I'll Make You Mine

by Gia Riley

  She may think I knew about our parents, but I didn’t. That night we walked in on them, I was in shock, too. I’d never keep something like that from Zoe.

  I’m glad she’s strict with her schedules because she takes her turn in the bathroom as soon as I’m done, leaving plenty of time for her to see the message before it disappears. Normally I don’t wait in the hallway for her to finish, but I’m hoping tonight will be different—that she’ll want to come to bed with me.

  She must expect me to be standing here waiting, because I get half a smile. It doesn’t reach her eyes, but it’s more than I’ve gotten in days.

  I’ll take it.

  The words I was hoping to hear never come, and I’m left leaning against the wall, staring at the fluffy towel wrapped around her body.

  “Zo?”

  She doesn’t turn around to look at me; she just faces her bedroom door with her hand on the knob. “Yeah?” is all I get.

  All the words I want to say to her are competing for their place in a sentence, and they get all jumbled up. The only thing that manages to come out is a simple, “Good night.”

  The same response is tossed back and my fist almost bashes into the bathroom door. I wasn’t supposed to chicken out like that. I was supposed to get my girl back.

  She left the light on above the shower, and when I step inside the bathroom to turn it off, I see something I wasn’t expecting—a response on the mirror.

  “I love you, too.”

  She retraced my words and added the ending.

  As long as she loves me, I’ll be patient. I’ll wait until she comes to terms with our parents’ relationship, not that I have a choice. I need her too much to give up.

  Sometime in the middle of the night, the bed dips and the blankets shift. Warm vanilla sugar washes over me and I’m positive I’m having another dream about Zoe.

  Only it’s not a dream. In the morning, she’s still lying next to me with her hands clutching the pillow.

  Afraid that she’ll run if I wake her, I just watch, hoping she’s moved beyond all the things we can’t change. I must fall back to sleep because the next time I open my eyes, she’s gone, and I wonder if I imagined the whole thing.

  But there’s proof on the pillow—a little slip of paper that says “I miss you.”

  Grabbing the first pen I find, the fuzzy one with the dangling heart, I add on to her message the same way she did to mine.

  “I miss you, too.”

  Once I’m finished writing, I leave the scrap of paper on her pillow.

  Our paths never cross the entire day, and I have no idea where she disappears to. By the time she comes home, I’ve already showered and missed my chance to leave her another message in the steam. She skips the bathroom entirely and goes straight to bed.

  I wait for her to fall asleep and then I climb into her bed, loving that she left my side open like I’m supposed to be sleeping there.

  Before I close my eyes, I set my phone to vibrate an hour before she usually wakes up. When it goes off in the morning, I slide out of bed like she did the night before, careful not to wake her.

  Today, I don’t leave a note on her pillow or write in the fog on the mirror. I make her breakfast—eggs, pancakes, the works. The kitchen doesn’t get burnt down, and the food is edible thanks to all the practicing I’ve done this week.

  I sit at the table, waiting. And then I wait some more, staring into my coffee mug, watching the little coffee ground that escaped the filter spin in circles.

  She must tiptoe into the kitchen because I don’t hear her until she says, “What’s this?”

  Her voice is cautious, even a little worried. “Breakfast.”

  “Who cooked?”

  “I did.”

  “No, really. Who made this?”

  “I did. Come here, Zo.”

  She sits in her usual seat at the table and eyes the meal in front of her. “Is your mom here?”

  “Do you really think I’d bring my mom here? I’m trying to get you back, Zo, not send you running.”

  “I’m not running,” she whispers. “And you didn’t lose me. Not even a little.”

  “I thought you wanted to leave.” My head’s been all over the place. As soon as I’d convince myself she wasn’t going anywhere, the doubts would come back. I can’t lose her.

  “I’m not leaving, Dylan. This place is all I have left.”

  “This is your home. I found it for us.”

  “I know,” she says. “And I’m so thankful. I want to be here.”

  I believe her. Even though she’s staring at her plate, she’s not lying. She’s just nervous and doesn’t know what to do with her feelings. “Okay.”

  “Okay,” she repeats. “Did you order from the diner?”

  Laughing, I shake my head. “No, I told you I cooked.”

  “But it looks fantastic. What happened?”

  “YouTube. I’ve had a lot of time on my hands.” You wouldn’t believe the things you can teach yourself online. I’m almost positive I could play “Mary Had a Little Lamb” on the guitar if I owned one. And I’d probably be able to knit a scarf, or at least a pot holder.

  “You learned how to cook?”

  “I think so. You can be the judge.”

  She takes a hesitant bite before swallowing. She doesn’t grab her water glass or heave on the table, so I take that as a good sign.

  “It’s amazing, Dylan. Why did you do this? You don’t like to cook.”

  “I needed a grand gesture. Something to get your attention.”

  “You watch too many movies.”

  “You’re the one who makes me watch the chick flicks. I can’t help what my brain absorbs.”

  After a couple more bites, she’s tried everything, and sets the fork down on the plate. I’m ready for her to walk away again, but she doesn’t. She stands, pushes my coffee mug away from the edge of the table, and sits down.

  She looks me right in the eye and says, “I’m sorry.”

  I know that took a lot for her to say, and it means everything to me. But there’s no reason for her to apologize. “Don’t be sorry, baby. You’re allowed to feel.”

  “You came into my bed. I felt you.”

  “You came into mine.”

  She smiles and it’s more progress. “I liked the mirror messages. They’ve stopped.”

  “They don’t have to stop if you don’t want them to.”

  “I don’t want them to. But I was hoping we could shower together next time.”

  “God, Zoe. I’ve missed you so much.”

  “Touch me, Dylan,” she whispers. “I just want to feel you again.”

  I grab her hips and set her on my lap so she’s straddling me. Her shirt’s lined with buttons and I have no patience for any of them, so I yank the material apart until they’re scattered around the kitchen floor.

  “My buttons,” she says as she watches one bounce off the front of the stove.

  “I’ve always wanted to do that.”

  “Dylan.”

  “I’ll buy you a new shirt.”

  “I’d rather wear one of yours.” She licks her lips like she can already taste me. I want to suck on her bottom lip so bad I can taste the peppermint.

  “What do you want, Zo?”

  “You.”

  “Do we need the book for this?”

  “I don’t know,” she says as she swallows.

  “Why are you nervous?”

  “Because you’re flirting with me and I can’t think straight.”

  I love that even after knowing each other for so long, we still have that. That moment where you forget to breathe, and when you remember, it’s almost a second too late. “What do you want to do tonight?”

  “What? Why are you changing the subject?”

  “I’m just trying to give you a chance to catch your breath. Answer me.”

  “I dunno,” she says. “You pick.”

  “We could stay here. Or we can go to Trevor’s. He’s
having people over.” I wrap my arms around her and get lost in cupcakes and icing. It’s the best body wash ever.

  “Like a party? You’re sniffing my boob.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Yeah, what?”

  “Yes it’s a party and yes I’m sniffing you.”

  “You’re so weird. The last party didn’t go so well. Will Letty be there?” she asks with a twinge of jealousy in her voice.

  I dug my own grave on that one. But after the way I reacted to Kyler, I understand where she’s coming from. It’s painful as fuck to see someone else touching her. “She’ll be there, but you have nothing to worry about.”

  “You mean that, don’t you?”

  “I do. You’re my girl.”

  “We can go to the party.”

  “You’re sure? What changed your mind?”

  “The fact that you’re not going to touch me until we agree on plans.”

  “I like the way you think.” I haven’t touched her yet, and already my pants are tight. It’s been one long damn week.

  Love always takes its time, and with Zoe there are so many ups and downs. Some days it’s hard to tell which direction we’re moving. There’s no mistaking our path today. We’re on the same page of the same novel, and she’s about to write the ending.

  From the looks of it, I think it’s definitely one of her favorite happily ever afters.

  Dylan

  Zoe keeps ahold of my hand the entire walk to Trevor’s house. Her smile and laughter are a welcomed change from the last week. Though as soon as she spots the porch full of people at the party, she slows down and her mood changes. “This is bigger than I thought it would be,” she says with a voice full of nerves.

  She’s so anxious she’s squeezing the hell out of my hand. I can’t blame her, though, this isn’t her scene. The only reason she came was to make me happy. “Don’t worry. We can leave whenever you want.”

  Trevor and Josh spot us first, and they both yell my name loud enough to draw attention. I give them a silent nod back, making sure Zoe’s okay.

  “Dylan, they’re staring.”

  “Because you’re so hot.”

  She rolls her eyes but loosens her grip. This isn’t the kind of party she’s used to, Trevor’s parties never are. But she seems okay with the drinking and the smoking. Or at least she doesn’t comment about it. The dancing is a different story. That she looks the most unsure of.

  She pulls on her strapless pink shirt, trying her best to put material where there isn’t any. “We’ll get a drink and go downstairs. It’s chill down there.” She doesn’t say a word, just continues to trust me as I lead her into the kitchen. We should have come in the other door because Letty’s standing next to the bar, her outfit consisting of a black lacey bra and skin-tight pants that make her look cheap.

  Zoe fidgets and runs her fingers through her hair even though it looks fine. “Don’t,” I whisper in her ear.

  “Don’t what?”

  “Don’t compare yourself to her. That’s not what I want.”

  “I’m trying,” she says. And then she stares at the stack of cups on top of the speaker. As far as I know, Zoe hasn’t had a drink since she got wasted with Kyler.

  “You don’t have any powder in your pocket do you?” I ask her with a smirk.

  She punches my arm and shakes her head. “Dylan, I’m not like that. Well, not unless your name’s Chaz.”

  “Just checking,” I tell her as I pull a plastic cup from the stack and dump two ladles of spiked punch inside.

  Letty saunters by the drink table and Zoe’s eyes follow. Zoe takes the cup from my hand and dumps vodka, straight from the bottle, into the cup.

  “Don’t,” she says when I raise my eyebrows.

  “I didn’t say anything.”

  “You were about to.”

  “Have at it. It’s a party.” Maybe I’m a shitty boyfriend for not stopping her, but if she wants to get drunk, I’ll stay sober for the both of us.

  “If you’re okay with it, why are you looking at me like that?”

  “Like what, Zo?”

  She hesitates and then says, “Like I’m making a mistake.”

  “Because that cup in your hand is angry—because of Letty.” How many times is that girl going to get in our way? Zoe has to believe me. I don’t want Letty. I never have.

  Mentioning her name was the wrong move because Zoe hands me the drink and takes another cup off the stack. This time, she uses less punch with way more vodka.

  “Are you trying to make yourself sick?”

  “It wasn’t angry enough,” she says as she sips the punch.

  Fuck me.

  I shouldn’t have brought her here. We’ve only been talking for less than twenty-four hours. Granted it had nothing to do with Letty this time, but there’s bad blood there, and Letty can’t come between us again.

  “Come on, Zo.” The basement is mellow compared to the scene upstairs. Trevor’s playing pool and some others are playing video games on the far side of the room. Music fills the space and Zoe takes a seat on the sofa, tucking her legs underneath her as she cradles the cup in her hands. Her drink must taste like shit because her face twists after every sip.

  Trevor tosses me a pool cue. We normally play when I’m here because I sure as hell don’t dance. That’s Letty’s territory. “Zo, come sit by the table so we can talk.”

  “I will in a minute,” she says as she rubs her arms to warm up. There’s no heat down here.

  She’s never worn a shirt like the one she has on. Her exposed shoulders are sexy and the sparkles from her lotion line her collarbone. While I love that she’s trying something new, something outside her comfort zone, she doesn’t need to wear less for me to want her more. Nothing about her wardrobe will change my feelings. It’ll only get me into a fight if someone looks at her the wrong way, appreciating what’s mine.

  Like right now, three guys by the window are checking her out. Just so there’s no confusion about who she came with, I lean down and kiss her shoulder and then her mouth. She groans against my lips and nibbles at my bottom lip.

  I fucking love when she does that.

  “What was that for?” she says when I pull away. I could ask her the same thing. She was leaving her mark just as much as I was leaving mine. Her pupils are so dilated, her eyes are on fire, and it has nothing to do with the alcohol.

  “If I want to kiss my girl, I’ll kiss her.”

  Her smile doesn’t last long because Letty’s cackle knocks it off her face. Zoe watches as Letty takes her time walking down the basement stairs, demanding attention with her grand entrance. Once she reaches the bottom, her eyes land on me.

  Zoe takes a couple gulps of her drink, and I hate that she needs alcohol to get through the night. This party was the wrong choice. “Do you want to leave?”

  “No,” she says as she gags a little. “I’m fine. Go play your game.”

  I take off my button-down shirt and hand it to her. “You look hot as hell but put this on if you’re cold.”

  Her dark eyes peer over the top of her cup, and I can tell the alcohol will be working in my favor when I get her home. “Thank you,” she whispers.

  Those brown eyes stay on me, watching as I take each turn. I glance in her direction, just to let her know I’m thinking about her and that I feel her from across the room. But she knows. She’s always known.

  “Yo, pay attention, fool.” Trevor digs in his back pocket and pulls out a folded-up piece of paper. “I had to show you this killer deal I found.”

  It’s a brochure for an all-inclusive in Mexico. The resort we’ve talked about since freshman year. We couldn’t afford to go someplace every spring break and figured we’d do it up big before college ended.

  Life was different as a freshman, though. I didn’t have Zoe. And I wasn’t paying for a place to live. “You still want to go?” I ask him.

  “Josh’s sister works for some travel agency now. The rates she got us are killer.�
��

  “I haven’t thought about spring break. I’ll probably stay local and visit my mom.”

  “You have to come,” he says. “We’ve been talking about this trip for four years.”

  Letty joins the conversation and peers over my shoulder as she says, “I’ll be there, Dylan. Come. Unless your girlfriend won’t let you.”

  “I don’t need permission, Letty.”

  “Good, so it’s settled. You’re staying with us. It’ll be even cheaper that way.”

  “Define us,” I tell her.

  “Me, Trevor, and Josh. We need a fourth. There’s two bedrooms.”

  It doesn’t surprise me Trevor’s down with Letty staying with him. I see the way he looks at her, like she’s so close to being his. This trip is an opportunity for him to snag the girl. I get it. I used to look for those opportunities with Zoe all the time. But either Trevor’s blind, or he’s ignoring the way Letty looks at me. And it bothers me none of my friends considered Zoe or that I’d want her there.

  “Trev, I can’t go. It’s not the right time.”

  “What the fuck?” he says as he stuffs the brochure back in his pocket. “It’s Mexico.”

  Out of respect for Zoe, I say nothing else about the trip. And then I take my next shot.

  As soon as the ball’s in the corner pocket, Trevor starts up. “I know you love her, but this is it, man. The last spring break we’ll ever have together.”

  “If I asked you to go someplace with me and leave Letty home, would you?”

  He takes a step back when he realizes I have a point. “No, I wouldn’t.”

  “And I wouldn’t leave my girl home, either.” This stupid conversation has me worked up, and I miss the next shot by a mile.

  Trevor sinks his last ball in the side pocket and sets his cue on the table. After draining his beer, he pops the top on another. “Are you sure this is a forever thing? I like Zoe, but her sister’s the fun one. I still can’t figure out why you dumped her.”

  “Trevor, I’m warning you. Stop before you say something you’ll regret.”

  “I’m just saying, Zoe’s sitting over there like she doesn’t want to be here. Keely would be the life of this party.”