Текст книги "Dizzy"

Автор книги: Nyrae Dawn

Соавторы: Jolene Perry
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Текущая страница: 6 (всего у книги 13 страниц)

Eleven

~ Dylan ~

Damn. I knew she had a good body, but… toned legs. Lots and lots of toned legs. Long, lean waist. Perfect, slender curves. And if I thought her neck was sexy before, it’s nothing like how it is now. The single strand of hair I wanted to touch has turned into several, and I can’t decide if they should all be put up or if the way they touch her cheekbones and neck would make it worth keeping them down.

I’m seriously close to embarrassing myself, so I shift to make sure nothing’s poking out.

Derrick coughs, and I jump. Her eyes are on me. Shit. I definitely wasn’t looking at her face. Hopefully, I’m not supposed to be answering a question, because I definitely didn’t hear anything.

“I just stopped by because we have a cake appointment, and…” Derrick trails off like he not only takes orders from Lora, but from Ziah, too.

“Well, I’m not missing cake testing, and I really want out of these shoes.” I swear she stands up even taller than before.

I take that as an invitation to check her legs again. I mean, they’re right there. A guy can only be so strong.

“So, we’ll see you guys there?” she asks.

“Sounds good,” Derrick says.

“Wait. Weren’t you supposed to be doing this today, too?” Ziah’s hands go on her perfectly curved hips as she shifts her weight.

“The tailor said he wouldn’t be ready until tomorrow,” Derrick says.

“Damn.” Ziah sighs. “I really thought you two were being tortured today—just like me.”

I am. She just doesn’t know it.

“We’ll see you girls in a few then.” Derrick’s hand grabs my shoulder with a little too much force.

“Yeah. See you.” I glare at my brother before smiling at Ziah.

When she turns, it’s all curves again, and a lot of bare back. Derrick slaps the back of my head as Ziah steps back behind the curtain.

“What the hell’d you do that for?” I ask as I rub my head and try to get my hair to sit right again.

“Wipe the drool off your mouth, and don’t. Even. Think. It.”

I start to protest, but it’s probably pointless. “Whatever,” I mumble. “She’s not my type.”

Derrick snorts as he pushes open the door. “Her and her sister have the same body. That’s everyone’s type.”

I want to make a smart-ass comment about Derrick checking out his fiancé’s sister, but I keep it to myself. Maybe I’ll save it for later. Instead I go back to thinking about Ziah and her mile-long legs and wondering what they’d feel like under my fingertips.

***

Lora steps into the cake shop followed by Ziah, and even though she’s in jeans and shoes, all I can see is that damn dress. Her long waist. Her perfect body. Toned calves, shaped thighs. And the shoes. Holy hell if girls knew what shoes like that did to their legs… actually, maybe they do. It’s a pretty good weapon for them to have.

I need to kick this girl out of my head and run as far away from her as I can get. Mary and I need to find an open road somewhere and forget about brothers, sisters, and T-shirt wearing girls who should not be sexy, yet somehow are.

Oh, and said girl is going to be my sister-in-law? It’s not creepy and against the law, I remind myself. It’s not like we’ll be related by blood, but I also don’t think my blood should be flowing to specific parts of my anatomy so powerfully when I’m around her either.

I need to focus on her jeans instead of those bare legs.

“I got lured into lame wedding stuff with the promise of cake, didn’t I?” Ziah sighs, keeping her eyes on Lora.

“You’re not the only one.” I give my brother what I hope looks like a friendly slug, but he winces. I hit my mark just right.

“You did.” Lora grabs Ziah from the side and kisses her temple as she laughs.

“Eww. Weren’t your lips JUST on his?” Ziah makes a face and rubs the side of her head.

“Grow up, Ziah.” Lora rolls her eyes, and then leans close to her sister. “Let’s start with the chocolate…”

They ooh and aah over flowered cakes that don’t look like food. Lora more than Ziah, but they’re definitely getting along better. And Ziah looks happier. I figured I was stepping over a million boundaries when I said something to Lora, but I really didn’t want any more of Ziah crying in Mary. And I was trying to be nice to her since Derrick has it in his head that I’m not. Maybe he doesn’t realize how much I’m not saying. That could shut him up.

I look over and see Derrick and Lora interacting with their typical vomit-inducing sweetness. Ziah’s got a scowl on her face again, but this time I know it’s not for me. Doesn’t mean I don’t want to give her a hard time.

Or study her lips.

Yeah, that sounds pretty fun.

“You should definitely taste this.” I hold a piece of cake out to her. I’m totally screwing myself over here, too, because I’m tempting myself with something I can never touch. But damn it would be fun.

“Yeah, like I’m going to eat food out of your hand.”

“Why? You scared? Thinking you’ll like it too much?” I wink at her for good measure.

“No, I’m just not an idiot.”

“It’s incredible.” I move it closer. “Strawberry.  Come on, Hanes. Don’t be a wuss. We had a truce. I’ll be nice.” She licks her lips, and I could swear she’s doing it on purpose. “Like I said… Unless you’re scared.”

“I’ll be good, and even put it on a fork.” It’ll still work this way. I set the bite down before I put it on the fork and hold it out to her again. Ziah shakes her head, but then she opens her mouth and takes the bite.

I groan because that? Yeah, totally hot. Derrick gives me a quick look like he can read my mind, but I ignore him.

“You’re right. That was delicious. I’m marking it down as one of my favorites.”

I fork another bite and give it to her. This is torture, but sexy. And it’ll be a lot more fun in a minute. When I get to the third bite, I think she’s enjoying this just as much as I am. When she opens her mouth this time, I pretend I’m going to feed her the bite. At the last second I let the fork take a turn and get cake all over her nose.

“Dylan!”

She grabs a napkin to wipe it off her face, and all I can do is laugh.

***

By the time we hit the third bakery, I never want to see another damn cake again. Derrick and Lora have argued vanilla vs. chocolate, chocolate vs. strawberry, filling vs. no filling vs. blah, blah, blah. I’m really not seeing what the big deal is. It’s a cake.

“I want to die.” Ziah closes her eyes, her arms hung limp at her sides.

“Agreed.” I’m as low in my chair as I can get, my hands resting carefully on my bloated stomach.

“Three quickie locations, and then you two can do whatever you want.” Lora gives her sister a too-bright smile.

I groan. “Are there even any more cake flavors out there to taste?”

“It’s not about the flavor, it’s about how they’re made, too.” But Lora’s quiet. Maybe worried about how I’ll react or something.

“Lora. I can’t move. I’m serious,” Ziah protests.

Lora’s eyes widen. “I warned you when you were eating full slices instead of the samples that this was going to happen.”

Or when I kept feeding her extra bites off the fork.

“Get up, you big wuss.” Derrick mock-punches me in the gut, which means I flinch, which means I’m reminded of every bite of cake I’ve eaten since lunch.

Lora leans over and whispers in Derrick’s ear. His body slowly gets closer and closer to hers, and his smile gets bigger and bigger. I don’t even want to know what they’re planning. Thank God I can’t hear them. Nauseating.

I’m about to cough or something because I really don’t want them to start going at it in public, but then I decide I don’t do subtle. “Dude. Cut the foreplay.” I kick Derrick’s foot.

Lora smiles her sales-girl smile. I’m immediately suspicious. “Derrick and I thought maybe if you wouldn’t mind running Ziah home, we could do the locations tomorrow? So you two have a choice. You can hang with us and do locations and have tomorrow off, or come with us tomorrow to check out three spots.”

“I’ll do tomorrow,” Ziah says.

“Agreed.” With the way those two are looking at each other, I think they need some alone time, pronto.

I slowly stand. “It’s just you and me, Hanes. In a battle to make it home before I die of cake consumption.”

“Perfect! You’re a trooper, Ziah.” Lora plants another kiss on her sister’s head.

“Yeah. Yeah.” Ziah waves her off.

“I just don’t know how we’re going to decide.” Lora sighs as she surveys the table of half-eaten cake slices.

“Then don’t.” Ziah shrugs. “From the pictures you have pegged all over your magazines, the place will be full of flowers. Why don’t you just do a bunch of cakes, decorate them all a little differently but a little the same, stick them on a table, and then people can have choices.”

It’s actually a good idea, especially since no one around here seems to want to make a decision. Lora and Derrick exchange a look, and I’m willing to do anything to not have to re-test any more cake. “Great idea,” I add.

Both Lora and Derrick are nodding and smiling, and I’m thinking this is one part of this damn wedding I won’t have to do again.

“You’re a genius!” Lora grabs Ziah in a hug, making her groan. “I think we’re done with this part then, if that’s cool with you.” She bats her eyes, and Derrick eats it up.

“Cool with me, baby.”

“Great with me, because this means we can go already.” I give Ziah a wink before I really think about it, and then realize maybe I shouldn’t have. Then I remember what she looked like in that damn dress and the way she licked her lips before biting the cake.

Totally shouldn’t be going there. Why the hell did we have to go in that dress shop anyway? We could have texted them from the car out front, and then I wouldn’t be thinking about her so much.

***

“I keep forgetting to ask.” Ziah’s slumped low in Mary’s seat, hands resting on her stomach as I drive her home.

“About what?”

“Hanes?”

“Mmm.” I knew that would bite me in the ass eventually.

“Why do you call me Hanes?”

And now I’m back to conflicted, because we’ve actually started to get along. I’m not sure I want to risk angry-Ziah coming back if I remind her how she used to hate me. “My party. When we met. You got all pissed over a T-shirt, so I just thought of you as Hanes.”

“Been thinking about me for that long?” she teases, and I remember her saying that before. She’s been thinking about me. I like it until I realize what it might mean, and then I wonder if I should be panicking.

“We’re here.” I stop my car in front of her house, and I suddenly don’t want my night to be over. Or maybe I’m thinking I should run screaming.

“So, there’s this Hitchcock marathon on tonight that I’m gonna watch.” She almost winces. “Actually, that was probably a totally nerdy thing to admit.”

“Really?” Hell. I haven’t told anyone I watch old movies, and again, Ziah’s into the same thing.

“Wanna join me?” The words sort of sputter out, and that to me says she’s nervous, which in turn makes me realize I should be nervous, drop her off, and run away.

“Okay.”

What the hell? Why is it every time I try to say one thing to her, something else comes out? “I mean, I guess. Sure. I can participate in your nerdy activities with you.” Hmm, not too bad. Nice cover, Gibson.

Her eyes narrow at me. “You know what? Never mind.”

She’s definitely not supposed to say that though.

“I’m kidding! Plus, you’re the one who said it was nerdy. I just agreed with you.”

Forget the fact I’ve probably seen every Hitchcock movie there is. More than once. She doesn’t need to know that.

“You know you’re a bit spastic, right?”

I open my mouth to give her what’s probably a really stupid excuse that I haven’t even taken the time to figure out yet, but she cuts me off.

“But, considering it’s probably much more depressing to watch movies alone, I’ll take my chances at dealing with you and your personality flips.”

I have to hold in a laugh. She’s funny, but I’m not sure I want her to know that. “So basically it has nothing to do with you actually wanting to spend time with me? You just don’t want to be alone. I have that about right?”

“About.” She gives me a half-grin.

I return it. “That’s a relief because that’s pretty much the only reason I agreed. I mean, neither of us can hang out with our siblings because they’re attached at the mouth, and like you said, friends don’t let friends watch movies alone.”

“Except we’re not friends, remember?”

Damn, she’s good. “Acquaintances? Almost-strangers? Pizza-venting buddies? I’m running out of options here so take your choice.”

I hate to admit I’m kind of having fun with her. It’s the last thing I need or want, but as long as I focus on who she is and not who she is in the dress, maybe I’ll be good.

She gives me a girl eye roll. It’s almost like ‘the look.’ Not in the grumpy way, but in the how-do-all-girls-do-that-so-well way. “How about we just go inside before we miss the beginning of Rear Window?”

“Ugh. Always being logical.” I’m already opening my door and getting out. My body feels a little primed, like it thinks it’s going to be getting something it shouldn’t. Totally not going there. Not with Hanes.

Dress.

Okay. Probably not going there with Hanes.

“I think we’re two schmucks who let our love of cake drive us to run another wedding errand.”

“Agreed.”

Her house is small and kind of old-fashioned-looking. There’s this huge, floral chair in the corner of the living room that looks like it’s as old as us, but honestly, it also looks comfortable as hell, all pillowy like you could sink into it. Big enough for two, too. Chill out, Gibson. Totally not supposed to be going there.

“Not what you’re used to, I’m sure.” She eyes me as I look around her house.

“No, that’s not what I was thinking. I was…” Thinking we’d fit real well on that chair together. Yeah, I’m not thinking that’s a good idea. Not just because of the fact that she’s a girl, and as shitty as it sounds, I can’t make myself trust them. Not really.

But also because I’m really not looking for her knee to meet my balls. I can bet that’s what would happen. Because first of all, she’s not even sure if she likes me or not. Second, the James thing probably screwed her up a bit.

Oh, that gives me another reason to stay away. Screwed up doesn’t sound like something I’m able to deal with.

But I helped the other day…

“Let’s just say you don’t want to know what I was thinking.” I wink at her, and she turns pink. When all else fails, the embarrassment/compliment thing always works.

“Boys are so weird.” She shakes her head. “Makes me wonder all the more what my sister is thinking.”

She starts to walk toward the kitchen, and I follow her. It’s huge, and the only modern-looking thing about the house. “That only leaves one option. Thinking of switching teams?” I tease.

She cracks a smile, and her eyes crinkle at the same time. I can tell she’s not sure if she wants to be annoyed with me or if she thinks I’m funny. Personally, I think she should go with the latter.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“You like it.”

“No, I’m just using you for movies and because you’re my only ally on Team Sanity, remember? Everyone else is all pro-wedding and stuff.”

A laugh breaks out of my mouth. A huge laugh. My gut starts to ache because I’m cracking up so much. “Team Sanity? That’s fucking awesome.”

She’s seriously funny. I wonder if she sees it. I’m not sure if a girl has ever made me laugh as often as she does. Granted half the time she’s pissed at me, but the times she’s not, she’s freaking funny. Or maybe I’m just on edge being around this girl, and laughing is the only way to get rid of it.

“You’re not a full card-carrying member yet, but you’re the closest I have.”

I can see her try to fight her laugh, too, but then she just lets loose. It’s crazy to hear her laugh. It’s so different than her regular voice and sort of… alive. Which sounds absolutely stupid, but that’s the only word I can think of.

“I’m pretty sure you just gave me a compliment, Hanes.”

She shakes her head. “The Hanes thing has to go.”

“Aww, come on. You know you like it.” I sit at the small table in her kitchen.

“Hungry?” she asks.

I’m wondering how the hell she still has room in her stomach, but I’m not about to be outdone.

“Sure. What do you have?”

A stack of menus lands on the table. “I don’t cook.”

“Isn’t your mom a chef?”

One of her brows goes up. “Hence the reason I’ve never learned to cook.”

I laugh again. Maybe she’s not so bad.

Twelve

~ Ziah ~

Hot party-guy is in my house. For pizza and a movie. The same day he totally checked me out. And then, just when I thought it would be weird that he looked at me like that, we stuffed ourselves sick over cake, he got it all over my face, and being around him got easy again. Too bad the whole liking someone thing isn’t for me.

We’re halfway through a large pizza and the first movie. I thought about trying to get him in the big chair with me, but that would be stupid on a million levels. Instead we’re on the worn, beige couch.

“So, you’re not one of those salad girls, huh.” He shoves another slice in his mouth.

“Salad is for rabbits. I eat real food.”

Dylan didn’t admit it, but he’s obviously seen this movie before. I can tell because he’s into it but doesn’t jump when he should. Not that I think he’d be jumpy, but it’s just a feeling I get.

He looks at me a little too long again, and I know I should be running away from this, but I sort of don’t want to. It’s been so long since I’ve been around someone who made me feel like they liked what they saw. And since just a look from him gave me the happy let’s-get-closer tingles. This is harmless. Just hanging out and flirting. Part of me starts to wonder if I could be the kind of girl who hangs out and makes out and then is all normal and pretends it never happened.

Or maybe I just wish I could be that girl for Dylan.

Or maybe I still wish I could be that girl for James, and it just feels good that Dylan’s watching me the way he is.

When he starts talking again, I’m staring at his lips as I think about the kissing and forgetting and the happy tingles and the wanting.

And then I remember James and Alyssa, and my sister’s stupid wedding. And I want to take Mom’s car and run away from all of it for a while. So maybe I shouldn’t be teasing Dylan about being spastic.

We’re nearing the end of Rear Window, which gets all kinds of intense, but it’s still not as intense as just sitting next to Dylan. I wish I could just get over it and kiss him already, but that thought sort of scares me still because it’ll end worse than with James. Even if it was a good idea, which it isn’t, there’s no way I’d have the guts to do it anyway.

But then, without thinking, my hand rests on the couch between us, almost touching his leg. What am I doing? Did I seriously just make a move? He’s so still, but I can tell he’s watching me because I can see him glance my way out of the corner of my eye. Now it’s hard to breathe, because I’ve sort of unintentionally made this awkwardness with my stupid hand.

In the movie, the bad guy breaks into the apartment right as Dylan jumps off the couch.

“Scared?” I tease, because it’s better than thinking I’m being rejected. Again.

“No… I gotta go. I forgot I have this… thing. Yeah, a thing I have to do.”

It’s total bullshit. I know it, and he knows it, which is why his body’s tense like he just drank ten cups of coffee. And now I just sort of want him to go.

“A thing?” I can feel my scowl, and I’m not sure how to stop it or if I should stop it.

“Yep. A thing.” His eyes hit mine, and I swear we’re having another moment where I love the way he’s looking at me and shouldn’t. He shifts his weight a few times before he turns and walks out.

As the end credits roll, I think I’ve just had the most confusing day of my life.

***

It’s the next morning, and I still don’t know what last night was. It was more like a date than anything I’ve done since I can remember. I don’t know if I wanted it to be a date or not. Part of me does, and part of me totally doesn’t. The self-preservation part is smart enough to know I’d be in way over my head with someone like Dylan. It goes back to the whole experience thing. First, knowing what happens when I like guys, and second, knowing my experience is a few kisses, while I don’t even want to see what Dylan’s list looks like.

This confusing guy stuff is what I need Alyssa for. I’m just not sure how to deal with her yet. Unfortunately, I have one day to figure it out, because school starts tomorrow.

I pull out my phone and dial. I mean, I can’t avoid her forever. We’ll all be back in school, and… and maybe I’ll have to watch her and James kissing in the hallways.

“Ziah? Finally! I’ve been trying to get through. I want to talk, and—”

My heart cracks again, and I hang up. I thought I was ready to talk, but I’m obviously not there yet. My phone rings almost immediately, but I silence it. Then get a text.

ALYSSA: PLSE Z. LET’S TALK, OK?

I’m not at all ready to talk to her. Or James. The guy who was supposed to be safe.

Dylan flashes through my head. Definitely more exciting than James. I’m not sure why I was stupid enough to think something might happen between us last night. I’m also not sure why I thought it would be a good idea. The damage done by James is probably tame compared to what Dylan could do.

First off, Dylan’s going to be my brother-in-law. Second, just LOOK at him. He’s not going to stick around. Third, I’m not myself around him. I’m not the girl who loses her breath when a guy gives her a hand out of a car or off of a car or really anytime. Four, he’s mental—totally fun one minute, then moody and quiet the next. Five, the fact that I wasn’t afraid to totally flaunt how I looked in that dress could lead to dangerous things for me. Six, I think last night sort of proved he’s not into me. I mean, I’m not an idiot. I think there was something there, but if he wanted it, he wouldn’t have taken off. And he did.

Once again rejected before anything got started. Which is good, because I really, really don’t want to start anything.

Lora comes in the front door, her stack of wedding magazines in one arm, and flops next to me on the couch. “Help?” she asks.

I groan as I sit up. This is not on my agenda. Moping is on my agenda. I’ve probably looked through all of these a million times. Announcements, flowers, party favors, pictures of honeymoon destinations I’ll never see…

“Look. I’m painfully aware that you don’t give a shit about my wedding, Ziah. You were mad about the dress and didn’t even seem all that excited about cake after the first stop. But I do give a shit, okay? If you need to talk to James to straighten yourself out, then do it. If you need to deal with Alyssa, then do it. But don’t ruin this for me!”

Her pile of magazines drops to the floor before tears start falling, and Lora spins back around slamming the door behind her.

What just happened?