Chapter 25
TWENTY-FIVE
A few weeks later, Gia and I sit down to a dinner of prime rib with tomato bruschetta, courtesy of Nicholas—who, as it turns out, is an extremely talented chef.
I’m starting to understand why Mom likes Nicholas so much.
Besides the fact that he attends dance classes with her and takes her on thrilling rides on his motorcycle, they have this chemistry that’s impossible to deny.
They complement each other. When Mom talks, Nicholas nods at her encouragingly, and adds words of support to the things she says.
The way they look at each other is more than just lust—they look at each other with respect in their eyes. They genuinely care for each other.
We’re sitting outside in Nicholas’s backyard, the glow of the bonfire flickering against the night.
Mom and Nicholas sit side by side in red Adirondack chairs, fingers entwined.
Across from them, Mark and Gia are wrapped in each other’s arms, looking every bit the newlyweds.
Smoke curls upward, softening the edges of everything.
I’m staring through the haze, half-lost in my thoughts, when the back gate creaks open.
Someone steps through, a guitar case slung at his side.
Zach.
My heart speeds up and I catch eyes with Mom who grins at me, making me realize she’s the one who must have invited him.
“Look who it is,” Nicholas calls. “It’s Lexi’s coconspirator in Operation Breakup. Hello, matey.” He’s mimicking the accent Zach used in the dance studio, and I’m having a hard time keeping from smiling. Part of me is annoyed that my mom did this. But only part of me.
Nicholas shoots a grin my way. “I forgive you guys, by the way.”
Zach talks to my mom and his dad for a few minutes and then settles into the seat beside me.
It’s been weeks since I’ve seen him, but all of the chemistry comes flooding back.
The ten inches of space between our chairs feels like yards, and the desire to touch him almost overwhelms me.
I squeeze my hands into fists of adrenaline.
I want to crawl into his lap and run my hands along his neck and back.
“How’s it going?” he asks at the same time as I say, “How are you?”
Zach gives me a soft smile that instantly makes my knees feel like jelly.
The energy zips between us and it’s subtle but unmistakable.
It’s like the air has a little extra buzz, like we’re tuned into the same frequency and the static’s just waiting to spark.
I feel it in my chest—in the way my breath catches for half a second longer than it should.
I glance at Mark and Gia, still wrapped up in each other’s arms, and ache for Zach to hold me like that too.
Searching for a change of subject that will allow my body temperature to cool down, I gesture at Mom and Nicholas, who are apparently sharing a very funny joke.
Mom’s got her face buried in Nicholas’s shoulder, and they’re both laughing so hard they might end up falling off their chairs and into the fire.
“I wish I knew what the joke was. It looks pretty funny.”
Zach leans back, amusement flickering in his eyes. “They both find each other very entertaining. Could be a corny knock-knock joke for all we know.”
A few minutes of silence follow.
Zach clears his throat and runs his fingers through his beard. “The last few weeks, not talking to you. That was hard.”
A strange ache presses around my heart, fast and breathless. “I felt the same.”
“It just caught me off guard. The fact that we were so open about everything was one of the things I liked best about you.”
I inhale a sharp breath. I don’t know if there’s any chance of coming back from this, but I want more than anything for there to be a way to go back to how we were before, on that dance floor together when the world around us blurred out of focus.
It was unlike anything I’ve ever felt, and I don’t want to go through any more time without it.
But at the same time, I just got out of a relationship that was nearly a decade long.
If I want what Zach and I have to last, I need to make sure I’m doing things the right way.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t honest with you,” I say, my voice catching with emotion. “I should have told you right away. But at first I was confused and then I realized that I liked you so much that I thought I’d ruin things between us if I did.”
“I know. And at first I was angry after you finally told me, but then it turned more into missing you,” Zach says, reaching out and finally touching my hand.
“I missed you too,” I whisper.
“Are you going to play us some campfire songs?” Nicholas hollers. Worst timing ever.
“I was thinking I might. I haven’t played since that night at Hibiscus.
” Zach takes his guitar out of its case and holds it firmly against his body and I have never wished to be an inanimate object more.
I want to feel his touch on me more than anything else and I don’t know how to get back to that place with him again after what happened between us.
“Here’s a melody I’ve been working on,” he says, and plays a series of chords. Its easy tone relaxes me.
“I love it.”
“I just have to figure out the lyrics.” Zach smiles at me and it feels like an invitation.
Grab my heart and squeeze it a little tighter, Zach, why don’t you?
“I . . . I’d love to,” I stammer. “I’d be honored to.”
“Do you take requests?” Mom calls.
Zach grins at her. “Sure.”
“Can you play any Fleetwood Mac?”
Zach starts playing “Landslide” and singing with that beautiful smoky tone of his and I lean back against my chair and close my eyes because I feel like if I look at him, everyone here will know how much I’ve already fallen for him, mind and body and soul.
After a few more songs and some great conversation, plus a surprisingly solid rendition of “Stairway to Heaven” by Mark on Zach’s guitar, the newlyweds head out. Mom hugs them goodbye and comes over to ask Zach about his music. I leave them talking and head over to Nicholas.
“Thanks for having us over,” I say. “I really hope we can do this again sometime.”
He pats the empty spot on the chair beside him. “Would it be okay if we talked for a minute?”
“Sure,” I say, even though the air suddenly feels a little awkward. I sit down, turning to face him, mildly concerned he’s about to bring up the whole dance class stunt again. The Phantom of the Opera will forever be ruined by that hideous mask.
“I want you to know that what I have with your mom is beautiful,” he says, completely sincere. Earlier, I thought he looked like the forgotten member of a ’90s boy band but suddenly he’s giving off handsome older gentleman energy.
“I love her,” he continues. “This isn’t some rebound or passing thing. It’s real. I don’t want you worrying about her getting hurt.”
“Thank you,” I say. “I mean it. And after spending more time with you both, I get it. And I’m really happy for you.”
Just then, Mom appears next to me, beaming like she’s walked in on a peace treaty. She’s probably thrilled that we’re talking and not dramatically whisper-fighting.
“I’m going to get going. I’m off on a job hunt tomorrow,” I explain. “But I had a really good time, and I want to do it again soon.”
Zach’s got his guitar in its case and stands by the gate, apparently leaving as well.
We say goodbye to our parents and walk together toward our cars.
“Your mom’s pretty cool,” Zach says. “She and my dad seem better for each other than I thought.”
“Your dad’s not the superficial guy I thought he was either. We had a good talk.”
“Maybe we can hang out sometime soon,” Zach says. “I mean, just the two of us.”
I open my driver’s side door. “I’d like that.”
Zach sets his guitar case down on the driveway and steps toward me, wrapping his arms around my waist. I rest my head against his chest, breathing in a mix of his fabric softener and cologne.
When he kisses my forehead, the nearness of his lips to mine sends a pulse of desire through me.
I tug gently on his neck, tilt my head, and kiss him, hungry, unhesitating.
Our tongues find each other, teasing and tasting, his hands sliding up my back, tracing down my sides until they find my breasts.
“Is this okay?” he breathes.
“Yes,” I whisper, before I slam the driver’s side door shut and pull open the backseat.
We tumble inside, shedding clothes in a rush, like we’ve both been waiting too long for this.
Zach unhooks my bra, his fingers circling my nipples before his mouth replaces them, slow and deliberate. A soft gasp escapes me.
His hand trails lower, fingertips skimming the waistband of my panties, then slipping underneath. I arch toward him, my body making the decision before my mind can catch up.
“Are you sure?” Zach murmurs.
Instead of answering, I pull my panties down and meet his gaze. That’s all it takes. He grabs a condom and then he’s back, so close his breath brushes my cheek. The air feels charged, the space between us narrowing until there’s nothing left to wait for.
“Fuck me, Zach,” I whisper.
He slides inside me, and I let out a long exhale I hadn’t realized I was holding.
I forget we’re in a car—it’s like we’re suspended outside of time and space.
All I can focus on is the feeling of him, the sounds we make, the taste of his skin against my lips.
We move together, faster and faster, perfectly in sync, until I’m not sure how much longer I can hold on. I’m so close to release.
“I really missed this,” Zach murmurs against my ear.
“Me too,” I manage, right before the wave hits me and everything shatters. He follows a heartbeat later, both of us collapsing into the cramped space, slick and spent.
“Holy shit,” Zach says, voice hoarse.
I let out a shaky laugh. “You’re good at that.”
“You should talk,” he says, threading his fingers through mine.
I wish we were in my apartment, and we could just lie in each other’s arms, and then go for another round in a little while, but instead we’re in my car like a couple of teenagers and my mom and Zach’s dad aren’t all that far away.
“What do you want this to be?” Zach asks after we both finally catch our breath.
“What I want and what I need might be two different things.”
“I want us to be together,” Zach says as I reluctantly put my clothes back on. “I know it may be weird because of our parents . . . but I like you. I want to see where this goes.”
My stomach flutters. These are the words that I—maybe subconsciously at first—wanted to hear for so long and now he’s saying them with so much sincerity that I believe it with every part of me.
But there’s just a little nag of hesitation that’s lingering, stopping me from being truly happy in this moment.
Am I ready to jump into another relationship this quickly?
I wanted time to rediscover myself. Can I do that at the same time that I get to know Zach?
He pulls on his clothes and reaches for me again. His skin is warm and there’s a zing even in the energy between our hands. “Do you need more time?” he whispers, pressing his lips against my temple.
“I don’t want to need time, but I want to feel like I really have my life together before I do this.
” I grip his hand like my body’s afraid to let him go even though my mind thinks otherwise.
“With my last relationship, I jumped in headfirst but this . . . this feels unlike anything I’ve felt before. ”
“I feel it too,” Zach says, and suddenly we’re kissing again and neither of us shows any sign of wanting to pull away.
“I’m going to miss you,” I whisper.
“I’ll be there,” Zach says. “When you’re ready.”
We hold each other for several minutes longer before I finally pull away. “I’d better go.”
A few minutes later, as I back out of the driveway, Zach gazing at me as I pull out into the road, I wonder if this new, annoyingly wise part of me is wrong about needing to put this on pause. I wonder if I’ve just made a huge mistake.