Seven #2
“Maybe I wasn’t very clear, so let me try again.
” Turning me around so I’m facing him, Zac tilts my chin until our eyes meet before he says, “I will share anything with you; what I will not share, under any circumstances, is you.” His stare is so intense, sincere.
I think he actually means what he is saying—well, he has me believing, anyway.
“Okay, look, I don’t know what this is,” I say, pointing between the both of us, “but if you won’t share, then I won’t be sharing either.
So, wherever your little black book of women is, Mr. GQ…
” I turn my voice sugary sweet before adding, “…do us both a favour and lose it now, otherwise you might just have more bodies to bury.”
“Where the hell have you been all my life, sunshine? You might not know what this is, me and you, and that’s okay, because I know.
This is us always having a tomorrow, together.
” He kisses my lips ever so lightly before stepping back.
“Finish getting ready. I’m going to check on Ella before we head out. ”
Zac pulls up into a carpark out front of the café. I go to open the door and he grabs my hand. “Wait here,” he says before jumping out and walking around the front of the car. He opens my door, but before he lets me out, he says, “You should always wait for me to open your door, sunshine.”
Does he think we’re living in the 1930s? “Zac, that’s sweet, it really is, but I know how to open doors and I don’t need anyone to do things for me. I’ve been looking after myself since I was five years old, even opening my own doors.”
His face tenses up as he holds his hand out for me. Once my hand is in his, he helps me out. “We will come back to that statement when we have more time.”
It doesn’t register with me that Zac is still holding my hand and walking me into the café until I see the table with Sarah, Holly, and Reilly, all of whom have bugged out eyes pointed towards me and Zac. Stopping, I tug on Zac’s hand to pull him back, so he turns and looks at me.
“Zac, you can’t crash girls’ brunch. I’ve seen you naked and you’re definitely missing the parts that make you a girl. Also, I’m certain you are not gay, although you sure are pretty enough to pull that off if you wanted to.”
Zac laughs. “I assure you I’m not gay, and if you want me to, I’m more than happy to prove it to you anywhere, anytime.
I don’t plan on staying. I just wanted to walk you to your table to make sure you got there.
I’ll be back to pick you up though. I programmed my number in your phone.
Make sure you call me when you’re ready to leave, please. ”
Well, that does it… I think I will do anything he wants when he adds that please on the end of a request. “I’ll call you.
I promise. Thank you.” He kisses me like no one is watching, and to be honest, I get so lost the moment those lips of his meet mine, I couldn’t even tell you where we were at that very moment.
My only care when he’s kissing me is how I can keep him kissing me longer.
Before I know it, Zac pulls away from the kiss. “See you soon, sunshine. Have fun with your friends.” He gives me that panty-melting smirk and walks out. I’m left standing in the middle of the café, watching him and trying to figure out why I feel like a part of me went with him.
If I thought my friends would be kind enough not to bring up the fact that they just watched what was one of the best kisses I’ve received in my life, I was sorely mistaken.
The moment I sat down, I put myself in the firing line.
All three of my best friends are speaking, mostly at me rather than to me, at the same time.
I have answered none of their questions, choosing to sit here quietly, observing the three of them and basking in the feeling of Zac still lingering on my kiss- swollen lips.
Looking at Holly and Reilly, most people wouldn’t be able to tell them apart; only those who are close enough to know the very subtle differences know which twin is which. They share the same tall, thin stature, long, wavy, fiery-red hair, pale skin and green eyes.
The differences: Holly has a tiny freckle under her left eye; she also almost always wears her hair up, and has a more reserved personality than Reilly. Holly is a kindergarten teacher. She loves kids, she loves love, and she dreams of her fairytale happily ever after.
Reilly is the more outgoing twin, absolutely no filter and no awareness of social appropriateness.
She has confidence busting out of her in spades.
Although, if I looked like that, I probably would too.
She flaunts her body and would tell you it’s her best asset, but it’s not.
Reilly doesn’t like to show her pure, genuine and loyal heart, but she has one of the kindest hearts I know.
She will go above and beyond for the people she cares about.
She’s also hopeless when it comes to men. She falls in love quicker than a one-click purchase on . However, as soon as she starts to feel something for someone, she leaves them in the dust, never staying with one person long enough to get too attached.
This thought stops me in my tracks. Is that what I’ve done with Zac?
Not that I’m in love with him… I don’t think so.
I mean, how can you love someone you only met the day before?
I’m not a believer in insta-love; I don’t subscribe to the whole idea everyone has a soul mate and when you meet them, you’ll just know.
But there is something different with Zac.
He brings out feelings I’ve never felt before.
Maybe it’s insta-lust—that definitely has to be it.
“I’m in lust with Zac.” I realise I said that out loud too late; it does however stop the three of them. They’re all staring at me with their mouths hanging open. “What? I said lust, not love. Close your mouths before the flies get in.”
Reilly is the first to speak. “Well, duh. You’d have to be blind to not be in lust with that fine piece of ass.
I mean, damn, girl, I’m gonna need deets: how big, length, and thickness.
” She stops talking once she notices the fact that I’m not smiling.
I am, however, about to jump over the table and claw her eyes out.
I shake my head to clear the jealous rage that seems to take over my body and soul when she started describing Zac as another random guy we’d see in passing.
“I’m not giving you deets, and you should keep your thoughts about him to yourself from now on—for your own wellbeing, that is.”
I can see the shocked faces of my friends. I’ve never spoken to any of them like this. I don’t recall ever being this mad at any of them. I know I’m being irrational, but I just can’t seem to help myself.
Reilly looks at me and smiles. “I think you’ve finally been hit with the love bug, Lyssa.
I’ve been waiting for this day to happen.
We need to celebrate. I’ll get the first round of mimosas and then you can tell us all about this Zac that we,” she says, pointing to the three of them, “apparently may not appreciate in any way, form, or manner that’s not pure and platonic. ” She gets up and heads to the counter.
“I’m not in love with him!” I declare to Holly and Sarah, both of whom just look at me with disbelieving grins.
“Of course, you’re not in love. Despite what my sister thinks, it takes longer than twenty-four hours or a night of good sex to fall in love.” Holly doesn’t sound like she believes her own words.
“You both know Reilly can’t tell the difference between being in love with someone and being in love with someone’s cucumber. You,” Sarah says, pointing at me to drive her point further, “are most definitely in love with the man. I can tell.”
“I like him, maybe even like him a lot, but it’s not love!” I defend myself.
Reilly comes back with eight mimosa glasses. “You know there are only four of us, right? And it’s only like 10:30 a.m. not p.m.” I raise my eyebrow at her.
“Well, we are celebrating the fact that you’re in love, sorry lust, for the very first time. This is only the first round.” She hands everyone a drink and then, holding hers up, she toasts, “To being in lust and not love!”
Taking a sip, I savour the flavours that hit my tongue.
Just as I put my glass on the table, my phone plays the chorus of “Stuck Like Glue.” I just stare at it.
It stops and then plays the chorus again and the girls all start laughing and singing along at a not so quiet level.
I can feel the redness creep up my neck as I slowly die of embarrassment.