Apparently that last line was the final straw because Dana jerked upright, sputtering, “What—no. That wasn’t the agreement. He was on loan to you. It wasn’t a real date; don’t you remember? You’re in love with Dylan. Paul isn’t even your type.” When Zoe didn’t react, Dana shrilled, “Do you want to eat at Subway for the rest of your life?”
“Calm down,” Zoe giggled. “I have no desire to take your man. Because that’s exactly what he is. I have no idea why you really broke up with him, but it’s clear you’ve still got feelings for him, and considering he said your name about a hundred times last night, I’d say it’s mutual. So what gives there? Are you really that hung up on his, um . . . package? I certainly would hope that Dylan has a good-size thing down there, but if we ever got together and I discovered that he didn’t, I wouldn’t dump him over it. It’s not like that’s something a man has any control over.”
“He said he never wanted any kids,” Dana blurted out. “Actually he called them brats, which is even worse.”
“Hate to point it out, Dana, but you call them the same thing. Isn’t that a little pot and kettle?”
“I know,” Dana huffed, “but I still want them someday. We had a talk about the future one night, and even though he said he hoped we’ll still be together, that was it. No marriage, no kids, or any kind of change for that matter. I think he’s perfectly content to run his gym and date. Which is fine right now, but we’re not exactly kids. Shouldn’t he have some goals?”
“Well, he has his own business,” Zoe pointed out. “So it’s not as if he’s a slacker. That had to have taken careful planning to start and to maintain. Trust me, something like that is your baby for a long time. It’s possible he wasn’t putting as much thought into the future as you were at that time. He may have been feeling overwhelmed by the business and said the first thing that came to mind. Plus, let’s face it, sometimes men aren’t as sensitive and in tune with our feelings as we’d like them to be.” Grimacing, she added, “I wouldn’t be going through this whole circus with Dylan if he’d picked up on any of my thoughts, that’s for sure. So you should talk to Paul. Get everything out in the open. Oh, wait—you’re dating someone else. Should you break up with him before or after you talk to Paul? It would be kinda wrong to wait, like keeping your options open in case Paul doesn’t say what you want to hear.”
Shrugging her shoulders, Dana said, “Mike and I broke up last night, so that’s not a problem.”
“Oh my God,” Zoe cried, “why didn’t you tell me? Are you all right? Here I was going on and on and you’ve had a breakup.” Looking around behind the counter frantically, she added, “I think I’ve got a chocolate bar here somewhere. Will that help?”
“Sweetie, it’s really not a big deal,” Dana said calmly. “It wasn’t going anywhere and I never wanted it to. He was a rebound thing to get over Paul—which obviously hasn’t worked so well. Last night I was telling him about you going out with him and apparently my jealousy came through loud and clear. Mike’s a very sweet guy and he said he never understood why I’d broken up with Paul in the first place and maybe I needed some time to get my thoughts together. That was it. No big scene or angry words. We’re still friends and will stay that way.”
Zoe was more impressed than she could say. It all sounded so very adult to her. “Wow, it’s amazing how that worked out. So you’re free and so is Paul. What are you going to do about it?”
A regular mothers’ group came in before the other woman could answer, and by the time they’d served them and other customers who trickled in behind them, almost an hour had passed. Dana walked by on the way to the kitchen and paused. “That last question you asked?” Holding up her arm, she flexed her muscles. “I think I’m going for a little workout tomorrow morning. You can burn a lot of calories doing naughty things on the reception desk, you know. But in the meantime, how about a girls’ night? You order the pizza and I’ll bring the wine—a bottle for each of us.”
Giving her friend a high five, Zoe said, “You got yourself a deal. Plus, it’ll give me something to do since Dylan’s volunteering for Habitat for Humanity today. And he usually meets his friends for dinner on Thursdays.”
Dana shook her head. “I swear, you should be married to that man. You know his schedule better than he does. Anyway, I’ll be over about seven tonight. We can plan your next move, although I don’t know how much more we’ll need. If last night was any indication, Dylan’s going to fold like a house of cards soon. I give him another week max.”
Zoe could only hope her friend was right because otherwise the only move left was telling him how she felt and it would take more than Dana’s bottle of wine for her to do that. Their next plan had to be brilliant. She felt a twinge of guilt at the deception, but quickly brushed it aside. All was fair in love and war and this might be a little of both before it was over with.
• • •
Dylan was tired and irritable when he arrived at Zoe’s condo around ten that evening. He’d spent the day with several other Oceanix employees working on a Habitat for Humanity house on the other side of town. He volunteered as often as he could, and even though he’d been distracted with Zoe for the last few days, he always honored his commitments. Normally, he met some friends for a beer on Thursday, but everyone it seemed had scheduling conflicts tonight, which was fine by him. He’d been playing phone tag with Zoe all day and he didn’t plan to let another night pass without getting to the bottom of her strange behavior. Hell, he’d barely slept, thanks to her. He was tired, irritable, and distracted. At this point, he knew all he’d accomplish at the office tomorrow would be more hours expended on Angry Birds because that’s about the only thing he did other than obsess over his best friend. That had to stop. It was messing with his whole life.
When he stepped out of the elevator, he heard music blaring. For a moment, he thought it was her neighbor, who traveled a lot but liked to entertain when she was home. As he walked closer to Zoe’s door, though, he realized it was actually coming from her place. Why would she be having a party on a work night? That was absurd. Shit, I’m really starting to sound old. Shrugging that thought aside, he pressed the doorbell. When no one answered, he did it twice more before giving up. He doubted she could hear him over all the noise. He pulled his keys from his pocket and quickly located the spare that he kept for her. When either of them was out of town, the other always checked on things while they were gone.
He tried the bell one last time before fitting the key in the lock and opening the door. What he saw had him blinking in shock. Maybe he was more sleep deprived than he realized. Because unless he was hallucinating, Zoe was pole dancing while Dana shook her hips and shouted directions. Holy mother, his best friend was wearing skimpy shorts and a tank top while she ground her hips against a shiny bar. Dylan swallowed hard, but it did nothing to ease the lump in his throat or the rapidly growing bulge in his pants. Looking to the heavens for a brief moment, he mouthed, What else, God? before turning back to process what he was seeing. “Um . . . hello,” he announced, attempting to be heard over the noise. Neither woman acted as if they’d heard him. By this point, Zoe appeared to be kissing the pole. What the hell?
“That’s right, work it, girl,” Dana yelled in encouragement. “Get in there and show him who’s boss. Shake that moneymaker.”
Moneymaker? This was getting out of hand fast. He was both afraid and hopeful that Zoe would start stripping next. Fuck, if that happened, he wasn’t sure what would become of him. He was so hard now, his cock was digging into his zipper through his boxers. “Hello!” he bellowed out and was thankful to see both women jerk and look his way.
“Hey, Dylan.” Dana staggered over and attempted to hug him. He held an arm out, keeping some space between them as he attempted to pry her hands off his chest. Suddenly she pulled back and wrinkled her nose. “You smell sweaty,” she stated as if she didn’t reek of booze. “Hey, Zoe, look who’s here,” she singsonged. “It’s your Pooh Bear.”
“All right, ladies, party’s over. I’ll take Dana home, then I’ll come back and make sure you’re okay, Zoe. You’re too drunk to be alone.” He knew the trip would probably be hell with someone so obviously wasted, but he really just wanted Dana gone.
He was halfway to the kitchen when Dana called out, “Paul’s on his way to pick me up so I don’t need a ride. Well, at least not the kind you’re offering.” Another round of giggling accompanied that lewd statement and he stood with his back to them for a moment, until he’d worked up the courage to turn around.
“Paul as in your date from last night?” he asked Zoe. He couldn’t say that he was surprised. The man had plainly been a dirtball.
“He was mine first,” Dana tossed out, “and we’re back together. But it’s okay, ’cause I’m getting Zoe an even better one.”
How attached is Zoe to her employee? Because I’m ready to buy her a one-way ticket to anywhere but here. Struggling to remain calm, Dylan bit out quietly, “I think you’ve helped out quite enough. You and your boyfriend or whatever the hell he is need to leave Zoe alone.”
Dana put her hands on her hips, slurring out, “You’d like that, wouldn’t you. Then you could have her all to yourself.” Then she got right in his face, wagging her finger so hard he wouldn’t have been surprised to see it pop off. “She’s got a life other than you now, big boy. If you want to spend time with her, then you got to schedule ahead. She’s not your back-end . . . backdoor . . .” While he was trying to figure out what she was trying to say, she let out a series of hiccups before yelling, “Backup plan!”
As if sensing his rising temper, the other woman wobbled away. Following behind her more slowly, he asked, “Do you need to call your boyfriend and let him know you’re ready to go?” Please let her be leaving before I’m forced to hide her body tonight.
He sighed in relief when she said, “I already texted him.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Zoe begin to sway on her feet. She still had the same stoned grin on her face, but she looked a little paler than she had a few moments ago. He crossed to her and was a few inches away when she launched herself at him. For someone drunk, she was surprisingly strong and agile as she wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. He automatically put his arms around her to keep her from falling. This is so not good, he thought as his now semi-erect dick took notice of the new situation immediately. “Hey, best friend,” she cooed as she snuggled closer. “You feel good—so hard.”
Her cheek was against his chest so he could only hope she was talking about those muscles and not his dick with that last word. “Um . . . Zoe, let me put you on the sofa. It’ll be more comfortable.” But as he bent over and removed his hands, she stubbornly held on. Shit, when did she get so strong? She hung on to him like a monkey, and nothing short of prying her off was going to work. So instead, he straightened, having no idea what to do next.
Dylan was almost certain she sniffed him, which if what Dana said about the sweat smell earlier was true, then it might not have been a great idea. “Mmm, I think I’ll just stay right—”
When she stopped mid-sentence, he looked down just as a soft snore sounded from her mouth. Don’t think about how adorable she looks in your arms, she’s your best friend—that’s all.
He was jerked from his musings as someone banged on the door. No doubt it was Paul, who couldn’t be bothered to use the buzzer. “That’s my baby.” Dana ran through the apartment. Dylan was pretty sure she’d nodded off to sleep as well since she hadn’t been in his face in at least two minutes. He thought of warning her to check the peephole first, then decided that he didn’t really care as long as whoever was on the other side took her with them. But a few seconds later, he could tell it was Paul by the amount of groping and tonsil sucking going on in the hallway.
“Good night—shut the door,” He called to them and was pleasantly surprised when it actually worked. Dylan didn’t care if she’d left her purse and whatever the hell she brought with her, she wasn’t getting back in tonight. She’d probably screw her jock boyfriend right there in the elevator for all to see. Again, not his problem.
The warm body pressed against his begin to wiggle around. He rocked her soothingly, thinking maybe she was having a bad dream or something even though she’d barely been asleep long enough for that to happen. “Rock a bye baaabbby,” she began to sing. It was so bad, he thought his ears might bleed, but he found himself chuckling anyway.
She didn’t appear to be inclined to let go of him anytime soon, so he turned around and plopped down on the sofa. He thought that had probably been a mistake when that put them almost face-to-face. How had he never noticed how gorgeous her big brown eyes were before? And those lips. Soft, pink, and so perfectly plump. It was taking everything he had not to lean down and see if they tasted as good as they looked. He knew he was screwed when her teeth clamped down on the lower lip as she stared at him. Dammit, he was sweating again. He’d probably lost five pounds of fluid in the last few days from that nervous habit alone. She reached out to touch his forehead about the time he gently began tracing her lip and trying to remove her teeth from the tender flesh. “Let go honey before you hurt yourself,” he instructed raggedly.
“You’re flushed again,” she whispered as she stroked his face. “Are you sure you haven’t picked up a bug of some kind? I don’t think it’s anything sexually transmitted because I don’t believe you’d sweat—at least not up there.”
When she looked down toward his crotch, he had to resist the urge to clamp a hand over it. Clearing his throat, he said, “I can assure you that everything’s in top condition and there’s no problems under the hood, so to speak.”
She nodded, then gave him a toothy grin. “That’s good to hear.” She let her head fall against him once again before saying, “At least you have that possibility. You know, that you could have HD or something.”
“HD?” he asked in confusion. Then it hit him. “Er . . . I think you mean VD, as in ‘venereal disease,’ and I don’t think there’s any possibility of that, sweetheart. I’m a safety-first kinda guy. I always wrap it up. Never gone bareback before. Don’t want any little Dylans out there running around that I don’t know about.” Why am I rattling on about this? Fuck, just shut up already. You’re making yourself sound like a man whore.
“That’s good.” She patted his chest. “I’ll have to remember that if I ever get that far with a man. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’ve made out before,” she slurred, “but that’s it. Guess you could say I’ve been to second base. Wait, what is second base exactly?” Before Dylan could answer, she plowed on. “If third base is touching the downstairs area—you know under the clothes, then I haven’t been to that one yet. And no one has slid into my home base.” Looking up at him suddenly, she added, “That’s code for sex, in case you didn’t know. Going all the way and everything.” She collapsed limply back against him, and he heard another soft snore.
There was no way he could let her revelation pass without clarification. He used a hand to shake her gently. “Zoe, are you trying to say you’re a virgin?” They’d been friends their entire adult life so of course he knew she didn’t date much. But there had been both of their college years when they’d lost touch at times. She’d mention some guy she was seeing and he had always assumed there was sex involved. He hadn’t particularly liked it even back then because he’d always felt protective where she was concerned. She was his best friend, after all, and he didn’t want some bastard taking advantage of
her. He knew she’d been extremely busy in recent years making a success of her business and didn’t have time for a man in her life. He’d had no problem with that since it meant she was usually free to hang out when he wanted to. I’m such a selfish bastard.
“Huh?” she mumbled when he jarred her again. “Oh, yep, I’m a virgin. Probably the oldest one still left in Florida.” She was drifting off again, but her last words were enough to turn him to ice. “But I’m going to do something about that before I’m thirty. Giving it to someone special.”
No way in hell. His mind had officially been blown. Zoe was still a virgin and she’d decided to change that status by her next birthday? The sudden change in her appearance and the increase in her social life made a horrifying kind of sense now. And Dylan couldn’t let it happen. What she obviously viewed as a bad thing, he thought was amazing. She was almost thirty and had never been with a man. Why in the world would she want to give something so precious away to a stranger? Fuck, what if she’d slept with that loser Paul?
He absently pressed a kiss to the top of her head while he pondered the dilemma. He’d had his cherry popped years ago, so he’d never put much thought into it after that. For most guys it was fairly simple. From the moment you were old enough to figure out the difference between the sexes, you used most of your brain cells hoping a chick would say yes. If you’re lucky as you gain maturity, you’re a little smoother, but the end goal is the same—sex. Dylan wasn’t a vain man, but he had to admit that wooing a woman had never been a problem for him. There was usually one available whenever he wanted. Hell, it would take him an embarrassingly long time to sit down and count his past partners. He wasn’t even sure he could. It was hard for him to fathom how the woman he held in his arms could be so innocent.
Keeping It Hot (The Breakfast in Bed #1) Page 5
