by Cara Dee
Zack has made me love my own body as it is. He's a ruthless coach, and he forces me to run with him twice a week—because I asked him to be my trainer, and he sure as hell doesn’t relent now—though he's also made it clear that I'm not allowed to lose my curves. Being healthy is one thing, of course, but you don’t have to be a stick figure to be healthy. My boyfriend's words, not mine. Though, I tend to agree nowadays.
"I love you." I reach up and pop a kiss on his stubbly chin.
He smiles down at me. "Love you, too."
I beam back, and he kisses me softly at first, then deeply, so thoroughly, melting me into a puddle of goo.
Since we're in the middle of a hot make-out session when the doorbell rings, Zack just mutters to Luke to get it. "My wallet's on the hallway table," he adds before taking my mouth again. Fingers weaving through my hair, he kisses me hard and hungrily.
In the background, I hear Luke's voice travelling from the hallway, but his words don't register.
One of Zack's hands slides down my body, and he starts playing with the drawstrings of my sweats. He so wants to get inside. Insatiable man of mine. Good thing I'm insatiable, too.
"Um. Guys." That’s Sarah. Then her foot comes out and she kicks my hip.
"Ouch!" I whip my head to her and glare at her as I rub the spot, but her wide eyes are trained at something next to the flat screen.
Zack and I face the direction of the hallway at the same time, and I think our hearts jump up into our throats at the same time, too.
Mom. Garrett. Colin.
"Oh, God," I squeak out. My stomach drops, I flush scarlet, I want to die.
"Surprise!" Colin shouts, clearly oblivious. "We flew to surprise visit! Are you surprised?"
You have no idea, little brother.
"Uh…" Zack clears his throat. In my periphery, I see that his eyes are wide, too, and I watch how his Adam's apple bobs. At the same time, his arms around me tighten almost protectively, and I wonder if he's aware. "You—you're…here?"
Garrett looks like he either wants to throw up or stomp his foot like a petulant child.
Zack and I are still rigid. Too shocked to process a single fucking thing. I don’t even think we're breathing.
"I told you!" Mom slaps his shoulder. "That last day in Aspen—their fighting was way too fake!" She laughs. "Mister, you owe me a hundred dollars and a massage."
Say what?
The End
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