Falling For The Ghost Of You Part 20

I gesture toward the house, and Zane starts walking, hands stuffed down his jeans pockets.

When he's a little bit ahead of me, he turns around, walking backwards.

"Did anyone ever tell you you're a real smarta.s.s?"

I nod. "It's really starting to make me wonder."

It's ridiculously easy to sneak Zane upstairs. Mom and her friends are chatting over cake and coffee, reminiscing about the good ol' days from the sound of it.

Zane's never seen my bedroom before. I wonder what he'll think of it. I haven't added any personal touches to it yet, so it's still showroom perfect.

Except for all my underwear, lying in a heap on the top of my dresser.

Ugh, it was laundry day today. How could I have forgotten to put them away?!

I rush forward, opening up the top drawer and shoving all the lacy sc.r.a.ps in there in one big arm swoop.

Okay, I know it's not like he hasn't seen my underwear before. But, still, I don't want him thinking I'm a huge slob.

Zane is looking around. He picks up my quartz paperweight and examines it. "Nice room, but it doesn't feel like you at all."

"I know," I acknowledge. "I should put some posters up, or something, huh?"

"Yeah. And where's all the empty energy drinks, and the dirty underwear tossed on lamps and dressers, like a normal teenager?"

"What kind of messy a.s.s teenagers do you know?"

He laughs. "I guess that's more of a guy thing, anyway."

"Oh. Ew." Now that I think of it, he could have been talking about Matt's room.

There is an uncomfortable silence. Then Zane moves to stand right in front of me.

"So," he says, looking down at me.

"I...uh..."

I am totally distracted by his clean s.e.xy scent!

"I like Jenna," I blurt out. "She seems...nice."

"Yeah. Sorry about springing her on you like that. She showed up a couple of days ago, unannounced."

"Oh," I say, striving for a casual tone. "So, you two are really close, huh?"

Zane reaches over and tugs on a stray lock of my hair. "Are you asking if we slept together?"

"What?" I huff indignantly. "That's not what I...did you?"

"No. Never." He looks me directly in the eye. "We're friends-that's it."

"Well, she's pretty," I say almost defensively, like he can't be friends with a pretty girl. "She has great eyes."

"Yeah, they're beautiful."

"Yeah! They're so big!"

I make an inappropriate gesture with my hands, much the same way an immature boy would to pantomime grabbing b.o.o.b. Zane starts laughing.

I close my eyes briefly. "Um, is there anything I can say right now to convince you that I don't actually have latent lesbian tendencies?"

"Say? No. Show, maybe. And you have to be very convincing." He offers me a s.e.xy half-grin.

"Ha," I say weakly. Then I take a deep breath. "Actually, I wanted to apologize to you about-for...going all cracked out on you about that little tramp, Marissa. Even though I think you were unnecessarily nice and encouraging to her flirty ways-well, that's your right, and I shouldn't have acted like a jealous girlfriend." I pause, then my eyes widen in horror. "Oh, G.o.d, I didn't mean girlfriend! I meant to say b.i.t.c.h! Because obviously I am not...we're not...you know...like, dating, or...p.e.n.i.s?"

Zane crosses his arms over his chest, full out laughing now.

"Oh, come on!" I plead. "Put me out of my misery."

"I really should," he agrees, shaking his head. "But I kind of don't want to. It's like watching a train wreck."

"Thanks. I'm going to go now. Maybe I'll go find a convent. They like virgins there, right?"

I start to turn away, but Zane pulls me against him. He is so solid, warm, s.e.xy...I melt into him.

"I don't think they'd take someone who looks like you into the convent. Too distracting. Think of all the hot nun jokes you would inspire." His big hands settle over my hips, settling me more firmly against him. "Besides, I have plans for you."

My hands snake up behind his neck, fingers brus.h.i.+ng into his soft dark hair. "Really? What kind of plans?"

Zane teases a soft kiss on my mouth. "The kind that involve nudity. And lots of s.e.x."

A heady recklessness falls over me as my body responds helplessly to his. "Yeah, you're all talk, and no action."

"Really?" He smirks. "Okay, little girl, you asked for it."

Zane picks me up with thrilling speed and ease. He carries me onto the bed, and throws me down on it, then moves over me.

"How's that for action?" he murmurs, smiling down at me.

I reach up to touch his beautiful face. "You're still talking."

Now there are no spoken words between us-just an intense conversation with our hands and mouths, a small gasp or a moan frequently puncturing the silence.

"Violet." Zane looks intently into my eyes. "I don't want Jenna, or the receptionist-or anyone else. Just you, like this."

Does that mean...?

He slides a hand down my quivering stomach to the b.u.t.ton on my pants. It's only when he's sliding down my zipper that I suddenly remember.

"Wait." I grab his hand to stop him. "We can't. I-it's that time of the month."

Zane pulls his head back a little, and squints at me. "So?"

I make a face. "So...no!"

He groans into my neck. "You're killing me, here, Violet."

"You?" I glare up at him indignantly. "What about me? At this rate, I'm going to die a virgin."

Zane chuckles, and kisses the tip of my nose. "Trust me, I'm not gonna let that happen."

He rolls off of me onto the bed. We both lie on our backs and stare up at the canopy.

"Wow," Zane says after a moment. "This bed is really soft."

"Right?" I sigh comfortably, stretching my arms in the air. "It's like sleeping on heaven."

"You'd like my bed. It's huge."

I roll onto my side to face him. "And will I ever get to see your bed?"

"Well, that depends." Zane tucks his hands behind his head. "Will you bring me breakfast in bed, and perform other girlfriend type duties?"

I raise my eyebrows at him. "Girlfriend...or maid? And...are you saying what I think you're saying? Zane, you're going to have to spell it out for me."

"Really? You're going to make me do it, aren't you?"

"Yes, please."

"Okay, then." Zane turns his head to look at me. "Violet Mercer, will you be my girlfriend?"

I can't stop the giant smile that spreads across my entire face. "Okay! Yay."

He laughs. "Awesome."

I lean over to give him a big kiss. "Now what?"

"Now you put on your s.h.i.+rt, and I'm going to go home and take a really cold shower." He glances over at me again. "Really cold."

He starts to get up, but I grab his hand. "Stay with me tonight," I say impulsively.

I can see him think about it. He runs a hand through his tousled hair and sighs.

"Are you sure you want to run the risk of getting caught?"

"It's worth it," I say promptly. "I want you to stay."

"Then I'll stay."

While Zane takes a shower, I text Mom that I've got terrible cramps so I'm going to bed early. She texts me back with offers of tea and a back rub. Feeling crazy guilty, I tell her I'll be fine, I'm just going to sleep.

I've never really lied to her before these past few months-honest. I've never really had a reason to. But now, well, the guilt and anxiety I feel is worth it. Zane is worth it.

We watch weird c.r.a.p on the internet, and it's just like old times-except that I'm sitting on Zane's lap, wearing just his s.h.i.+rt. I still think it's strange how he's never seen any of these viral videos, considering he works with computers for a living. Aren't all those techie guys usually always plugged into the internet?

Or maybe they wouldn't be if they looked like Zane.

Around midnight, Zane convinces me to go skinny dipping in the pool. We end up kissing more than swimming-then it's cold showers for both of us.

This is...incredibly frustrating, yet...exciting. There's this antic.i.p.ation, building up to a painful level, but I'm certain that when it's time, it will me even more amazing because of the tension. Zane seems to feel the same way, constantly testing the limits of his control by driving both of us to the edge of crazy, then pulling back just in time.

We talk, too. Sometimes, it seems like he's on the verge of telling me something, but then he changes his mind. It makes me obsess over his conversation with Jenna. Why can't I ask him about it? I think I don't want to know. Not yet, not in this moment that is one of the best experiences of my life.

I would've thought I wouldn't be able to fall asleep with Zane in my bed, but it's so peaceful. We lie next to each other, me on my stomach as he rubs my back with his magic hands. I fall asleep, smiling.

Early, the next morning, Zane wakes me up to let me know he's leaving. I insist on walking him to the garage, though I try to use that time to convince him to stay longer. Of course, he can't, and I have to be at school in a couple of hours, anyway.

Zane's dad has a garage full of s.h.i.+ny toys, and I doubt he'll miss the sleek back motorcycle Zane decides to commandeer. He gets the keys from a safe hidden behind a gla.s.s display of a signed motorcycle helmet. I don't know or care whose signature it is, I'm so tired right now!

"Are you sure you're okay to drive?" I ask Zane for the fifth time as he straddles the bike.

He takes a pair of sungla.s.ses and slips them on. "Sure," he says with a lazy smile. "I'll just think about you, and the s.e.xual frustration will keep me awake."

"Oh, that's so sweet."

G.o.d, he looks so hot right now in his leather jacket, and on top of that dangerous looking motorcycle. Like an ad for s.e.xy smelling cologne. Yummy.

Zane gestures me closer by crooking his index finger. I wrap my arms around his waist. He cups my face with both hands, and claims my mouth in a surprisingly gentle kiss.

"Thank you," he says softly, his face just a couple of inches from mine. "I remember who I am when I'm with you."

Serious Zane is just as appealing as the playful one. I try to stare into his eyes through his dark lenses. "That's...a really weird thing to say."

"Yeah." He flashes a wry little grin. "Maybe I'm just too tired to know what I'm saying."

"Huh," I say. "You're a spy, aren't you? That's why you wear contacts and dye your hair."

I'm only half-kidding.

"You got me. I'd tell you but then I'd have to kill you. Later, Violet."

After he drives off, I push the b.u.t.ton to lower the garage door, mulling over the secrets Zane could be hiding. Does it have something to do with his past? He never talks about it, never gives me anything but vague generalizations about his high school years. I wonder what happened. Does it have anything to do with his mother's suicide? Does Bill know about it?

Or maybe I'm just making this out to be bigger than it really is. Maybe the conversation I heard had something to do with work, and nothing to do with me at all.

G.o.d, I hate lies. Especially when I lie to myself.