“Why? Am I embarrassing you? Why are your cheeks so red?”
I can hear the ticking from here…
“Because I am on the phone with a woman, you moron!” Zach explodes like a bomb. “I have my Bluetooth in because we’re trying to watch a show.”
I can imagine him sitting there, red-faced and waving his arms around in desperation, and the image is enough for me to laugh hysterically.
“Knock it off!”
“Knock what off?” Robbie questions.
“Not you, her!”
I laugh harder and Zach growls in my ear.
“Are you watching the show, like, together?”
“Yes!”
“Aw, that’s the cutest, pussiest shit I have ever heard—ow! Stop throwing things!” Robbie yells. “Whatever. I’m outie. Don’t wait up, bitch.”
A door clicks closed in the background and an exasperated sigh slips through Zach’s lips. “Can we hit play yet?”
“Yeah, Zach, we can hit play, but can I ask you something first?”
“Shoot.”
“Are you really touching your dick?”
Zach mutters a “Dammit, Delia” before saying, “I’m hitting play.”
I wake up to Netflix judging me, asking if I’m still watching Hemlock Grove.
Oh crap! Zach!
I scramble to find my phone, wondering how long I’ve been passed out on the couch. It’s after one, which means I’ve been asleep for at least two hours now.
There’s a text waiting for me.
Zach: Did we get disconnected?
Another text, twenty minutes later.
Zach: I think you fell asleep on me. I’m hitting the sack myself. Thanks for a fun evening. Good night, Delia.
“Why are you sitting in a dark room smiling at one in the morning?”
Zoe is standing in the doorway, her face flushed, wearing a smile of her own.
“Why are you only now coming home, at one in the morning?”
Her cheeks flame red. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Uh huh. So Shep’s as talented as they say?”
Her lips tip up into a smile, though there’s something different about it. It’s not an I-just-had-great-sex smile. It’s…more, but I can’t place my finger on it.
“Right, well, I’m headed to bed. I have an early shift tomorrow. Night, D.”
“Night,” I echo.
Finally dragging myself off the couch and to my bedroom, I brush my teeth and wash my face before crawling into bed.
Before I turn out the lights, I shoot Zach a quick text.
Me: Sorry I zonked out on you. Not my fault you’re boring. :-P But really, thank you, for everything.
* * *
Zach: For you, any time.
Zach: Do you have a beard?
* * *
Me: I shaved this morning, so not anymore.
* * *
Zach: I see. Do you wear flannel?
* * *
Me: Um…sometimes?
* * *
Zach: Interesting. And do you wield an axe? Have an interest in logging?
* * *
Me: That’s a definitive no.
* * *
Zach: So you’re not a lumberjack?
* * *
Me: Not that I’m aware of.
* * *
Zach: Color me surprised. You sure do sound like you’re a pro at sawing logs when you’re sleeping.
* * *
Zach: P.S. I’m saying you snore—LOUD.
* * *
Me: MEAN!
* * *
Me: This coming from the dick-toucher?
* * *
Zach: I WASN’T TOUCHING MY DICK!
* * *
Me: Yet? Right, Zach? RIGHT?
* * *
Zach: I’m ignoring you now.
* * *
ME: Have a great day…dick-toucher.
* * *
Zach: I really hate that that made me snort laugh.
* * *
Me: I’ll be here all week, folks.
* * *
Zach: You’re the best wrong number that’s ever happened to me.
* * *
Me: I know. *winks*
Eight
It’s official.
I, Delia Devlin, have a crush.
On Marshmallow.
Ugh. Fine.
It’s on Zach.
We have been texting non-stop for three weeks. Hell, he bought a goat because of me! How can I not be crushing on him? Zach’s fun, and I need fun.
It wouldn’t be such a problem if I didn’t drop everything the moment my phone buzzes or chimes, or if he wasn’t the first person I thought of every morning…and the last every night.
Erase all of that and this crush nonsense wouldn’t mean a thing.
But it’s all true. So, it matters.
The familiar buzz of my phone alerts me to a text.
A smile forms, because I know who it is.
See? There I go again.
Zach: Hear me out. You earned me another client.
* * *
Me: Why is that? And another? How’d I snag you the first one?
* * *
Zach: Remember the guy whose number I got wrong? Well, I saved that job because I told him about your smart mouth.
* * *
Me: So you’re spreading lies?
* * *
Zach: Am I, Delia? Am I really?
* * *
Me: Well…I guess not.
* * *
Zach: That’s exactly what I thought.
* * *
Zach: I mean, I used MY charm to win him over too.
* * *
Me: You dug down deep then, huh?
* * *
Zach: Why, my dear, are you saying I don’t have charm? I’m shocked!
* * *
Me: Are you, Zach? Are you really?
* * *
Zach: There’s that sense of humor again.
* * *
Me: Why do I feel like you meant that in a sarcastic manner?
* * *
Zach: Because I did.
* * *
Zach: Anyway, as I was saying, I scored ANOTHER client because of you and our meet cute.
* * *
Me: We have a meet cute?
* * *
Zach: Yes, our wrong number situation. Try to keep up.
* * *
Me: Sorry, sorry. Please continue.
* * *
Zach: After I told her about that, she was all giggly and whatnot. Then, WHAM. I laid it on thick. I told her about Marshmallow and his future brothers. I’m almost certain her panties were on the floor by the end of the phone call.
* * *
Me: AH HA! You admit it! Marshy is getting brothers!!
* * *
Me: Also, you’re welcome for charming the PANTIES off your client. *bows*
* * *
Zach: Excuse me, I (stressing this) was the panty-charmer.
* * *
Zach: They didn’t call me Zach the Panty-Charmer in college for nothing. ;-)
“What’s so funny?”
Shit. I didn’t realize I was laughing out loud, and I’m a total dick because we’re supposed to be having girl time right now and here I am texting Zach.
Again.
See why this crush is a problem?
“Oh, uh, nothing important.”
Zoe hijacks my phone and I try with all my might to snatch it back, but damn her and her freakishly long arms. I watch as she scrolls through my text conversations, her brows pinching together before they shoot up in surprise.
“Who in the hell is this, D?”
“His name is Zach.”
“Yes, I can read that, but who is he?”
I wring my hands together. “I, um…well, I don’t really know who he is. As you can see, there was a bit of confusion. After we talked—”
“Wait,” Zoe interrupts, holding h
er hand up. “You talked to him? Like in person?”
“On the phone. Twice.”
“And?”
“And what?”
“How sexy was his voice?”
Feeling the blush creep up my face, I cover the evidence from my best friend, but she’s fast, grabbing my hands and yanking them away. She holds them in her own, staring into my eyes with a mischievous grin.
“You little minx, you! You’ve been holding out.”
“It’s…gah! Zoe, it’s so hot. All gruff and deep.” I don’t care that I sound like a silly teenager right now. Zach’s voice is hot.
“What’d you guys talk about?”
“The first time it was to set the record straight on who we are. The second time…” My mouth feels dry, because I know what I’m about to reveal to Zoe will upset her. It’s not like I was intentionally hiding my Netflix night with Zach. I…well I don’t even understand what’s happening with Zach. How am I supposed to explain that to Zoe?
“D? The second time?”
“Friday.”
“As in this past Friday? Like two days ago?”
“Yes?”
Her eyes narrow. “Are you asking or telling me?”
“Telling?”
“Delia!”
“Fine! Telling! It was this past Friday. We kind of, uh, watched a show together.”
“He drove over here?”
“Over the phone. It began with texting but after he bought me dinner—”
“WHAT!” she explodes, interrupting me. “How?”
“He called around and found out where I had ordered wings from. We had planned to eat the same thing.” Zoe’s eyes are huge, her attention focused on my lips as she absorbs every word coming out of my mouth. “It was sweet, in a creepy stalker kind of way. Anyway, I called him after my food arrived already paid for and we never hung up.”
“That’s why you were sitting in the living room in the middle of the night.”
“That’s why.”
“Anything else I should know?”
I chew my lip, working up the courage to tell her about our night two weeks ago. Screw it. I have to tell her. She’s my best friend, and it’s only right.
“Remember our night out?”
She taps her chin. “Hmm…Lola’s?” I nod. “What about it?”
“Well…”
“Out with it!”
I hold my hands out. “Okay, okay. My cash was stolen out of my purse and you were shitfaced and I promised Caleb I wouldn’t walk home because it was late and I didn’t want any trouble so…Zach rescued us.”
She jackknifes off the couch, standing over me looking wild as a cat. “You put drunk me and sober you in a car with this guy? What!”
“No! He paid for our cab fare and even tipped the driver for us.”
She sits back down on the couch, folding her legs under her and placing her hands in her lap. She appears docile, and the act is almost believable. “Oh. Well, that was kind of him. So…are you planning to, like, meet him?”
“WHAT? No! I can’t do that!”
“But he’s local, yeah?”
I tilt my head, skeptical of where she’s going with this. “Yes…”
“Perfect!” She claps her hands together. “Then you’re meeting him.”
“No! No way!”
All at once, she’s hitting keys on my phone and bringing it up to her ear. I jump into action, but I’m too late.
I hear it.
“Delia.” His voice slides over the line, smooth and in control. “What have I done to deserve this pleasant surprise?”
I snatch the phone away as Zoe opens her mouth to speak; she’s too distracted by his voice.
“I-I…” I sound nervous—because I am nervous. I just don’t understand why.
“Spit it out, dear. I have work, you know.”
“Did you just dear me, Zachary?”
“First, my name isn’t Zachary. It’s Zach. S—”
“Is it really?”
“Yeah,” he says, his voice rising into a question. “Why is that surprising?”
“I assumed Zach was shortened down from Zachary or Zachariah.”
“Nah. My mom wanted something simple, I guess. It’s just Zach.”
“Can I still call you Zachary?”
“No.” His voice is stern. I ignore him.
“We’ll see.”
“Anyway, as I was saying before I was rudely interrupted, yes I did dear you, dear Delia. Now, what did you need?”
“Oh…nothing.”
“You just called to chitchat?”
“Technically I didn’t call.” I glare at Zoe, who raises her hands in innocence. “My friend stole my phone and scrolled through our texts. By the way, she agrees with me and thinks you’re a complete creeper.”
“I never said that!” Zoe shouts, loudly enough for Zach to hear.
“Ignore her.”
“Ask him out already!”
Zach chuckles. “Oh, so that’s what this is about. She wants to set us up, thinks we’re not capable of getting there on our own.”
“Yes, it would appear so.”
I glance to Zoe, who’s sitting next to me appearing rather satisfied with herself. She grins and mouths you’re welcome. I throw a pillow at her.
“…to dinner?”
“What?” I wasn’t paying a lick of attention to Zach, but I think he might have asked me to dinner.
“Well we’re off to a great start here, Delia.”
“Sorry, Zoe distracted me.”
“Zoe? Ah, the friend?”
“The friend.”
“I asked if you’d like to, I don’t know, go to dinner with me? Robbie thinks us meeting would be a smart idea too, especially after our Netflix night. I think our friends are trying to set us up.”
“It would appear so.”
“Are they right? I mean, should we…meet?”
I worry my fingers together, a nervous habit of mine. Dinner with Zach? I…well, shit, I don’t know if I want to. I like him—a lot. We’ve been texting non-stop, have even joked about meeting, but actually going through with it? I don’t know if I can. What if he’s not what I’m expecting? What if I’m doing exactly what I did with Caleb—taking a friendship and making it into more when that special spark isn’t there? I’m not sure if I can face him, ruin the image of him I have in my mind, ruin the blossoming friendship we have.
But the curiosity is killing me and my gut is screaming at me.
I think I have to meet him.
“Or coffee, or drinks…or we could forget I said anything at all and tell our friends to butt out of whatever it is we have going on here. Did I ruin everything?”
“Huh? What?”
“Are you distracted by Zoe again? Please tell me it involves naked pillow fighting.”
“Creeper.”
“Guilty…this time. But Delia?”
“Yes, Zach?” I’m out of breath, but my ass has been planted on this couch since the phone call began. There’s no reason I should sound like I just ran a 5K.
Zoe notices and is up on her knees on the edge of the sofa, perched and waiting for what’s to come. She presses close to me, her ear against the phone so she can hear what he says.
“Will you please go on a date with me? I’d really like to take you out sometime. I’ve been suggesting we meet up for weeks. Please.”
Zoe squeals and falls back with a huge grin stretched across her face like she’s the one who was asked out.
“Why?” Out of the corner of my eye, I see Zoe’s head whip my way in surprise.
“What do you mean?”
“I said what I meant.”
“Delia…” Zach begins, the charm so thick in just that one word.
“I want one reason why I should say yes.”
“Because I’ll let you touch my butt?”
My body quakes with laughter the moment the words leave his mouth.
“What? I’ll have you know I
have a fantastic ass, Delia. You’ll want to touch it, and you’ll want to touch it often.”
Zoe’s staring at me with disbelief, because I’m laughing so hard no words are coming out as Zach continues to wax poetic about his ass.
“I work out and make sure to do my squats so my ass is perky as hell. If you say yes, you won’t be sorry, and if you say yes and ask nicely, I’ll even let you see it.”
“You had me at ass, Zachary.”
“Hey, Delia?”
“Yeah?”
“Bring my penis potholders.”
Zach: How do you feel about sushi?
* * *
Me: I feel it slide down my throat and quickly come back up. Does that count?
* * *
Zach: Sushi is a no. Noted.
* * *
Zach: What about Mexican?
* * *
Me: Can I just eat the free chips and salsa?
* * *
Zach: No. How about Italian?
* * *
Me: Can you be any more cliché?
* * *
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