I don’t know why I’m expecting him to manhandle me and demand to know why I’ve been MIA. A little piece of my heart turns to ice when I think, he is his father’s son.
Owen is nothing like that man. The only thing they share is their eye color. And their obsession with me…
“Zo, I’m sorry–” he starts before I cut him off.
“I don’t regret kissing you,” I say, staring at his chest. “I just wanted to make that clear. And you didn’t do anything wrong.”
He takes a step forward and tilts my chin up softly. There is nothing but warmth and a smile in his eyes as the sun sets around us. “So it’s okay if I kiss you now?”
I look away as I feel the blush creep up my neck.
We’ve been friends for years and in one night, making one decision pushed us over the invisible line. We’re not just friends anymore. I don’t think we ever really were, but I never kissed him first. We shared innocent kisses throughout our younger years but that was all Owen. I’d always find him staring at me and then he’d lean into me, asking permission.
Something wet hits my cheek and I dart my eyes back to Owen. He’s still looking at me, waiting. My brows furrow until I’m hit again and then I look up.
It’s starting to rain.
A raindrop must hit him next because his head jerks slightly before he tilts it back to look up.
“I’m waiting,” I murmur.
When he brings his eyes back to me, they’re glowing. “Haven’t you always wanted to be kissed in the rain?”
I nod, licking my lips.
When I was sixteen, I read a young adult novel that had a scene where the main characters made up and kissed right when a rainstorm hit. It was beautiful. The chances of that happening in real life are slim. A lot of people don’t like getting wet so their first instinct would be to find shelter, not kiss someone and end up looking like a drowned rat. But that’s the beauty of a book. You get to live in a fantasy world until you reach the end.
“You didn’t get the hint that day. You honestly thought I was just fangirling over having it happen in a book.”
Owen’s lips curl before he licks them and brings his mouth closer to mine.
My eyes flutter closed so my mind doesn’t start to play tricks on me.
His plump lips press against mine for one, two, three seconds and then they’re gone. I rub my lips together like they’re a genie’s bottle and I want him to come out with my three wishes. But he doesn’t.
When I crack my eyes open, Owen is smirking down at me. “More?”
YES!
I chuckle as I fist his sweatshirt and pull him toward me. “More.”
My heartbeat is the only thing I hear when his hand cups my face and he nips my bottom lip. The moment his lips touch mine, my mind goes blank, and I part my lips, his tongue meeting mine.
Owen wraps his arms around me, pulling me against him. His hard body against my soft one feels like I died and went to heaven. It’s a reprieve from the hell I’m constantly putting my mind through.
As our kiss deepens, the raindrops come down harder.
“I could kiss you all day, Zo,” Owen whispers against my lips when we’re both left breathless. “Come back to my place.”
I crack my eyes open when he rests his forehead on mine. His eyes are closed, his eyelashes fanning across the tops of his cheeks. His thumbs rub imaginary circles on my neck, slowly slipping down toward my collarbone.
He opens his eyes and stares deep into mine. “I hate knowing you’ll be driving in the rain. Stay with me. Please.”
I hate driving in the rain. I hate that it worries him.
I hate that I did this to him.
“Echo is making dinner tonight. I can’t ditch her.” I bring my hand up and tap his lips with my finger. “Come over and we can continue this afterward.”
His eyes turn a darker green. “Yeah?”
“I think kissing you became my favorite thing to do.”
What are you doing, Zoë?
What should’ve happened years ago.
He blinks and closes his eyes quickly, smiling from ear to ear. “Making you happy is my favorite thing to do.”
I shiver, the chill in the air mixed with the rain is finally getting to me, but it also has to do with what he just said.
Ever since we were kids he’s been trying to make me happy. When we were seven, he thought I didn’t love him anymore because I wouldn’t tell him why I was sad. He made me promise that I’d always love him and we’d be best friends forever that day.
“I’ll love you forever,” I say softly, recalling that tragic yet sweet moment in our story.
Owen chuckles as he brushes back wet locks of hair. “To infinity and beyond.”
Zoë, Seven years old
I sat on the creek bank letting water dribble over my toes as I stared down at the pebbles underneath my feet. Owen sat beside me; his eyes never strayed from me. He wanted to know why I looked sad. I couldn’t tell.
“Do you want candy?” he asked, offering me a single green Jolly Rancher. It was the last one, I said no. Green apple was his favorite. “I have chocolate too.”
I shook my head and bent over so I could dip my fingers into the water.
Cedar Mill Creek was right behind Owen’s house. We’d walk out into his backyard, take the steps leading down toward all the trees, and then it’s like we’re stepping into a different universe. He said it was our spot because no one knew about it. Today, his father told me that he knew we hid there and he didn’t like it. He didn’t like all the time Owen and I were spending together. He got mad and made me take off my clothes when Owen had to take a bath because he was covered in dirt. Owen’s dad hurt me, but I couldn’t tell anyone. It was our little secret. Mommy and Daddy would give me away if I didn’t keep the secret. Michael kept telling me that so I knew it was true. Daddy said parents never lie.
“Zo, don’t you think so too?”
I looked up and found Owen holding the Jolly Rancher in between his thumb and index finger.
“What?”
“They kinda match your eyes. That’s why they’re my favorite.” Owen dropped his head, mumbling something. When he looked up, his cheeks were red. “Are you mad at me?”
“No, I just don’t want to talk today.” If I talk, I might spill the secret. I don’t want to go away. I don’t want to be away from you, I thought to myself. No one could read minds so the secret was still safe.
His eyes that match the color of the trees surrounding us landed on mine. “Do you not love me today?”
I felt my little heart stop. Why would he ask that? “I’ll always love you. We’re best friends. It’s forever.”
Mommy loved Daddy, they said it all the time. He was her best friend. When I told Owen that, he said he loved me because I was his best friend too.
Owen’s lips spread wide and he puffed out his chest. “To infinity and beyond!” he shouted.
I shook my head and laughed as he shot up and started acting like Buzz Lightyear from Toystory. That was our favorite movie.
“I don’t like when you’re sad. It makes me sad,” he said, grabbing my hand when he came next to me again.
Your daddy made me sad, I wanted to say. But I couldn’t.
When we walked back to his house with our hands joined, Owen made me promise that I’d love him forever. When I promised, he ran up to his room and came back down with a book. Mommy told me to make it fast because it was getting late. “If I’m sad Mom reads this to me before bed to make me happy. I want you to have it.”
I looked down at the book with a black panther and a tiger on it. The Jungle Book was written in big letters.
“But if I have it how will you be happy?” I asked.
Owen shrugged, stuffing his hands in his shorts pockets. “My favorite person has my favorite book.”
I brought the book up to my chest and wrapped my arms around it. “I promise I’ll keep it safe!”
Mommy called out my
name from the car. I had to go.
“Thank you, Owen.” I kissed his cheek and ran to the car, buckling myself in while Mommy watched. “I need your help tonight,” I said matter-of-factly.
“With what, sweetheart?”
“Reading this book as fast as possible so I can give it back to Owen. I don’t want him to be sad.”
She laughed at me, but not in a mean way. “It’s almost bedtime, Zoë. We’ll have to read it tomorrow, okay?”
I nodded as I stared down at the book.
I guessed that meant I couldn’t play with Owen and his friends tomorrow. We always did lose track of time.
And I wanted to read this book with Mommy.
If I’m dreaming, I never want to wake up. Zoë and me…it’s happening. It’s finally fucking happening. God, I never want to stop kissing this woman.
And she’s kissing me back. That sounds odd, I know. But fuck, she never kissed me back. She never showed interest in even wanting to kiss me.
And it’s her favorite fucking thing to do now? Am I alive? Did I die and this is some cruel joke some higher power is playing on me?
Shit, wishes really do come true. All because of that damn fairy dust Zoë sprinkled on me.
I chuckle thinking about that.
It wasn’t the fairy dust, dumbass. That shit doesn’t exist.
I glance up at the back of Zoë’s head to make sure she didn’t hear that somehow. If something is written in a book, it’s real to Zoë. No one can tell her otherwise. She’s supposedly “married” to hundreds of fictional men already. Because I know they are in fact fictional, I let it slide.
Walking behind Zoë as we head into her townhouse shared with Echo, I think about the little things that make her stand out to me. Zoë scrunches up her nose before she laughs. She looks down and shakes her head before she looks up and tells you that you’re wrong. Her eyes always shine, especially when it rains. When she’s turned on, she bites her lip and self-consciously rubs her collarbone twice before reaching out and touching you. I recently discovered that. And I also know that the second my fingertips graze her skin, she looks away. It makes me feel like I’ve hurt her in some way. Like I disgust her.
When the person you can’t get out of your head can’t even look at you when you’re touching, it hurts like a motherfucker.
Maybe that’s why she pushed me toward other women throughout the years. I’ve never looked at anyone because they’re not Zoë. She sets the bar high for me. No one compares. And yet, I still went out with my ex. That whole thing turned disastrous when she constantly told me to detach myself from Zoë because it came off creepy. She was the only person I ever had sex with. She was nice but never again will I put myself through that.
I know who I want. She’s standing right in front of me.
“Owen’s joining us,” Zoë announces when we enter the kitchen. “Is that okay?”
Echo is bent over, pulling something out of the oven. She rights herself and throws a curious look our way as she sets the food down on the counter. “I swear if you say my food tastes like shit I’m going to stab you.” That’s directed toward me. I’m always fucking with her, but the last time she did cook I tried a bit and had to excuse myself while I vomited what little I ate. It’s not her fault, it was the oven’s, she said.
“I’ll behave,” I answer.
“Good, now go change because you both look awful.” She winks at Zoë and shoos her upstairs. When I pass by her, asking if she needs help, she grabs my arm and looks up at me with a faint smile after making sure that Zoë is not around. “If you rush her or force her into anything, I will make your death look like an accident,” she says slowly.
My brows furrow. I don’t know if I should be insulted that she would even think such a thing. “Echo, I could never hurt her. I thought you knew that.”
She nods curtly. “I do. It’s just…she’s my friend. So are you. But she comes first.” Echo lets go of my arm and forces a smile. “I really do love that you two are doing whatever you’re doing.”
I do too.
I nod and move past her, heading upstairs so I can grab my extra clothes that stay buried in Zoë’s dresser. She mostly steals my hoodies but she has gotten her hands on t-shirts and sweatpants. Just the thought of her sleeping in my clothes turns me into an insomniac. Either I have to jerk off or call her in the middle of night in order to sleep. It doesn’t help when she says she’s sleeping in my shirt.
Walking up the last stair, I start to turn left but have to stop short when I see a half-naked Zoë through the small opening of her bedroom door, changing into pajama shorts.
Echo’s room is on the other end of the hallway, and the small bathroom is right in front of me. I don’t know why my legs don’t move. I don’t have to stand here and watch Zoë slip a toned leg into the tiny shorts and then gather her hair and twist it into a little bun, but I do. When she drops her arms and grabs her shirt, her head tilts my way and she stops moving.
We make eye contact for one, two, three seconds and I smile taking one step toward her room. We’ve never been in the same room while changing. Maybe today I can change that?
We’re doing a lot of things differently; I guess that is expected when we’re making out on my bed all night instead of just sleeping.
I’m still not over the fact that I kissed Zoë. And that she kissed me back.
Zoë cracks a tiny smile and walks toward the door, her eyes downcast, and then she pushes the door closed.
Um…
I drop my head and walk into the bathroom, hoping I can take a quick piss and not look like I was just rejected.
Is it the scars? I know some people don’t like other people seeing nor touching them. I don’t give a shit about the scars. Zoë is Zoë. She’s fucking beautiful with or without them.
After zipping up my jeans I wash my hands and head out into the small hallway. Zoë walks out of her room and heads for the stairs. “I left some clothes on my bed for you.”
“Thanks.”
She walks down two stairs before she stops and turns. “Owen.” I take a step forward. “Don’t creep up on me like that. You could have come inside or I don’t know, made a noise. I just…I don’t feel comfortable being watched without knowing someone’s there.”
I’ve never known that. It’s not like I sneak up on her often. “I’m sorry. Next time I’ll knock before I walk in and see if you need any help taking off your clothes.”
Her lips curl up and then I watch one plump lip being pulled into her mouth as she bites down on it. She debates on whether or not to go downstairs. It makes me chuckle and step forward again. “Do you need something?” I ask, watching her eyes shift to me then the stairs then back again.
She drops her head and brings her hand up, rubbing her collarbone once, twice. I fucking love that I know this about her. It kind of lets me know what she’s thinking.
“I think I need a refresher on what kissing in the rain was like,” she admits softly. “But you need to get out of your wet clothes.”
I break out into a wide smile. “Well, well, well, Zoë, are you trying to get me naked?”
“Something like that.” She walks up the stairs and reaches for my hand as she walks by, pulling me with her. Stepping into her room, she shuts the door and looks up at me with shiny emerald green eyes. “Your kiss is like an antidote.”
I cup the side of her face and bring my mouth closer to hers. “Antidote to what?”
“Everything.” Zoë pushes forward on her tiptoes until our lips touch.
I feel her fingers slip underneath my wet t-shirt, her nails softly scratching up and down my stomach before leaving my body completely to roll up my shirt. I help get it off and then my mouth is back on hers, taking as much as she’s willing to give.
When her fingers brush against my skin and she works her fingers around the button of my jeans and lowers the zipper, I groan and pull her closer.
A little squeaky noise escapes her mouth as she jerks
back, giggling. “You’re freaking cold!”
“Warm me up then,” I say, winking as I drop my jeans and step out of them. I pull her back against me, loving how her warmth seeps into my skin.
Next thing I know, I’m being pushed back hard, falling onto the bed followed by a few bounces.
Zoë climbs onto my lap and Jesus Christ she’s rubbing her pussy over my dick painfully slow, and I hate that we’re both covered up, her in shorts and me still in boxers. “Five minutes then we have to go downstairs and see if Echo needs help.”
How did this happen? Am I dreaming? Are we really this undressed? Is she really on top of me? What happened to the Zoë who would take a step back if I touched her? What changed?
Whatever it was, I fucking love it.
Her mouth comes back to mine as she wiggles against me even more and all I want to do is make her feel good. Last time my fingers got too close, Zoë shut me out. I’m not looking for a repeat.
I slide my hands past her hips and grab her ass, pushing her down on me just hard enough to make us both groan as the dry humping continues. God, I haven’t dry humped in years. I don’t remember it being this good.
At some point I hear Zoë whisper, “it’s just us” and then she’s moaning into my ear as she squeezes her legs around me, grinding her hips slower and slower while her body trembles on top of mine.
When she looks up, her eyes don’t go past my lips. “You always make me feel like I’m flying,” she murmurs, her voice breathy and soft.
And that does it for me.
I make her fly while she makes me feel like I’m free falling. At some point we were meant to collide.
For the next few days, Owen comes over to my place and helps Echo and me cook. We learned that Echo actually followed the recipe when she made her homemade Mac and Cheese with bacon the other night so she decided to cook more now, with my help.
I don’t mind cooking, it brings me back to the days I helped Mom in the kitchen when I was younger. I know everything there is to know because of her. Dad was always jealous that he could never cook as great as her. He tried though. And at least the food was edible.
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