!”

  * * *

  By the time we solve the room—with a few minutes to spare—my abs are killing me from laughing. I can’t remember the last time I had so much fun. Part of it is the game, part of it is Zach’s friends, but mostly it’s him. He’s fun and competitive and though we’re busy solving riddles, he still manages to find moments to steal a kiss.

  Screw being cautious. I’m getting on that unicorn and am going to ride it over the rainbow into Orgasm-land.

  “Hey,” I murmur softly, as we spill out onto the street. The others are checking their phones to find a bar nearby, but all I can think about is getting Zach alone.

  Alone, and naked.

  I lean in closer. “Want to come back to mine and … hang?” I suggest.

  Zach’s eyebrows shoot up. “Hell yes.”

  “Uh, Zach,” Martin interrupts. “When you’re done eating Gemma’s face, we’re going to grab a pizza.”

  Zach doesn’t take his eyes off me. “I think Gemma and I are going to get Chinese takeout.”

  “I could go for some Chinese,” Brody says. Until Julie smacks him and he clues in. “Oh, I mean yuck Chinese—dumplings are the worst! I’m so into pizza.”

  Yeah, they’re not buying it either.

  We say our goodbyes and head to Zach’s Jeep for the agonizingly long drive back to our building. My anticipation is rising, and I’ve got butterflies like crazy. After all the hot, sweaty build-up, I’m actually nervous to make the leap into … whatever is waiting for us.

  Then I glance over at Zach and catch his eye, shadowed in the dark of the Jeep.

  My stomach twists. To hell with nerves, this is happening.

  Back at our building—or should I say, Zach’s building—we finally make it up to my apartment. I unlock, and toss my keys onto the table, trying to act causal. “Do you want a drink?” I ask. “I have teas … water … maybe some beer in the fridge.”

  “I want you.”

  Zach’s answer makes me stop dead. Holy shit. He moves towards me, backing me up against the wall as he claims my mouth in a slow, scorching kiss.

  Is it possible for my clothes to melt clean off my body? Because damn, I feel practically naked by the time he comes up for air.

  “Bedroom?” he murmurs, kissing his way down my neck.

  “Can’t miss it,” I reply breathlessly, wrapping my arms around him. Somehow, we stumble-walk backwards, until we hit the edge of my bed. We lock eyes for a moment and it’s like a mind-meld and we’re both thinking the same things: ‘this is so happening’ and ‘about fucking time’.

  Kiss me, I think.

  The mind-meld works because Zach obliges, pressing into me, stroking my tongue with his in a preview of what’s to come. And a memory of what he can do.

  More.

  My hands snake under his shirt to the dip at the base of his spine, reaching under his waistband to his warm skin. They aren’t there long. I want to feel all of him, so I impatiently tug his shirt over his head, and he grabs the hem of my blouse, returning the favor.

  “Fuck, Gemma,” he groans, taking in the sight of my best lacy black bra, that I definitely wore for the occasion,. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.”

  “Same,” I gulp, feeling light-headed. “Ever since camp ...”

  His smile turns satisfied. “Liked that, did you?”

  “’Like’ isn’t the right word,” I manage, reaching for his belt.

  I strip off his pants and underwear, and sit back on the bed, my face now level with his waist.

  And other, pressing assets.

  Hello.

  I drop a kiss to the indent of his hip … then move lower.

  “Gemma,” he lets out a groan, his hands coming to twine in my hair. I explore him thoroughly, licking and teasing at his hard length, until he gently pulls me away from his body “Fuck. This is not going to last long if you keep that up.”

  “I don’t know,” I grin, teasing him with another lick. “You seem to be keeping up all on your own.”

  Zach’s stomach rumbles with laughter. Then he’s yanking me up, pushing me back on the bed and stripping off my jeans, and my panties with them. “A matching set, huh?” he grins, as I reach t
o unfasten my bra.

  “That’s me,” I laugh, tossing it aside. “Fashion through and through.”

  “I like.” He dips his head, kissing my bare breasts and teasing my nipples until I’m gasping. “And I like you without them, too.”

  “Uh huh.” I manage a vague moan, as he slips a hand between my legs. Fuck, I’m wet and ready for him, and he strokes me gently, slipping one finger inside. “Zach …” I claw at his shoulders. “Nightstand. Condoms.”

  “Yes ma’am.”

  Opening the top drawer, he pulls one out and I reach for it. He shakes his head as he kneels on the bed. “You touch me right now and we won’t need this condom.”

  A laugh escapes me.

  He’s smiling, but his hands freeze on the condom packet. “What’s funny?”

  “Well, not funny funny. But I was just thinking that you’re pretty eager considering I’m the one with the long dry spell.”

  “This isn’t about how long it’s been,” he says as his gaze turns from ‘pretty eager’ to ‘downright smoldering’. “This is about how badly I need to be inside you, Gemma.”

  Oh.

  His hand returns to my pussy, fingers dipping into me as his thumb circles my clit. “This tells me you want me, too.”

  I nod, my hips jerking at his expert touch. He tears open the condom and I watch as he rolls it on. The ache between my legs is almost unbearable, but then he’s leaning over me, nudging me wider, until he pushes all the way inside.

  Fuck, that’s good.

  I moan against him, our bodies moving now, and damn, the feel of him is amazing, filling me up, driving into me with a sweet friction that makes my blood boil. Harder. Deeper.

  Yes.

  He suddenly rolls us, bringing me on top, and then fuck, the angle is incredible, him surging up to hit that sweet spot inside, just right. “Fuck, Gemma,” he groans, reaching up to play with my breasts. “You feel incredible.”

  “Right back atcha,” I manage, as I find my rhythm, riding him hard. I can feel my climax curling, deep in the base of my spine, and God, I want more. “Don’t stop.”

  “Fuck, no.” Zach grips my hips, and drives up into me again. Over and over, until I’m crying out his name—and then I explode, shattering in a rush of pleasure. I hear Zach groan, and then I feel him inside me, coming undone.

  We collapse together, sweaty and breathless.

  “Damn,” Zach exhales, and I feel a glow of pride.

  “You’re not too bad yourself,” I grin, nuzzling closer. He throws an arm around me, breathing fast, and we lay there a moment as my pulse returns to normal.

  Or about as normal as I can hope for, laying naked in bed with this hunk of a man. I stretch, feeling the afterglow hum throughout my body.

  Can I just say again: wow.

  “You good?” Zach asks, idly stroking my bare arm. “I’m not crushing you, am i?”

  “No, this is good. In fact, there’s only one thing that could make it better.”

  Zach looks at me expectantly.

  “Didn’t you say something about Chinese food?”

  18

  Zach

  - Day 8 -

  I wake up in Gemma’s bed and start her day off right with two orgasms. But sadly, she has to go in to work. “I’ve been shirking enough, heading out to camp,” she explains, pushing me out the door. “But I’ll see you later?”

  “Bet on it.”

  I’m whistling as I head the whole fifteen feet home to my place across the hall—and not just because of the incredible night we just spent together. She’s everything I thought she’d be in bed: sexy, passionate, responsive. But she’s so much more. Caring and smart. Also, trusting and playful. Up for adventure.

  Basically, one hell of a woman.

  Who has even arranged for my furniture to be delivered, according to the message on my voicemail. Two hours later, the delivery guys leave me with an apartment full of stuff. Couch, chairs, shelving … and the piece de resistance, an actual bed.

  “Look what just arrived!’”I can’t resist sending her a pic as proof.

  It’s only seconds later that I get her response: “WHAT? Love it! “

  “It would look better with you on it.”

  “Looking forward to it. Work busy, ttyl!”

  I can’t wait to show her the rest of the place, knowing she’ll love it. Because the truth is, I love it. I love that it looks like an adult lives here now. That I look like an adult, wearing trendy jeans and a crisp new button-down instead of a faded tee, cargo shorts, and flip-flops.

  Getting my shit together feels good. I feel good. Lighter. Like, a burden I’ve been carrying around has been lifted.

  It’s not just because of the—incredible, hot—sex.

  Gemma’s opened my eyes to how I was living before, mooching around and pretending I was on vacation. There was nothing relaxing about living in a dump, but now, looking around the apartment, I actually feel calmer, like I’m ready for the next chapter in my life.

  I’m just shelving my books on the actual shelves when I get a call from James, the guy who works at Styled. “Sorry, sorry,” he says, when I pick up. “There are still a ton of bugs in the app. Can I send you some screenshots, pretty please?”

  “Why don’t I come over there, and take a look myself?” I suggest.

  “Are you sure?”

  “No trouble,” I insist, although it’s not helping James I’m thinking about. Gemma works there too, and if I just happen to swing by and say hello, it’s no big deal. “I’ll be right over.”

  * * *

  I arrive at the Styled HQ in thirty minutes flat. This time, I know where I’m going, so I just head straight up to their floor. There’s no sign of Gemma, but that woman we met the other day, Arielle, immediately makes a beeline for me.

  “Zach!” she coos. She’s wearing a weird black-and-white dress that is all sharp angles and her face is made up with thick lipstick and mascara. “You look good.”

  “Thanks,” I say automatically, though her tone when delivering the compliment seems off. It’s like she’s reluctant, for some reason.

  “I like the threads. Did Gemma pick them out for you?”

  “Uh, kind of,” I reply. It’s not hard to tell that she and Gemma have a rivalry going on. This girl seems like she keeps her backstabbing knife very close at hand.

  I just hope Gemma isn’t the one on the receiving end of those jabs.

  “How cute,” Arielle coos. “Isn’t she just so helpful? It’s amazing how she can take her clients so far, working with so little. She almost deserves a prize, wouldn’t you say?”

  “Wouldn’t you say what?” Gemma materializes beside us. Damn. She looks cute, wearing a vintage-style print dress that shows off her figure.

  “I was just telling Zach, you deserve some kind of prize, for all the work you do.”

  Gemma coughs. “What are you doing here?” she asks me, looking uncomfortable.

  “Don’t worry, I’m not here to steal you away,” I reassure her. “I’m here to help James. Seeing you is just a fringe benefit.” I lean in for a kiss, but Gemma flinches back, throwing an anxious look over my shoulder.

  Of course. This is her workplace. PDAs aren’t exactly professional.

  “Come with me.” She suddenly grabs my hand and yanks me down a hallway.

  “Lovely seeing you, Zach!” Arielle’s voice floats after us.

  Gemma pulls me into the copy room, and shuts the door behind us.

  “That’s better,” I grin, slipping my hands around her waist, but Gemma pulls back.

  “What did she say to you?” she asks, looking nervous.

  “Nothing,” I shrug. “She was just saying ‘hi’. And complimenting you. I think.”

  She bites her lip, drawing my attention to her mouth. “Ignore her,” she says, still stressed. “She’s just trying to push my buttons.”

  I lean in and kiss the spot just below her ear. “That’s my job, pushing your buttons.”
r />   “Different buttons,” Gemma says, but she’s relaxing now, and when I kiss her mouth, she melts into me.

  I back her up against the wall, loving the feel of her curves against me. My hands rove over her, and then slide up her bare legs. “Zach …” she murmurs, not quite a protest.

  “What?” I ask, flashing her my best innocent look, even as one hand skims higher.

  She laughs. “You know.”

  “I don’t. You better explain. Slowly.” I stroke the inside of her thigh, and Gemma makes a little breathy noise. I’m pretty sure I can upgrade that to an all out moan, when suddenly,

  the copier starts up with a ker-chik and a hum. Gemma startles.

  “Someone’s printing something,” she says, pulling away. I reluctantly smooth down her dress.

  “Later,” I promise her, landing a kiss on her lips.

  She smiles back. “We can try out that new bed of yours. I’ll bring over the leftover Chinese.”

  “Perfect.”

  * * *

  James’ problems turn out to be an easy fix, and it’s only lunchtime when I emerge from the building. I know the area, we used to have an office right around the corner, so I head over a couple of blocks to where a bunch of food trucks always congregate, and take my place in line at my favorite taco stop.

  “Zach?”

  I look up in time to see Lisa waving at me from across the street. Fuck. I forgot, she works in the area too—and loves this food truck as much as I do. As she crosses the street towards me, I debate bailing on tacos, then decide to stick around. Who is she to deny me my carnitas? Besides. We’re both adults. I can make civil conversation with my ex-wife for five whole minutes if I need to.

  See? Growth.

  She takes a spot in line beside me, smiling widely. “Couldn’t resist the tacos, huh?”

  “Nope,” I say, keeping my voice pleasant. “How are things?”

  “Oh, great. We’ve got a big case on at work, and Suzie is dropping the ball again…” Lisa chat away about office politics and her annoying cousin like we’re just casual acquaintances. Not two people who took vows to be together forever.