Let's Get Textual

by Teagan Hunter

  “It’s beautiful.”

  “Sure is,” he says. There’s something in his voice that causes me to slide my eyes his way.

  I’m surprised to find him staring down at me with warmth.

  He wasn’t talking about the night sky; he was talking about me.

  I grin up at him and wink. “I know.”

  He titters. “Now who has the big ego?”

  He kisses the top of my head and we lie there together in the darkness until sleep consumes us.

  I wake about an hour later, my mouth dry and desperately in need of water.

  Doing my best not to wake Zach, I wiggle out of his hold. I slide my underwear back on and pull his shirt over my head before quietly sneaking out of his bedroom.

  I make my way back down the stairs, taking my time to observe his home. There are beautiful photographs lining the walls, all of them black and white. I step closer to read the name scribbled at the bottom but can only make out Elliott.

  Whoever he is, he’s awesome.

  I tiptoe down the stairs and back through the living room, finding the kitchen is on the other side. Much like the rest of the house, it’s modern and sleek.

  I open the fridge, laughing at the excessive amount of takeout boxes and beer, and grab a bottle of water. I sip on it as I meander around the kitchen and living room, checking out all the fun gadgets they have.

  It doesn’t take long for me to scope out the rest of the house. There’s another bathroom on this floor along with what I assume are two guest bedrooms. I open the door to one to find Marshmallow sound asleep inside, and I note that Zach’s rigged the room with a sheet of plastic lining the floor and plenty of straw.

  I shake my head, unsurprised that Zach has dedicated an entire room to a goat.

  I quietly close the door, not wanting to disturb Marshmallow, and make my way back down the hall. I’m assuming the other bedroom belongs to his roommate, and I don’t want to intrude.

  There’s a door off the underside of the stairs. Curiosity overcomes me so I peek inside, finding that it leads down into the basement.

  Now that I’ve already opened the door…

  I make my way down the stairs and am genuinely surprised at what I find at the bottom.

  I remember Zach telling me he works in the basement, so when I find two round chairs smack dab in the middle of the room with massive TV screens hanging on the wall across from them, I’m stunned. There are two large cabinets with a mouse and keyboard on each one sitting below them. This doesn’t look anything like an office.

  I make my way over to the inviting chair and settle into it, spinning around in circles, taking in the room.

  It’s so…peaceful.

  I know Zach creates apps for a living, but when he said apps and basement, I was not expecting something so fancy.

  “Are you enjoying yourself?”

  I jump at the sound of Zach’s voice and spin the chair to find him leaning against the wall at the bottom of the stairs, arms crossed over his chest and a smirk on his face. I won’t lie, him standing in only sleep pants, no shirt, has my body humming to life again.

  “This is not a nerd zone, Zach. I’m almost disappointed. I was expecting walls of Mountain Dew, Dorito fingerprints everywhere, lots of dark creepy corners, and about ten different computer monitors.”

  “I told you, I’m a different breed of nerd.” He pushes off the wall and takes a seat in the chair opposite mine. “Want to see what I’m working on?”

  I nod and watch as he grabs a keyboard from the shelf then returns to the chair. He sits there, staring at the screen, his fingers flying over the keyboard.

  “This,” he says when something bright fills the screen, “is the code for a new app for that program I was telling you about at the park.”

  “Embody Positivity?”

  He grins, pleased I remember. “Yep. I’m working on adding a new meet-up function, trying to make it easier for kids to find a safe place to hang and friends to hang with.”

  “Wow, Zach. That’s really awesome.”

  His eyes are focused on the screen as he presses more buttons and brings up several more apps. He takes the time to explain each one, and I can see the pride in his eyes. He takes his work seriously, and it’s clear he loves being a creator.

  Such a shame his ex couldn’t see that, couldn’t see the joy this side of the company brings him.

  “I still can’t believe you developed my favorite sticky note app. I love that thing.”

  He smiles smugly. “You’re welcome.”

  His fingers fly over the keyboard again as he shuts the system back down.

  I swivel around in the chair, and Zach notices my penchant for doing so.

  “You like the chairs?”

  “Like? I love them. They’re stupid comfortable. I could sit down here all day and watch you work.”

  “Watch me work? You want to watch me squint at a screen all day?”

  I nod. “Oh, Zach. You don’t even know how sexy it is. Your eyebrows pinch together and you do the cutest thing with your mouth. Don’t even get me started on how hot your fingers are with how fast they fly over the keyboard. Makes me wonder about things.”

  His brows lift. “What kind of things, Delia?”

  I grin and spin around in the chair again. “Like, you know…things.”

  When I spin back around, Zach’s there on his knees, waiting to catch the chair. He jerks it to a stop and I sit up, our noses now mere inches apart.

  His touch begins at my ankles as he slowly drags his fingertips up my calves, over my knees, and right up along my thighs. He stops at the hem of the shirt I’m wearing.

  “My shirt is sexy on you, Delia.” He grabs the hem and tugs, lifting it up to see what’s underneath, then trails his fingers under the shirt, under the edge of my panties. My legs spread of their own accord, welcoming his exploring touch.

  Moving the material aside, he keeps eye contact with me as he circles my clit with the tip of his finger. I want to close my eyes, want to throw my head back and moan, but I don’t want to miss the way his green eyes light up.

  He knows what he’s doing to me, knows he’s pushing me to the brink right now with slow, methodic strokes. Sweat is starting to form on the back of my neck and I can feel the pressure building up inside me, so persistent that my hips begin to move in time with his fingers, desperate to find the release he’s offering.

  With his other hand, he pulls at my shirt, encouraging me to sit up. He scoots me to the edge of the seat, his lips seizing mine once I’m close enough to him.

  He presses his tongue against the seam of my lips and I open for him as he moves his fingers to my opening and works them inside me.

  I moan into his mouth and he swallows the sound.

  He twists his finger within me as he rolls his tongue over mine. He’s hitting just the right spot and I’m riding his hand.

  I wrench my mouth away and cry out as my body shudders with relief.

  Zach pulls his fingers from me slowly, stroking me a few more times before pulling away entirely. He kisses the tip of my nose and sits back on his heels, a satisfied grin on his face.

  “You’re proud of yourself, huh?”

  I playfully kick at his chest and he grabs my ankle, pulling me down off the chair and under him in no time. His grin hasn’t moved an inch as he hovers above me.

  “Very,” he whispers before kissing me again. “Now, let’s go to bed and stay there until we absolutely have to leave. Deal?”

  “Deal.”

  Sixteen

  Me: Can we please go back to lying in your bed and snuggling? This college shit is for the birds.

  * * *

  Zach: This real world shit is for the birds.

  * * *

  Zach: I’m ready for a break myself.

  * * *

  Me: Oh, idea! Let’s meet for lunch. I don’t have another class until 3. Want to do me?

  * * *

  Me: NO. NO. TYPO! I DID
NOT MEAN THAT!

  * * *

  Me: I mean, I did, but not right now.

  * * *

  Zach: Oh, I’d LOVE to do you. WINK.

  * * *

  Me: And lunch?

  * * *

  Zach: I’d love that as well. That pizza place I was raving about is about halfway. Want to do that?

  * * *

  Me: Let’s get it on.

  * * *

  Me: THE PIZZA! The pizza date!

  * * *

  Zach: Riiiiiiight.

  Me: I’m here. Where are you?

  * * *

  Zach: I’m here. Come over to my car.

  * * *

  Me: This sounds like the beginning of a slasher film. Do you have any candy?

  * * *

  Zach: Just bring your cute ass over here, Delia.

  * * *

  Me: Roger that! On my way, sir!

  I slide out of my car and glance around the parking lot, finally spotting Zach’s sleek black ride at the back. He’s parked nowhere near anyone else.

  Figures—men and their automobiles.

  As I approach the car, he rolls down the window and out pops Marshmallow’s head.

  “Psst. Hey, we have candy in here,” Zach says, grinning.

  “Um, excuse me, you have a goat in there. I’ll get in for a goat way before I get in for candy.”

  Zach mocks offense while Marshmallow makes a loud high-pitched noise and does that cute sloppy goat grin he does.

  I slide into the passenger seat and take Marshy off Zach’s hands.

  “I can’t believe you brought him.”

  “I didn’t want him to miss out on pizza. Plus, he missed you.”

  “He missed me? Or you did?”

  “Okay, it was me. I can’t believe we haven’t seen each other in a week, again. Our schedules are shit,” he complains.

  “They are, but Thanksgiving is coming up and I’m sure we’ll be—” I clamp my mouth shut.

  I almost made plans with Zach—holiday plans. That’s getting serious, and I don’t know about getting serious.

  I bury my nose in Marshmallow’s fur, snuggling him close as a distraction.

  Zach doesn’t let me get away with it.

  “Were you trying to say we’ll be spending Thanksgiving together, Delia?”

  I give the goat another hug.

  “Stop hugging the goat.” Zach plucks him from my arms and sets him in the back seat on the dog pillow he has back there.

  “But he’s so soft,” I whine.

  “What were you saying about Thanksgiving?”

  “I…hell, Zach, I don’t know. I guess I was unintentionally making holiday plans with you. We haven’t been dating long and we’re nowhere near the meet-the-family stage, so I’m not sure why I said anything at all.”

  “I see. And what if I were to ask you to spend Thanksgiving with me and my family? Would you turn me down?”

  My eyes shoot to his. He’s being serious. He wants me to spend Thanksgiving with him.

  “No.”

  The word falls out of my mouth, and I can’t take it back.

  But I don’t want to. I mean it—I do want to spend Thanksgiving with him. Call me nuts, call me stupid, call me whatever the hell you want, but spending time with Zach has quickly become my favorite thing to do. There’s no way I’ll say no to him.

  “Delia, would you like to spend Thanksgiving with me? Meet my parents, my brother?”

  The family. I have to meet the family. Fuck.

  “It’s only my stepmom, dad, and younger brother, no one else. We keep Thanksgiving small. It’s close to the anniversary of my mom’s death, so we don’t go all out.”

  That breaks my heart. After all these years, after another marriage, they still pay their respects to his mom.

  “I don’t want to intrude.”

  “I said I want you there. That’s not intruding. Do you already have plans with your family?”

  “Liam’s heading to his new girlfriend’s place, my mom is going on a cruise—her first vacation in years—and Zoe is spending time with her family. So, no. I was planning to pig out on the couch and surf Black Friday deals, maybe see you the day before or after.”

  “You’re doing Thanksgiving with the Hastings then.”

  “It’s settled.”

  Marshmallow grunts and curls into himself on his bed.

  “So, we going in to grab grub or what?” I ask.

  “I have that covered already.”

  Not even two seconds later, there’s a knock on his window. Zach clicks the button and the smell of pizza wafts into the car.

  “Um…” A guy holding a pizza box bends down, face peering into the car. He flicks his gaze to me and then to Marshmallow. “Right. Um, there’s a delivery to this car?”

  “Yep. I ordered two drinks, ranch, and extra napkins too.”

  “All right here.”

  The delivery guys balances a bag on top of the box and slides it through the open window before handing over the drink carrier.

  Zach grabs the outstretched pizza and drinks and hands over a few bills. “Thanks, man. Keep the change.”

  The kid stands there, dumbfounded. He scratches his head, looking from the receipt to Zach and back a few times before finally shrugging and trudging away.

  Zach clicks the window back up and removes the drinks from the carrier, placing them in the car’s cup holders. He then digs around in the bag, pulling out the napkins and ranch.

  “Good, they gave us enough ranch.” Opening the box, he holds it my way. “Chow time.”

  “You seriously had a pizza delivered to the car as we sit in the parking lot of their establishment?”

  “What? I can’t take Marshmallow inside to eat, so I had to do what I had to do.”

  I shake my head and sigh. “How can you be so cute and so weird at the same time?”

  He shrugs. “It’s a gift of mine. Now, help me eat this pizza.”

  “Don’t have to ask me twice.”

  I grab a slice, devouring it in a few bites. “Holy shit, this is the best pizza ever.”

  “I told you so. Try it with ranch. I had them give me two different kinds.”

  “You and your ranch obsession…” I wiggle my fingers his way. “Gimme.”

  We sit there chowing down on the pizza, nearly finishing the whole thing off before finally declaring we’re full.

  “I can’t eat another bite,” I groan.

  “I can, but I don’t want to be that fat kid that eats the entire pizza with his girlfriend staring at him like he’s a chub monster.”

  Girlfriend.

  I know we decided we were officially dating and all that, but we’ve yet to speak those words out loud.

  “Is that how you’ll introduce me to your parents? As your girlfriend?”

  “I was going to tell them you’re my goat baby momma, but I don’t know if they’d find that as funny as I would.”

  “No, I doubt they would, you weirdo.” I glance back at the still sleeping goat. “Speaking of…are we taking Marshy? Where do your parents even live? I need to prepare if this is a long-ass road trip. How long will we be gone? Should I shave my legs? Should I pack an extra razor?”

  Zach grabs my shoulder and gives me a shake. “Breathe, please.”

  “I can’t!”

  “You can! They live two hours north of here. Yes, please shave your legs—they’re disgustingly hairy.” I playfully slap his shoulder. “Marshy is coming. My mom can’t wait to meet him. And we can stay up there as long as you want. I usually drive up Thanksgiving morning and stay until Sunday afternoon. I do have to work until 3 on Wednesday, but after that, I’m free.”

  “Okay, you’ll have to remind me of all that before we leave, because I’ll be honest, I may even forget who you are these next few days. My professors are being dicks and I have three tests to take before break.”

  “I don’t miss those days one bit,” Zach remarks.

  “I al
ready don’t miss them, but only just over one more semester left. Then I’m free. I have no idea what I’m doing after that, but I’ll still be free, and that’s all that counts.”

  “You really don’t have a single clue?”

  “Welllll…” I draw out. “I do, but I don’t want to put all my eggs in that basket. I’d really like to procure a spot in a smaller company, one that’s still growing, maybe even something freelance? I have no clue yet.”

  “If you want…” he starts before pausing, considering what to say next.

  “If I want what?”

  “I haven’t talked much about this with anyone other than Robbie, but I’m thinking about expanding my Embody Positivity movement…like making it a full-fledged company. I’ll need someone to help with the website and keeping the blog and press stuff up to date. Would that be something you’re interested in?”

  I stare at him, blinking a few times, trying to process what he just said.

  “Is this because we’re fucking?”

  “Um…no. It’s because of the way you looked at me when I talked about the project and showed you the app. Figured you might want to be included somehow.” He holds his hands up. “If I’ve offended you with my offer, I’m sorry.”

  Well I’m a total bitch.

  I groan. “No, no. I was being stupid. I assumed you only offered because I sound desperate to figure out my life after college and you felt obligated because we’re screwing.”

  “Stop saying it like that. You make me sound like a cheap whore.”

  I lean over the seat and whisper into his ear, “We’re fucking, Zach.”

  He turns his head my way, his mossy eyes colliding with mine. His stare is hard, serious. I get lost in the sincerity of them.