by Gia Riley
“How can you be so sure about us? It’s so risky. What if this is the worst mistake of our lives?” I care about him so much, I’m considering risking it all.
“What if it isn’t?”
Dylan
This time when I open my eyes and Zoe’s still in my arms, I breathe a sigh of relief. Last night I took a chance when I messaged her on that pathetic dating app.
When Trevor put it on my phone, going on and on about how I needed to find a girl, it pissed me off. As far as I’m concerned, I have a girl.
But the damn thing actually came in handy, because I messaged Zoe and got her to open her bedroom door. She came to me, though annoyed with my joking. None of that matters though. Because when I asked her to get in bed with me, she did.
All this time, she’s cared about me. She hesitated because she’s convinced we’ll fail, not because she hasn’t noticed my feelings for her. That revelation only makes me want to love her harder. To prove that we can overcome age and time.
“Dylan,” she says as she rubs the sleep from her eyes. “I’m in your bed again.”
“I like you in my bed.” I press on the piece of tape that’s about to poke her in the eye.
“I forgot to change the tape last night. I didn’t even take my makeup off.” She swipes underneath her eyes and I laugh when she gets leftover black stuff on her finger and makes a face.
Her hair’s a bit of a mess, too, but even first thing in the morning, she looks better than half the girls on campus. “You’re beautiful, Zo. Stop worrying.”
“I can’t help it. I’ve never woken up with you. You’ve never experienced my morning breath and eye boogers.”
Smiling, I lean forward and press a kiss to her forehead. “Like I said, you’re perfect. None of that bothers me.”
“I wish you’d stop saying that,” she whispers. “I’m so not perfect.”
“I don’t expect you to be. You just are. Even if you thrash around in your sleep and talk about me. I’m surprised you’re not exhausted this morning.”
“What? I don’t talk in my sleep.”
“I heard all about your plans to poison my drink.”
She groans, pulling the blanket over her head. “I hate you, Dylan.”
“No you don’t,” I remind her as I pull the blanket away from her face. “You love me.”
Her eyes soften and she bites her lip. I tug it out from underneath her teeth and she sighs into my hand. That one little sound assures me her feelings are as deep as mine.
“I shouldn’t have told you about Chaz. I still can’t believe I had the guts to make him sick. I don’t go after people.”
“I’d like to think you were still riding a sex high.”
She rolls on her side and props her head up on her hand. “Other than those pills, I’ve never been high before. I’ve never smoked weed. Never even smoked a cigarette. Lame, huh?”
“Responsible, not lame. There’s nothing wrong with being a good girl. It’s attractive.”
The longer she stares at me, her smile fades. It’s not the first time she’s zoned out during a conversation. I’d love to know where she goes and what she’s thinking. But I know better than to pressure her for answers.
“Hey.”
She blinks out of the trance and smiles. It’s a dirty smile. One that’s doused in some serious sexual tension. “I need to get out of your bed.”
Before she can run, I grab her hand, keeping her where I want her. “No way. Not until you tell me what that smirk was about.”
A faint blush creeps up her neck and lands on the apples of her cheeks. “Is the second time like the first?”
Before I answer, I tuck a piece of hair behind her ear. Closing her eyes, she absorbs my touch, and it feels like Tyson is going ten rounds with Holyfield in my stomach.
“I think every time with you will be better than the last, Zo. That’ll never change. Every kiss. Every touch. Every heartbeat. You’ll feel it all the way from your pretty eyes to your pink painted toes.”
“That does sound intense,” she says.
“Because it’s me and you.”
She’s biting her lip again and when I lean forward and kiss her lips, she releases it. “I have to leave,” she mumbles against my mouth.
“No, you don’t.”
“Yes, I do. Before I . . . I want this, Dylan. I want us. Don’t think for a second I don’t.”
“But?”
“But it doesn’t change any of my concerns. I need more time to think about it before I let go.”
“Stay. Please.” I realize I’ve resorted to begging.
“I need time, Dylan. I’m sorry. Being with you is so many things. And I don’t know what to do with any of them. For the first time in my life, I’m nervous around you. I’m anxious all the time.”
“I’d worry if you weren’t. I’m always worrying about messing something up.”
She looks at me like I’m crazy, and I can’t help but smile at her puzzled expression. “You’re the one who’s always full of confidence. You’re the one who knows how to date.”
“I’ve never dated someone who matters. And that’s not a dig toward your sister. But I think we already covered why that happened.”
“We did,” she says. “Thank you for last night. I want us to talk more. I think that’ll help.”
“Okay.”
“You’re not mad?”
“Not even a little.”
As much as I don’t want to, I let her go. We’re on good terms and closer than we’ve ever been to getting it right. I have faith we’ll get there eventually.
When I pull my ass out of bed, Zoe’s in the kitchen arguing with someone on the phone. She’s probably talking to her sister.
“What’s wrong?” I ask her, not caring if I’m interrupting.
She covers the receiver with her hand and says, “Keely wants me to go to some class this morning.”
“Since when don’t you jump at the opportunity to go to class?”
“It’s not that kind of class. She’s trying to become an instructor for this exercise class. You’ve seen my attempts at coordination. I can’t keep up with that stuff. Plus, it might not be the best idea as far as my nose is concerned. I just stopped wearing the splint.”
Her eyes linger on my bare chest before she realizes I caught her checking me out again.
“I don’t mind if you look,” I whisper in her ear as I grab a mug out of the cabinet.
“I wasn’t looking,” she fires back.
“Zo, don’t lie to me. I saw you.”
“Okay, I was looking. Just help get Keely off my back. You always know what to say. What should I tell her?”
“If you don’t want to go, don’t. But you might like the class. You should try it.”
She huffs before returning the phone back to her ear. “Dylan thinks I’m fat, so I’ll go.”
As soon as she hangs up, I stand behind her, putting my hands on either side of the countertop to box her in. She tries to turn around, but I move closer until my hips are pressed against her ass.
“Dylan, what are you doing?”
Temptation is too close to deny myself. I flick away the hair covering her collarbone and I have to kiss her shoulder. She shivers but relaxes. “I’m not moving until you tell me how I called you fat.”
“You usually laugh when I put words in your mouth. It’s called teasing.”
Moving my hands to her hips, I show her what kind of teasing I have in mind. “Two can play, Zoe,” I tell her as I inch my fingers under her shirt until they dance around the waistband of the tight boy shorts she’s wearing.
She exhales a shaky breath. “P-point made.”
“I can’t hear you, Zo.”
“You didn’t call me fat. Happy now?”
I turn her around, making sure she listens when I tell her, “You can tease me about anything, but don’t put yourself down while doing it. I happen to really like this body. Okay?”
She nods. Kno
wing Zoe, her mind’s racing as fast as her pulse. “Okay, sorry.”
By the time I pour the coffee and hand her a mug, she’s still standing in the same spot. She can’t figure out if she should stay or go. I move to the recliner in the living room, smiling like a lunatic.
About twenty minutes later, Zoe strolls by me dressed in a tight pair of black stretchy pants. They make it impossible not to stare at her ass. “You decided to go to the class?”
“I couldn’t come up with an excuse because you had my thoughts all jumbled up. What about you? What are you doing today?”
“Trevor mentioned doing something tonight. Until then, I don’t plan on leaving this chair.”
“I guess I’ll see you when I get back then.”
“I’ll be waiting.”
She hesitates a second, staring at me, before clutching her bag and hurrying out the door.
Those fucking pants. It better be a class full of chicks.
Zoe
“So? How excited are you to try this?” Keely asks as we walk into the fitness center.
She left out an important detail when she was begging me to come to this class. She forgot to mention the poles—stripper poles. “I’m not doing this. There’s no way I can dance like a hooker. Plus, I don’t want another trip to the doctor if I fall and hit my nose.”
“It’s not like that. It’s sensual. It’s sexy. It’s an art.”
“You’re a trained dancer, Keely. I tap danced myself right to the emergency room when we were ten.”
“This is different. There’s no stage to fall off of.”
“There’s a pole.”
“You won’t fall. And just think, once you get in touch with your feminine side, you’ll be able to dance for Dylan and he’ll lose his mind.”
I toss my bag in the corner, taking another look at the floor-to-ceiling poles. Though mine appears sturdy, there’s no guarantee it’ll hold my weight. “There might not be a next time.”
Keely stretches her arms over her head, so I follow. “Why the hell not? If Dylan makes you happy, you should be with him.”
“It’s so weird,” I tell her. “We survived all those years without crossing a single line. Now I could throw up when I see him.”
My sister’s smile stretches from one cheek to the other. “You have arrived, sister of mine. Welcome to the dark side where your body and your mind are in a constant battle. My advice to you, let your body win. It’s so much better that way.”
“Dating my best friend is a recipe for disaster. I have to be stupid for even considering it.”
She takes my hand and traces the lifeline that stretches the length of my palm. “Dylan’s in love with you, Zoe. Like deeply, madly in love.”
“Are you reading my palm?”
“No, I’m just telling you it’s the real thing.”
I swallow the lump in my throat. She’s right. Even when I was awkward and saying stupid things, he was so patient and kind. “I slept in his bed last night. We cuddled and it was nice.”
“See, Dylan wasn’t like that with me. He’s different around you.”
Her words are sobering, like a cold bucket of water dumped over my head. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to rub it in. I honestly had no idea he wanted me.”
“It’s okay. I promise I’m over it.” She says she’s okay, but she’s picking at her nail polish. The polish she keeps perfectly manicured. I hate that someone I care about so much is responsible for hurting my sister.
As easily as she brushed him off when he broke up with her, I know she was hoping he was the one. That she finally found someone worthy of her time. Someone who wanted more than her body.
“You’re not second best, Keely. Not with Dylan and not with Dad. You’re you and I’m me.”
“You’re the brains and I’m the fun,” she says.
“No, Keely. You’re so much more than that. And you’ll find someone, too.”
“I’m not worried about it. I’m having fun with Chaz. Some people are meant to be and others aren’t. That’s all.”
“Right. Plus, we have bigger problems to worry about.”
“Like your ass swinging around this pole.”
“Can’t I watch? I’m a great observer.”
“Once you see what it’s like to fly, I promise you’ll be as addicted to the pole as I am.”
“That sounds so dirty,” I tell her. “Just don’t break my vagina again.”
By the time the room fills and class begins, I’m petrified. The others seem born to do this. Any one of them could get a job on stage and make a killing—even though that’s not what this is about.
The instructor modifies movements for the beginners, but I can barely get my butt off the floor. My arms ache and my skin burns when I neither glide nor coast around the aluminum rod. I chug along with too much hitch in my giddy up.
When we move onto trickier skills, I turn into a stale piece of licorice, nothing like the fluid goddesses around me.
“You’re doing great, Zoe. My first time sucked, too. Be you and it will get easier.” Mid-conversation, Keely flips upside down. Her abs contract as she spreads her legs into a full inverted split.
“Be me? You remember who I am, right?”
The hell with this.
I plop down on the floor while she blows my mind with her strength. There’s no way she ever sucked at pole dancing.
The class ends fifteen minutes later and I accept that my sexy is broken. Where’s Timberlake when you need him?
Keely’s so hyped up, she doesn’t even care I sat out at the end. And she takes me home without mention of a party or another shopping adventure. For once, my attempt was good enough for her, and I feel like swinging around that pole somehow brought us closer.
Dylan’s still dressed the same—shirtless with sweats hanging low on his hips. Leaning against the counter, he doesn’t hear me, so I take a minute to stare at my new guilty pleasure. Unable to take my eyes off his broad shoulders and toned biceps, I never realized how hot my best friend really is. I slept with that.
“Are you gonna come over here or stand there and gawk?” he asks with a knowing smirk on his face.
Busted. “Sorry.”
He walks toward me, never once taking his eyes off mine. The look alone scrambles all the butterflies in my stomach.
“I told you it’s okay to look, Zo. How was class?”
I snort as I hold my arms out. The pole burns are proof of just how horrible I did. “I sucked. No surprise there.”
He takes my arm, running his fingers over the red marks. “What kind of exercise was this? Your skin looks painful.”
“Pole dancing,” I tell him, prepared for the laugh fest that’s sure to follow.
Only Dylan doesn’t laugh.
Not even a chuckle.
He stops moving, maybe even breathing.
“You’re serious?”
“As a heart attack. Keely’s practically a stripper now, and she’d make a fortune.”
“No shit,” he says in awe.
For once I wish I was my sister, so he’d look at me with that much appreciation. “Probably makes you wish you didn’t break up with her, right?”
Dylan jerks me closer until our mouths are inches apart. His warm breath tickles my cheek. “No, Zoe. I’m disappointed I missed you dancing. Because that mental picture is pretty fuckin’ hot.”
“Keely said you’d like it.”
“Will you dance for me sometime, Zo?”
“I’m not sure I’ll ever go back, but if I do, I’ll try to learn something worth showing.”
“Fuck, that’s sexy,” he says with a little shake of his head.
“Keely also knows we slept together. She overheard our phone conversation at Chaz’s house.”
“Is that a good thing or a bad thing? You don’t look like you’re freaking out.”
“After we had sex, I wanted to tell someone, just because it’s a big deal. But the more I thought about it, I wanted it to
stay between you and me. I don’t think I was ready to tell her, but it happened all on its own.”
“No matter who you tell, that night will always be ours. Nobody can take that away from us.”
“She was okay with it,” I tell him as the microwave dings.
“Even if she wasn’t, we can’t take it back.”
“I don’t want to take it back.”
Smiling, he kisses the top of my head and tucks me under his chin. It’s like my own personal Dylan cocoon. “God, Zo. I’ve wanted to hear that for so long.”
With my arms wrapped around his back, I tilt my head to see his face. “Your food’s getting cold.”
“Eh,” he says as he holds me closer. “Soup can wait. You taste better.”
I grab a spoon off the counter and hold it up in the air. Laughing, he lets go of me when my stomach grumbles against his.
After he pulls the bowl out of the microwave, he sets it on the table and grabs another spoon. This one he keeps for himself.
“Go ahead,” he says when I eye the dish and lick my lips.
I dip my spoon into the warm potato soup, moaning at the buttery goodness. “I’m a good cook.”
“More eating, less moaning,” he says with another shake of his head.
“Sorry.” He lets me eat half his lunch when I could get up and make my own. A few times our spoons knock against each other’s and we laugh, but he always lets me go ahead of him for another taste. Being so close isn’t awkward. For the first time in days, I’m not as nervous around Dylan.
When we’ve finished lunch, I head straight to the shower. The entire time I’m washing my hair, I wonder what it would be like to shower with Dylan. At first, I’m into it, but then I laugh because nothing about showering with me and my loofah would be hot. I’m not the kind of girl who flaunts what she has, but maybe Keely’s right. Maybe she can help me get sexier. I did ride a metal pole for an hour.
I find the sexiest panties and bra I own and put them on. The reflection of the four post bed in the mirror gives me an idea. Practice makes perfect, so I try a few moves I learned in class, hoping I’m not as pathetic as I think I am. The mirror above the dresser is at just the right height to watch myself swing around the bedpost. I even point my toes like I was taught.
