Zip, Zero, Zilch
Page 20

“A-all of my w-weight is on y-you,” I stammer. I close my eyes and take a breath.
“I know, and it’s kind of awesome.” He smiles. “And so is hearing you talk.”
“W-we’ve b-been t-talking all night.”
“Not the same,” he whispers. “I’ll take what I can get, but I’d rather have you, exactly like this. Except naked, maybe.” He chuckles.
I’m already naked. He just doesn’t realize it. I put my hands against his chest so I can push back, but he takes my fingers, threads them with his, palm to palm, and holds tight.
“Kiss me.”
I shake my head.
“C’mon,” he teases.
I want to kiss him. I want to kiss him so bad.
“You know you want to.” He grins.
I’ve kissed him before. Hell, I’ve passed him a condom before. But we never went any further.
“You’ve never kissed me. You know that?” He lays his head back against the couch and looks at me from beneath lowered lashes.
“I h-have so,” I sputter.
“Nope,” he corrects me. “It was always me kissing you.”
I’m certain I’ve kissed him before.
“Kiss me,” he says again. He jostles me with a bump of his leg beneath my bottom. “Don’t make me beg.” He laughs, but it’s not funny.
I pull my hands free and take his face in my palms. I stare into his beautiful eyes, and I know he likes me. I am just not sure I’m worthy. I run my nose up and down the side of his, trying to decide if I want to do this. I bring my mouth closer to his, so close that his exhale is my inhale. We’re sharing air. I touch my lips to his.
Suddenly, there’s a knock at the door. I jerk my eyes toward the door.
“Fuck.” He breathes out on a sigh going soft under me, like the air was just let out of the balloon that’s his body.
“I’ll get it,” I say. I push back off of him and get up. My knees are wobbly and I’m sure my cheeks are red.
I look through the peephole and I’m suddenly really happy I didn’t kiss him.
I open the door and say, “I think it’s for you.” I close the door behind her. “I’m going to bed. Good night.”
I turn and go into my room, closing the door behind me, although I want more than anything to leave it open so I can hear them. But then again, there’s a part of me that doesn’t want to hear anything he has to say to the cheerleader. Not a word of it.
Sam
Fuck. I finally get Peck talking to me—with no tapping—and Amanda shows up at my door. Uninvited. I haven’t seen her in months. Not since we broke up, aside from her brief visit at the hospital. Peck turns and goes to her room. She closes the door behind her and I sincerely doubt that I’ll see her again tonight.
I pull a pillow from behind my back and jam it over my quickly softening hard-on. I motion toward my foot. “Forgive me if I don’t get up,” I say.
She waves a hand through the air. “No, no, don’t trouble yourself.” She walks over and bends, quickly kissing my cheek. I have to fight not to wipe it off. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything.” She looks toward the guest room and jerks a thumb in that direction. “Who was that?”
“A friend.” I try to smile at her, but I’m afraid it probably looks more like I’m gritting my teeth, which is exactly what I’m doing.
“Oh,” she says.
I scratch my head. “Did you tell me you were coming over?”
She shakes her head, her gaze avoiding mine.
“How did you get up here?” The doorman should have stopped her.
“Apparently, you forgot to take me off the list.”
I’ll take care of that tomorrow. I swipe a hand down my face. I am suddenly so tired. And I want to go and talk to Peck some more.
I force myself to speak very quietly. “Amanda, why are you here?”
“Do I need a reason?”
“Yes.” I say it without even thinking. And I don’t want to take it back.
She rolls her eyes. “Honestly, I wanted to talk to you about the photos in the tabloids. Of us.”
“Which ones?” The ones that claim I got her pregnant? Or the ones where I hit her? Or the ones where I impregnated an alien and then the alien put the baby inside her?
“The baby ones.”
I look at her flat stomach. “Are congratulations in order?”
She heaves a sigh. “Yes.”
A tear rolls down her cheek and shocks the hell out of me. “Oh, God, Amanda,” I say. I bring my foot down and lean forward. “When? How? Whose is it?”
She flops onto the couch. “Don’t worry. It’s not yours. And I’m not keeping it.”
My insides unclench. Not that I was worried, but for a minute I was seriously worried. “Okay,” I say slowly.
“See, the thing is…” She bites her lower lip between her teeth. I used to find that so sexy. But it’s not. Not on her. Not now.
“It’s Andrew’s,” I say. It comes out more as a growl.
She nods.
“What do you want me to do?”
“I was hoping maybe you could be my friend.” She looks at me, hope shining in her eyes.
“No.”
“But—”
“No.”
“Would you stop that?”
“No.”
“Sam,” she whines.