Zip, Zero, Zilch
Page 38

“So this is where the magic happens, huh?” Fin asks. She looks around. “Nice digs.”
“I kind of expected some kinky shit in here,” Wren says. She opens the top drawer of the bedside table. “No dirty magazines or anything,” she says.
“Get out of his drawers,” I scold, and I walk over and chuck her with my hip. She falls back onto the center of Sam’s bed. Then she suddenly sits up.
“Wait!” she cries. “Did you have sex here? On these covers?”
I laugh. “No. No sex. You’re safe. Lounge all you want.”
I drag a wide-tooth comb through my hair.
“Oh, you poor thing,” Fin says. “He’s still withholding the goodies?”
“Shut up,” I grouse.
“Oh, he is.” She makes a tsk-tsk sound with her teeth. “I’m so sorry for your misfortune.”
I decide to be honest. They’re my sisters, after all. “I swear to God, if he doesn’t make a move soon, I’m going to lose my mind.”
Fin points to her crotch. “So, he ate you out that one time, and then he’s been hands off ever since?”
“No, not hands off,” I admit. “Hands on. All the time. But no sex.”
“That’s not a bad thing,” Star says. Leave it to her to be the voice of reason. “It’s good to wait.”
“Says Gidget the flying nun,” Fin grouses.
“Says the slut of Zero,” Star tosses back. She picks up a pillow and throws it at Fin’s head. She’s laughing, though.
“Don’t even try to slut-shame me,” Fin says. She pretends to be offended, but we all know she’s not.
“Why should she? It wouldn’t make a difference.” Wren laughs.
Fin has a healthy sexual appetite, and she doesn’t sleep with anyone more than once. It’s a rule, I think. There’s no problem with it, of course—it’s her decision what she does with her body—but Star likes to try to reform her every now and then. I don’t know why. Fin has no desire or need to change. She’s perfectly happy breaking hearts all over New York.
“So why won’t he sleep with you?” Lark asks. She picks up a picture of him with all his brothers and their wives. It was taken on a beach. It’s really a lovely picture.
“I’m supposed to fall in love with him first,” I say quietly.
Fin jumps up. “Fuck that! He wants a fucking commitment? What is this—the stone age?” She laughs out loud.
Star watches my face. “How close are you?”
I toy with a string on the bedspread. “Oh, I’m pretty sure I’m there.”
A pillow hits my face. “Shut the fuck up!” Wren cries. “Seriously?”
“You love him?” Star asks quietly.
“I am pretty sure I do.”
“How do you know?” Star asks. She’s not joking. She looks intently at my face.
“I just…know. I don’t know.” I flop back on the bed with a groan. “What do I do?”
“Him,” Fin calls. “Do him. Then let him do you. Wash. Rinse. Repeat.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
Wren lays her hand on my forehead. “Do you have a fever? No. You’re cool as a cucumber.”
“I think I love him.”
“What’s wrong with that?” Star asks.
“We’re about to go on tour for six weeks, that’s what.”
“Will you miss him?”
“Like crazy.” My heart hurts at the very thought of it.
“It’s just six weeks. If it’s real, he’ll still be here when you get back.”
I nod. “I know.”
A knock sounds on the door. “Peck,” Sam calls.
I crack the door. “Yes?”
“I’m getting worried,” he blurts out.
I open the door wider, so he can see the way my sisters are draped all over his furniture. “Everything is fine.”
“Fine, now that we saved the day.” Lark raises her arms like she’s flexing her muscles. “Zeroes to the rescue.”
I point to the door. “Out,” I tell my sisters.
Sam leans in the doorway, grinning at them.
“Damn, he’s pretty,” Wren says as she walks by him.
He grins even more.
“Thank you,” I call to their retreating backs.
They all wave at me, and go out the door. But then Fin sticks her head back in. “All your equipment works, right?” she asks Sam. She waves toward his crotch. “I mean that equipment. Not the football equipment.”
Sam glances down and grins. “Last time I checked.” He scratches his scruffy chin.
“Oh, ok. Just wanted to be sure.” She winks at me. “Love you, Peck!” she sings out, and then she closes the door.
Sam chuckles. “So nice that your sisters are worried about my junk.”
“Sorry about that.”
He narrows his eyes at me. “What was in the bag?”
“Nothing.” Heat creeps up my cheeks.
“Was too. What was it?”
“Nothing,” I say again. My face is flaming hot. “Are you ready to go to bed?”
He nods, and looks me up and down.
He goes into the bathroom to brush his teeth. He comes back carrying the box of tampons that I thought I’d hidden behind the towels. “You had your sisters bring you tampons?” He laughs. And it’s not a snicker. It’s a great big belly laugh. I expect him to wipe his eyes any second.