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“Why’d you sneak me into your room, Clover?” “To give you a present,” I say, breathlessly. “And what kind of present is it?” Zac smirks, and I’m blushing again. “What kind of present requires you to sneak me into your bedroom, huh?”
Smile, Melly. It won’t kill you. Cheer up, Melly. People are starving in other parts of the world. What do you have to be so serious about? As if my cheerful mood would cause the heavens to open up and deliver food and water to the people who need it. It’s not like I’m perpetually upset. I just don’t see why I have to walk around with a beauty queen smile if I don’t particularly feel like giving one.
I have been desperately, pathetically, feel-nothing-unless-she’s-in-the-room in love with Melody Woods for fourteen years.
And that’s how I find myself crawling around on hands and knees at Melody Woods’s feet. Sounds about right.
The way she looks down at me, blue eyes wide, lips popped open. Long blonde hair curtaining her face as she takes me in, kneeling before her. Staring up like she’s the sun, and I’m here on my knees, ready to worship it.
“You’re always asking for news about her.” She’s exaggerating. I only ask once in a while. Every couple days, when not knowing how she’s doing starts to feel unbearable.
He actually dumped Melody Woods? Is he insane?
The closest we’d ever gotten were those few seconds in my bedroom, when he stood so close and looked at me like there’d been nowhere else he’d have rather been.
It’s taking every bit of focus I have to resist the urge to turn around. Tell her everything. That I’m in with her, that I’ve always been in with her, and that I’d do whatever it takes to win her over. To gain her trust, her forgiveness. I want to beg her for a chance. Or at least for the chance at having a chance.
“If I ever meet this ex of yours, there’s a good chance he’s face down on the pavement two minutes in.”
Fuck, she’s adorable. I’m addicted to her scowl. Always have been.
God fucking damn it, I will dismember that guy if I ever meet him.
Im coming too >:(
But I’d sleep in a flooded tent another year if it puts me back in her good graces.
Hes so in love
But the truth is, I don’t want platonic. I didn’t that night in her bedroom. I didn’t the day I caved in and went to find her hand-in-hand with Connor. I don’t today. Fuck platonic. I want her. And I won’t keep that to myself this time. Not if I can help it, not if she ever shows signs of interest. Extends an olive branch.
Even when I lost, it felt okay. Because there was a blue-eyed
eyed girl out there somewhere who believed I could do it. If not that game, then the next one.
His face isn’t meant to look anxious. His smile is just too damn good to go without, even though I’ve barely seen it all weekend.
“You—” I struggle for the right words. “You’re hitting on me. You realize that, right?” “I’ve been hitting on you all weekend. Thanks for finally noticing.”
“Do what?” I grip his chin, trying to get his mouth on me again. A second in, and I’m addicted. “That sound. Moan again or I might die.”
He looks like he means it. Like he’s toeing the edge of a cliff, risking it all for the sound of my moan. Like he needed this just as bad as I did.
“So, unless you’re telling me you go around dry humping all your friends, let me be very clear: you and me? We aren’t friends. Not even close.”
She breaks into a grin specifically designed to annoy me.
Fuck, it takes everything in me not to pull her close, pick her up, bury my face in her hair. Drop to my knees and beg her to let me have a taste of her. Just a tiny one, a small lick.
I bet she’s the sweetest thing.
“I’ll be your plaything. I’d wear the title like a badge of honor and eat you out on command.”
But me and her? It’s as personal as it gets. When you’ve been desperately in love with someone for fourteen years, a fling isn’t good enough. I want to be her last, and I need her to be mine.
got this, too. Wasn’t sure if you’d like the healthier kind or the stuff packed with sugar, so I got a bit of everything.” I hum. Reach for the waffle at the top of his stack. “Anyone ever tell you that you’re annoyingly
I eye the page. “You realize you’re encouraging me to come up with a plan to meet a guy, right?” “You already have a guy. He’s sitting fucking right here.” I make a show of looking around, but he cuts off the beginnings of my comeback with a pointed, unamused look. “That would be me, you brat.”
Annoyingly, irritatingly, breathtakingly thoughtful.
I love that he remembers. That I’m not alone in greedily hoarding memories of him, and the way he made me feel back then. Worthwhile, and tingly from head to toe whenever he’d look at me. Not so different from how I feel now.
“Did you ever peek over your shoulder?” “Trust me, I really wanted to. You look insane in that dress, Melody. It was meant for you. But for the record, you could walk around in a tarp and I’d still ogle the hell out of you. As long as you’re happy wearing it.”
As far as I’m concerned, she could come to me in the middle of a colonoscopy and I’d be thrilled to see her.
See this? Me and her, we’re an us. Parker’s consequences be damned.
“Probably not as much of a mindfuck as it is to be the one back here. Are you getting something or are you just here to stare at my legs?” Zac nods to the to-go cup of coffee on the counter between us. “Came for the coffee, stayed for the legs.”
Brooks grimaces. “I really wish you were. You realize you’re being possessive over nothing, right? I’m not actually interested in dating her—” My eyes narrow. “And why not? You think you’re too good for her, or something?” “What? Did you bang your head into a concrete wall before this conversation—” “Because she’s out of your league. And she’s way out of mine.”
Thing is, though, I don’t care how stuck I’ve been. She’s what I want. What I’ve always wanted, and I can’t help that.
I will never, ever, fall out of love with this woman. It’ll never happen.
But the truth is, I feel a lot like a depressed moth desperately searching for an open flame. My flame happens to take the form of a stunning, sharp-tongued woman in a bright sundress, who brings me four-leaf clovers as good luck before a game.
“I don’t understand how you’re single.” “I’ve never been single. I’ve been yours.”
“You’re a real catch, Zachary Porter.” Her eyes shine as she looks up at me, and I sweep her cheek with my thumb. “So, catch me.”
I rub my mouth, trying to keep the pride off my face. After all, she isn’t supposed to be here with me. But I’m gonna marry that girl one day. There’s no other way about it.
Surely—surely—he did not just call her babe. Does he have a death wish?
“You and me kissing, after all this time?” I release a long breath. “It should have been at sunset, with rain pouring down on us. It should have been at the top of the Eiffel Tower, with Paris at our feet.” Mel bites her lip, body melting into mine. “You’re a romantic.” “You bring it out of me.” “I hate it.” Her eyes fall shut, but her cheeks go pink. “No, you don’t.” Her mouth pinches in a smile. “No. I don’t.”
Tonight, I feel her in that first drop of rain, landing on Melody’s cheek. Her eyes widen in surprise. She inches away, staring at me and then the sky like she believes I had something to do with this, figured out how to command the weather just to steal a kiss from her.
I love everything about you. Everything single thing.
“Did you kiss him?” Her eyebrows shoot all the way up. “Zac, it isn’t real. You know that.” “Yeah, well.” I plant my hands on her hips and walk her back until she hits the swinging door to the women’s washroom. I push again, and we’re inside. “I’m not feeling very rational right now.”
She’s that first ray of sunlight after a bad storm. Peeking through the clouds.
I’d end a lot more over her. Go scorched earth on anyone and anything, if she keeps calling me her Zac.
