This Is Crazy

by Natasha Madison

  “What is?” I ask when I’m finally able to speak some words.

  “Your eyes,” he says. “I can get lost in your eyes.” And just when I think he is going to lean in and kiss me, just when I can literally taste his lips on mine, the door swings open, and Zoe steps inside. I jump away from him and out of his reach, an action Zoe doesn’t miss.

  “Holy shit, I didn’t know you were home,” she says from the front door and then looks at Evan. “I thought you were going out.”

  “Change of plans,” I tell her. “Come in.”

  “What the fuck?” I hear whispered from beside me, and I look at him. “There are two of you?”

  I shake my head and laugh. “This is my twin sister, Zoe.” Zoe puts her purse down next to mine and slips off her jacket, tossing it on top of everything. This is the professional Zoe. She is wearing a maroon-colored pants suit with a white button-down silk shirt. I know exactly what brand her Yves St-Laurent shoes are because she stole them from my closet.

  “I’m the pretty one,” Zoe says, walking up to him and putting her hand out. “I’m also the funny one.”

  “She isn’t the funny one at all,” I finally pipe in. “She’s the annoying one who has the worst timing of life.”

  She laughs now. “She didn’t say that when I pulled the fire alarm at school and got her out of detention.” I look over at Evan who just stands there laughing. “Anyway, I thought you guys were going out. I came by to borrow a dress for a function I have to attend this weekend.”

  “And you weren’t going to ask me?” She shrugs after I ask her the question.

  “We were just going to order pizza,” Evan says and puts his arms around my shoulders. Zoe’s eyes watch his every move. “You should join us.”

  “Oh, there is an us now is there?” she teases, and I don’t know who I’m going to kill first.

  Chapter Eight

  Evan

  I look across the dining room table at her as she takes a bite of her pizza. Not with a knife and fork, not even with a plate in front of her. Straight out of the box, she’s folded the piece in half and taken a bite.

  “This has to be the best pizza of life,” Zoe says, and my head turns to her. When we were standing in the hallway, and I was so close to tasting her, I would have made a deal with the devil for just one kiss. Just one. But no one was taking bets that day because the door opened and shut, and I thought I was going lightheaded when I saw the woman at the door. All the blood had left my head and traveled south.

  “It’s my favorite,” I say, grabbing another slice out of one of the three boxes. We were going to eat in the living room, but Zara brought the pizza into the dining room. I’m now sitting in one of the brown chairs with the square marble table between us. She moved the vase of flowers to the other side. She sits at the head of the square table, I sit on her left, and Zoe sits on her right. “I have it every single time I’m here,” I tell them, folding my own pizza except pieces of sausage fall out. I ordered a large pie for each of us since we couldn’t decide on the same toppings. Zara was a just cheese girl, but Zoe added pineapples, and there was no way in fuck I was eating that one. Besides, I was going to finish this whole pie.

  “So Evan,” Zoe starts, and I look up mid chew. “What did you think of the tweet?”

  “I thought it was funny.” I look over at Zara who smiles and nods. “But I think the funniest part was the hashtag at the end.”

  “I think she should have put his picture with it so if you googled that hashtag, his picture would show up,” Zoe said, and I almost choke now.

  “I don’t know the law all that well, but I think he could sue for defamation of character?” I tell her, grabbing the water bottle and taking a drink.

  “But then he would have to prove he doesn’t have a pencil dick. And well,” Zoe says, lifting her hand open, “he’s going to lose.”

  “Can we talk about something else?” Zara says.

  “Yes, we can,” Zoe says. “Let’s talk about your date.”

  “No,” Zara says at the same time I say, “Sure.” And she turns and glares at me.

  “Perfect,” Zoe says, clapping her hands together and rubbing them. Zara drops the crust of her pizza in front of her and gets up.

  “Eat.” I look at her, pointing at the pizza, and Zoe stops rubbing her hands together. “You didn’t eat all day.”

  Zara puts her piece of pizza down and pushes away from the table. Zoe looks at her. “Where are you going?”

  “I’m going to hide all the knives and maybe the serving forks,” Zoe says, and I laugh at her. “She does not take well to being told what to do.” She points at Zara who just shakes her head as she turns to walk away.

  “What are your last wishes?” Zoe whispers when we hear drawers slamming shut in the kitchen. “Anyone you want me to mention in your eulogy?”

  “She isn’t really going to stab me?” I ask shocked and a touch scared. I look over her shoulder and see Zara come back in with a pizza cutter in one hand.

  “It’s going to be a slow death,” Zoe says, sitting down. “The blade is dull.”

  Zara bursts out laughing, and I look over at her. She tied her hair on top of her head, which gives me full access to her neck. I picture my teeth marks there and want to bury my face there. “It’s to cut his pizza,” she points out. The rest of the meal goes by so fast, and my stomach hurts from laughing.

  “Okay, lovebirds,” Zoe says, coming back from upstairs while we were cleaning up the pizza boxes and everything. “I’m going to head out.”

  “What did you take?” Zara asks, wiping her hands on a rag while Zoe holds up what looks like a long shirt. It’s a pinkish color with sequins all over it. “Are you sure you want to go with that outfit?”

  “Outfit?” I ask puzzled. “Where is the rest of it?” I look at it, and the most material it has is on the long sleeves. “You need to wear pants with that.”

  Zara looks over at me while Zoe tries to hide her laughter by rolling her lips. “It’s a dress.”

  She grabs the hanger from Zoe and holds it up to her chest, and I see it barely goes to her mid thigh. “See.”

  “Yeah,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest. “You can keep it, Zoe,” I tell her, and Zara stands there with her mouth open.

  “Oh, this is going to be so good. I’m going to get a whole new wardrobe from this,” she says, grabbing the dress from Zara, and I see now that it is all open in the back.

  “There isn’t even a back to this dress,” I point out.

  “It’s sexy chic,” Zara says.

  “It’s also mine now.” Zoe turns and walks out of the kitchen.

  “That dress cost me six hundred dollars.” She turns to look at me. “And I got it at cost.”

  “I’m not sure, but I think you overpaid. There is no material on that dress.” I wipe my own hands now. “Do you want to go into the living room and talk?”

  “No.” She glares at me, and I walk over to her, grab her hand, and lead her to the living room. I walk to the couch and sit down, bringing her down with me. She sits next to me, and I turn to face her as she gets comfortable. She tucks her feet under her and then puts her arm across the back of the couch. I put my own arm across the back of the couch behind hers, and my hand is close to her exposed shoulder.

  “What are you doing tomorrow night?” I ask her, and I’m not sure why.

  “I’m not sure. I have to fly out to Chicago on Thursday to meet with a client,” she tells me, and my mind is suddenly spinning.

  “Do you want to come watch the game tomorrow?” I ask her. I know it’s not a good idea because it will get back to her family, but I don’t really care. “I can get you tickets, and you can bring Zoe.”

  “Um.” She starts saying and then smiles. “I don’t really like hockey,” she says, and I gasp in shock. “I mean, I go for the food and the drinks, and I get to see my family, but other than that …” She shrugs.

  “Okay, what about this weekend?” I
ask her. “What are you doing this weekend?”

  “I’ll have to check my schedule,” she tells me. “I’m gone most of the next two weeks.”

  “Gone?” I ask her, my thumb now rubbing her arm slowly.

  “I have five client meetings, so I’m flying out West for a week.” Maybe it’s a sign that this is going to just be a one wedding date, and I should move on.

  “Do you want to be my date to the casino night?” I ask her, and I’m suddenly scared she is going to say no. “It’s in Dallas in two weeks. I have four days off.”

  “I don’t know,” she says softly, and I suddenly wish that the lights were on bright so I could see her face and her eyes.

  “I’d really like it,” I tell her softly. Her tongue comes out to lick her lip and then she pulls the whole bottom lip into her mouth, her teeth biting it. My mind starts playing tricks on me because all I can see is me advancing on her, taking her face in my hands, and kissing the shit out of her. “I should get going,” I say, getting up. I don’t want to leave but know that I should really, really go before I do something stupid that I can’t take back.

  “Oh, yeah,” she says, getting up and standing in front of me. My hand reaches out before I have a chance to take it back. Taking her cheek in my palm, I move it down to her neck and then her shoulder. I turn and walk away from her, my hand falling like a lead weight. She follows me to the door, and the light’s on from when Zoe left.

  “I really had fun today,” I say, grabbing my keys and glasses, then turn and look at her, trying to take her all in. “Let me know about the game or the casino night.” I try not to make a big deal about it, but my stomach is in knots.

  “I will,” she finally says, nodding.

  Leaning in, I swear I hear her breath hitch. I’m so tempted to kiss her open mouth, but instead, I kiss her on the cheek softly. “Lock up after me,” I tell her and walk out of the house and make my way to the car. I get in the car, starting it up, and pull away even though I have no idea where I’m going. The only thing I knew was that I needed to get away from her before I turned back around and begged her until she said yes.

  I turn the corner and take out my phone. It’s almost nine p.m., and I have forty-seven missed calls and over one hundred text messages. “Fuck,” I say to myself and call my sister since she is the majority of the calls. She picks up after one ring.

  “Where the hell have you been?” she shouts into the phone.

  “I met up with some friends in New York. Why?” I say, checking the texts to make sure I didn’t miss anything urgent. Mostly, it’s the guys discussing dinner.

  “Friends in New York?” she asks. “What friends?”

  “What difference does it make?” I open my maps and punch in the address to the hotel, following the directions while I connect the Bluetooth. “What were all the missed calls?”

  “I was calling to ask you if I could go to Mexico for the four days when you guys are on break,” she tells me. “Then you didn’t answer me, and it pissed me off, so I booked it anyway.”

  “Why do I need to give you permission?” I ask her, getting on the bridge out of New York. Suddenly, I feel like I’m forgetting something.

  “You don’t need to give me permission. It’s just during the casino night thing, and well, four of my friends are going, so I just booked it.”

  “It’s fine, Cand,” I tell her. “I didn’t even think you were coming to the casino night. You hate those events.”

  “Yeah,” she says. “Anyway, what did you do today?”

  “Not much. Is everything good there? How are the dogs?” I change the subject, and she fills me in about everything that has been going on, which isn’t much. I hang up with her just before I get to the hotel and park the car in front of the door, giving the valet the keys and telling him I borrowed it from the hotel. He nods his head and hands me a ticket to give the front desk.

  By the time I make it to my room, I’m ready to crash, but I undress and take a shower. My body feels tense as fuck, and I let the hot water wash over my neck while I stand there playing over the day in my head. When I finally walk out of the bathroom, I check my phone and have one notification from Instagram.

  Zara Stone has accepted your follow request.

  Chapter Nine

  Zara

  I feel his kiss linger on my cheek the whole time I’m locking the door after he left. My hands shake while I walk around the house, turning off the lights and heading upstairs to my bedroom. I’m exhausted and tense. Tense because I want to go watch his hockey game but know that I can’t without it getting back to my brother. Tense because I want to be his date to that casino night and tense because all I wanted was for him to kiss me before he left.

  I start the bath before I undress and light the candle. Slowly sinking into the hot water, I wait for the tension to leave my body. I’m usually good with closing off my mind and just letting it go but not tonight. Tonight, the only thing I see when I close my eyes is him. Smiling, laughing, looking into my eyes. I give up on relaxing and get out the bath, wrapping in a huge white plush towel. I walk to my bedroom and slide into bed, grabbing my phone and checking my messages. I can’t even deal with the messages from Zoe right now or the fact that she started a group chat. Instead, I go on Instagram and see I still have it open to Evan’s page.

  I click on my own Instagram and go back to my follow requests, and right there on the top is Evan’s name. I don’t know if I should or not, but my finger has other plans, and I click confirm.

  I put my phone down and turn off the nightlight I have beside my bed. My phone rings, and I see that it’s Evan.

  “Hello,” I say softly.

  “Does this mean we crossed a certain line?” he says, and I can see him smiling in my head.

  “Don’t celebrate yet. I just accepted for now, and then tomorrow, l’ll block you,” I say, rolling my lips when I hear him scoff.

  “What are you doing?” he asks, and I hear his moving around.

  “I just got out of the bath, and now I’m lying in bed. You?” I ask him and hear what sounds like him getting into bed.

  “I was just getting out of the shower when I got the notification.” I listen to his voice and wonder what he sleeps in. “Now, I’m sliding into bed. I have to be at the rink at nine for practice.”

  “You should get to bed,” I tell him, looking at the clock.

  “Have you thought about it?” he asks his voice soft, and I close my eyes, imagining him here. “Come visit me, sweet Zara.”

  “I’ll think about it,” I tell him, “but I’ll let you go for now so you can get some sleep.”

  “Sweet dreams, sweet Zara,” he says barely above a whisper.

  “Night,” I say and hang up before I shout that I’ll come to the game, and I’ll come to his house. I’ll give him anything he wants. What the hell is happening to me? I am never ever like this. It took Ed five dates for me to miss him or at least want to miss him. I raise my hand and put it to my forehead. Maybe I should call Denise, Max’s sister, and see if she can check me out to see if I’m okay.

  Closing my eyes, I spend the night tossing and turning. I have weird, vivid dreams that Evan is here or I’m somewhere with a huge ass lawn. It is so weird that when my alarm rings at eight, I groan and press snooze. But soon, the smell of coffee lingers in the air, and I sit up in bed, the covers falling off my naked body.

  “Hello?” I shout.

  “Seriously?” Zoe says as she comes up the stairs. “You hear a noise, and you shout instead of getting up and calling 911?” She comes into the room holding two cups of coffee. She is wearing yoga pants and a T-shirt with her hair tied on top of her head.

  “I don’t know many burglars who come into your house and make coffee,” I tell her, sitting up and holding the blanket to my chest. “Give me,” I say, reaching out for a cup and then hearing the front door open and slam.

  “I brought bagels,” Vivienne shouts, and I look at Zoe.

  The do
or opens again, and this time, I hear more voices. “Did you just get here?”

  I look at Zoe. “What’s going on?” I ask her and then hear a stampede of feet coming up the stairs.

  “Hey,” Zoe says as Vivienne, Karrie, and Allison walk into the room, wearing pretty much the same as Zoe.

  “I didn’t know this party was clothing optional,” Vivienne says, and I just shake my head as Allison comes to sit on the bed.

  “This bed is comfy. Did you replace the mattress?” she asks me, and I look at her.

  “Of course, I did,” I tell her. “I don’t know if you and Max had sex on the other one.”

  “We didn’t,” she says. “He refused to come into the house in case Matthew had installed cameras.” She laughs. “But I did replace the one that Karrie had when she was living here with Matthew because, well, we all know they were doing naked Twister in that bed.” We look at Karrie who just shrugs her shoulders.

  “He handcuffed me to this bed once,” she says, smiling, “for three days.” She sits on the bed also. “God, those were the days.”

  Allison, Zara, and I all fake gag when we see her getting all dreamy. “What is everyone doing here?” I finally ask.

  “Zoe called an emergency meeting,” Allison says, grabbing the coffee from my hand. “We had to get up at six thirty to be here. And all I heard was Max moaning since they just got home last night.”

  “Okay, you get dressed,” Zoe says to me, “and we will go make breakfast.”

  “Why are we having an emergency meeting?” I ask even though I shouldn’t since I know what Zoe is going to say.