One Size Fits All

by Courtney Cole

  Vanessa’s still smiling when she opens the door to her torture chamber. “I get yelled at all day long. I’m used to it. You’ll be back, though. They always are.”

  I waddle halfway into the waiting area before Keely notices me. She’s too busy chatting up the guy sitting in the chair next to her to ask me how it went. “Is it your turn, or will you take me home now?”

  “Nope, I’m still good,” she says with an annoyingly chipper smile.

  Once we’re back in her car, I rest my head against the window, the coolness of the glass a welcomed relief on my overheated cheeks. I’ve never handled pain well, and today was proof of it.

  I forgot all about my bag until we’re sitting in front of Dylan’s house.

  “Is he home?” Keely asks.

  “Will you text him and see? I don’t want to get out of the car unless I have to.” Mostly because I don’t want my pants to rub against my crotch more than they have to.

  Keely pokes at the screen of her phone with the tip of her acrylic nail. She hits Send and waits for him to respond. A few seconds later, the front door opens, and he’s standing on the other side without his shirt on again.

  “Looks like he’s home. And half naked. Do you want me to wait?”

  “No, you’ve done enough. Go be evil to someone else for a little while. I’ll talk to you when I decide to forgive you.”

  “You’ll thank me, Zoe. You’ll see.”

  She doesn’t wait for me to get inside, speeding away as soon as my feet are on the pavement. Dylan opens the screen door, sticking his head outside. “What happened?”

  “I forgot my bag.”

  “No, I mean why are you walking like an old man?”

  “Broken vagina.”

  “What?” He holds the door open when I get closer, letting me squeeze by him.

  “Have you seen my bag? I can’t believe I forgot it.” I forgot it because he was too busy planting sexual thoughts in my head. If I didn’t know better, I’d think Keely and Dylan were in cahoots.

  “It’s on the table. Where’d Keely take you?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it. I need to get back to my dorm and pack up all the boxes that are waiting for me. I’d rather take the bare minimum home with me for break and leave the rest in the new house if that’s okay with you. Unless you think we shouldn’t. I just figured if it snows while we’re home, it’ll make moving that much harder. Actually, are you staying home the whole winter break or coming back to the house?”

  “You’re rambling, Zo. What has you so worked up?”

  “My crotch is killing me, Dylan. Fucking killing me. Now, will you be here or not?”

  He sputters for a few seconds, trying his best to respond to me without tripping over his tongue. “I’ll be at the new house after Christmas passes. I’m moving in as much of my stuff as I can before I go home. Do you know what you’re doing?”

  He slides a shirt over his head and grabs his keys off the hook on the wall.

  “I hadn’t thought about it until now, but after Christmas passes, I’ll definitely be back for New Year’s. You’re the only one entertaining enough to stay up with me to see the ball drop. My parents always fall asleep.”

  “Good, it’ll be our first party in the new house. Come on, I’ll drive you back to the dorms.”

  I scoot through the door ahead of him, looking over my shoulder. “I don’t think you can really consider two people a party.”

  “Sure you can. You’re all I need to have a good time.”

  “Ditto,” I tell him, even though goose bumps break out on my arms underneath my down coat. I never used to react when Dylan said nice things to me, but lately, it’s happening more and more. Instead of scaring me, it only confuses me and blurs the lines. I like organization too much to be able to handle what his words do to me, so I try to pretend they never happened. It’s easier that way.

  Groaning as I get into the car, Dylan looks at me like I’m crazy. “Are you sure you’re okay, Zo?”

  “Vanessa says I’ll be fine.”

  “Who’s Vanessa?”

  “The girl who waxed me.”

  “Waxed you? As in… down there.” His eyes fall to my crotch, and I can’t tell whose face flushes first. All I know is my cheeks are on fire again.

  “It was Keely’s Christmas gift. Apparently, it’s the gift that keeps giving.”

  “Fuck,” Dylan whispers. “You shouldn’t have told me that.”

  “Why not? Because it’s Keely?”

  “No, because it’s you.”

  “Right, definitely weird. Sorry.”

  He looks like he’s about to jump out of the car and find the closest bar, but he keeps driving until he’s in front of my dorm with his blinkers on. “Thanks for the ride.”

  “No problem. Let me know if you need anything.”

  “I might need a couple more boxes, but for now, I’m good.”

  I’m about to close the door when he leans closer to see my face. “Hey, Zo?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Why’d Keely do that to you now?”

  “Long story short, it’s time to give it up. I figure it’s a good New Year’s resolution.”

  “Your resolution was losing hair?”

  “No.”

  “I’m confused.”

  “Maybe Keely got into my head a little, but she had a good point. Life is busy now, but once I’m in medical school, it’s only going to get busier. If I’m not careful, I’ll end up being known as the virgin doctor with ten cats and a giant ball of yarn.”

  “Wait, this is about sex?”

  I cover my face with my hands, wishing I could melt into the sidewalk. “We’re not having this conversation, Dylan.”

  “Don’t do it, Zo.”

  “Don’t do what? Sex? I don’t even know how to sex.”

  He grips the steering wheel and nods, his eyes boring straight into mine. With more conviction than I’ve ever seen him have, he says, “Yeah, just don’t. Please.”

  I’ve had guys beg for sex before, but I’ve never met one who begs me not to do it. Maybe there’s something I don’t know about myself that I should. Or maybe I missed a key point along the way. Regardless, Dylan is staring at me like sex would be the worst possible idea I could ever have.

  Before I can ask him why I shouldn’t, his phone rings, interrupting our conversation. He takes the call, so I close the car door, hobbling into the dorm. In desperate need of a shower, my pride’s a little battered and bruised.

  What am I missing?

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Dylan

  Had it been anyone other than my mother, I would have ignored the call and given Zoe enough of a reason to keep her from screwing someone for the sake of screwing.

  It’s not that I’m attracted to the fact she’s a virgin, it’s that she has standards. Ones she’s never lowered or changed for as long as I’ve known her. Even if she’s failed to stand up to Keely when she should have, she never once let her get inside her own head.

  There’s nothing I can do other than physically locking her in her new room and never letting her out, but even that wouldn’t stop a girl like Zoe. She’s determined when she sets her mind to something, and I’d do anything to make that girl happy.

  It’s probably why my car ends up in the parking lot of the pet shop. Tonight, I’m going to start bringing some of her boxes to the new house. All I really care about is having her right where she should be—to show her she’s finally home.

  After walking through a few aisles, I spot what I didn’t realize I was looking for—a beta fish. It’s unique, just like her. And its defiant spirit symbolizes the same love of freedom I see in Zoe’s eyes when she talks about her dreams.

  You can’t hold her back, just like you can’t stop a beta fish from jumping out of its bowl and landing on the table. I would know—mine used to do it all the time.

  A half hour later, I’m home wit
h everything I need to make Zoe feel welcome in our new home. I give her another half hour to pack before I call her, hoping she picks up. Every minute she’s not with me is a minute she could be pulled toward some guy’s bed.

  On the third ring, she answers, though out of breath. “Dylan?”

  “Hey, I know I just dropped you off a little while ago, but I thought I’d bring some of your stuff to the house tonight.”

  “Okay, I have two boxes done. I can carry them down to the front desk and wait for you.”

  “Leave them where they are. I’ve seen the way you pack. You’ll break your back.”

  Two of Zoe’s boxes hold enough stuff for four. I swear it’s a game to her to see how much she can stuff under the flaps before she sits on it and tapes it shut.

  “You’re probably right. These aren’t too bad, though.”

  “How are you feelin’?” I regret asking as soon as the words leave my mouth. Mostly because I’m back to thinking about her naked. And a naked Zoe would be perfection.

  “A little better, actually. I don’t hate Vanessa as much, so that’s a step in the right direction.”

  “Good. I’ll be there in fifteen.”

  “Okay. I’ll keep packing until you get here.”

  I watch the fish swim in circles before I pull my pathetic ass off the cold floor and turn the heat up a little higher.

  The entire drive back to the dorms, I can’t help but feel like I’m going to pick up my girl. With her, it’s always been so easy. I don’t have to be anyone other than who I am around her. There’s no pretending or trying to live up to superficial standards—we accept each other for who we are. Quirks and all.

  Once I’m on her floor, I hang by her door, not wanting to scare her by barging in. I peek my head inside, spotting her hunched over a box with her ass in the air. It does nothing to help my Zoe craving. “That’s a different way to pack.”

  She jumps as soon as she hears my voice, falling off the box and onto the carpet, landing on her back. “You scared me.”

  Laughing, I hold out my hand to help her up. “Never would have guessed.”

  Once she’s back on her own two feet, she says, “After we drop off the boxes, can we get some food? I haven’t eaten much today.”

  I figured I’d take the boxes and leave, but I love that she wants to spend more time with me. “Sure, what are you in the mood for?” I ask even though she’ll tell me the same thing she does every time I ask her. If it’s not her favorite turkey sandwich, it’s something spicy.

  “Mexican. Can we get takeout from South of the Border? I have a menu around here somewhere.”

  “I think we both know the menu by heart. And you’ve been ordering the same meal for three years.”

  “I can’t help it, Dylan. When I find something I like, I stick with it.”

  More than ever, I need those words to be true. As she closes up another box, I realize I have exactly what I’ve always wanted—even if she’s not officially mine.

  I’m about to have her under my roof but mark my words, I’ll be in her heart if it’s the last thing I do. I’m tired of watching and waiting from a distance. I just need her to say when.

  THE END…Or maybe it’s only the beginning.

  Stay tuned for the rest of Zoe and Dylan’s story in the full-length romantic comedy, Say When, coming soon.

  About The Author

  Gia Riley is from the small, but mighty state of Delaware. She’s a lover of all things romance – a firm believer that everyone deserves their happily ever after.

  When she’s not writing, you can find her roaming the aisles of Kirkland’s, up to her elbows in Play-doh, or trying to hunt down spoilers for her favorite TV shows. She loves reality TV almost as much as she loves a good chick flick. She’s also hopelessly addicted to Starbucks and the revolving menu of specialty drinks.

  You can connect with Gia on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram. She also has a website for you to follow her.

  If you’re on Facebook, feel free to join her reader group, Gia Riley Book’s. Stop by anytime, she loves hearing from readers!

  Here’s where you can find her:

  www.authorgiariley.com

  giarileybooks@gmail.com

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  http://bit.ly/1wP8bwn

  Other Work by Gia Riley

  Contemporary Romance

  Rock the Boat

  Rock the City

  New Adult Romance

  Lighter

  Weightless

  Young Adult Romance

  In Pieces

  Barking Mad Love

  By TJ Burton

  Copyright © 2016 Tammy Andresen

  CHAPTER ONE

  “You have got to be kidding me.” Kathryn Stewart closed her eyes, counting to ten. Things just kept getting worse. She blamed her mother, really. All growing up, the woman had drilled in her head the importance of being a Good Samaritan. Now she was knee deep in, well… it wasn’t shit, but it was probably worse.

  The dog next to her whimpered in pain and Kat automatically made a move to pet her. Poor thing. She put her hand back on the steering wheel. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to pet the dog, it was just that she was a thousand miles from home, travelling to see a man she barely liked. That wasn’t even the worst of her troubles. Her job was in tatters, her landlord hadn’t renewed her lease so she had no place to go back to and…

  Lucy whimpered again. “I’m sorry, girl. Hang in there.” She would be so relieved to see Luke’s face even if she did hate his guts. How had her life turned so completely upside down?

  It had started a month ago, on a warm June day, when she had come across a stray dog in the park on her morning run. The mangy thing had looked so pathetic. It whimpered and crawled towards her, pulling on those heart strings her mother had carefully instilled in her chest. The ones she always tried to cover. Unable to refuse, she had loaded the animal in her car and brought it to her friend’s veterinary clinic.

  Carl was her best friend, they had graduated from Boston University together. Sophomore year, they had lived on the same floor, and had flirted incessantly but, somehow, never dated. Then, they had both stayed near Boston. He went to Tuft’s Veterinary School and she got a Master’s in Education.

  They saw each other less since he had gotten married but they were still close enough that she could call him without thinking. “Carl, I need your help. I found a stray and I don’t know what to do with it.”

  “You can call animal control, if you want. They’ll come take the dog,” he replied too neutrally into the phone. There must have been something he wasn’t telling her.

  “Where would the dog go after that? Would it be taken care of? Would they find it a home?” She glanced in the rearview mirror again. The dog had stretched out on the seat looking completely at home.

  “They’ll try, if they think it’s healthy enough or if they’re not too full.”

  “And if they are full or the dog isn’t healthy?” A little panic crept in her voice.

  Carl, on the other hand, had that soothing, tone that doctors used to calm their patients. “Why don’t I open the clinic for you? You can bring him in and I can have a look.” That tone helped Kat, too.

  “Her, I think it’s a her. I’ll be there in forty-five.” She hung up the phone looking at the mangy animal in her back seat. Its soulful eyes stared pathetically back.

  Under the layers of dirt, she looked like she could be beautiful. A short snout and floppy ears that begged to be pet.

  Kat climbed out of her Accord and crossed the small parking lot to Carl’s Mendon Clinic. He stood on the front step waiting for her. It was a small building in a rural town but it was getting a reputation
for excellent small animal care.

  “You look fantastic,” he said by way of greeting, along with a peck on the cheek and a big bear hug.

  “You’re full of shit,” she replied in return. She had been running when she found the dog. Now her hair was limp and her clothes crumpled and damp from sweat. But she still knew what he meant. She had finally lost the nagging ten pounds that had been plaguing her since college.

  “Seriously, you’re taking good care of yourself. You should be proud.” Carl wiggled his eyebrows at her.

  She chuckled. “Thanks. You look great too. Married life agrees with you.”

  “That it does. You ought to think about getting married. It does a body good.” He flexed, wiggling his eyebrows again. He had always been a ham. It made him a great doctor and a fun friend but Kat had always had trouble taking him seriously. Maybe that was why they had never dated.

  “Let’s not start that!” She gave an exaggerated sigh. She didn’t mind his ribbing but today it struck a cord. She had been feeling the same way lately. It would be nice to have someone to share her life with. She had watched as all her friends, including Carl, had gotten married. They were all busy with their own lives. “Want to meet my new friend?”

  “Absolutely. Have you given her a name yet?” He craned his neck to see in the back seat.

  “God no! I’m not keeping her. I just didn’t want to turn her over to strangers. Especially not knowing what they might do with her. I thought maybe you could help me find her a home.”

  “Maybe,” he replied evasively. “Let’s have a look.”

  “How come the clinic is closed?”

  “It’s my day to open late. I did surgery well into the evening last night. Peggy is already here, feeding and walking the dogs that had to stay over.” He opened her door and out came the mangy girl. It had short brown hair with a streak of white between its nose but it was matted and dirty. Her short nose sniffed the air with hesitation. The poor thing was rail thin but its back stood taller than her knee.