never want any of this. You don’t want me . It’s all a lie.”
She doesn’t say anything because she knows it’s the truth, and suddenly I’m furious with the deceit of it all.
“Don’t come into my dreams anymore, Zoe,” I snap, and she flinches. “It’s real or nothing.”
“Luca…”
I shake my head, then pull her hand away and roll over, closing my eyes and trying to will her to disappear. But I still feel her hand settle on my arm, her lips carefully pressing into my back.
Please, don’t let me remember this.
Don’t let me remember this…
* * *
“Luca!”
My eyes fly open, and then pain lances through my head. I groan, then look around and realize I’m in bed, my best friend standing over me with an amused grin on his face.
“What the fuck, Scott?” I mumble, my hands coming up to scrub at my eyes. “What are you even doing here?”
“You texted me, dipshit. Told me it was an emergency.”
“What?” I mutter, then sit up and groan again. “I don’t remember texting you.”
He snorts. “How much did you drink last night? I mean I saw the empty bottle of Jack in your kitchen, and what the fuck are you doing drinking whiskey anyway? You know you can’t handle that stuff. You always black out like a bitch and then I have to get you out of some geek-off over how many episodes of Star Trek there were because the two-parter doesn’t count as one and blah blah blah.”
“I…” I shake my head, then wince at the invisible serrated blade that just carved its way through my frontal lobe. “How did you even get in here?”
“Your front door was unlocked, moron. What happened last night?”
My head spins and stomach gurgles, and I try to piece it together.
I remember going to Zoe’s house, but was that last night?
I remember her telling me she’s pregnant, then fighting in her kitchen and then walking out when she shredded me in her living room.
I remember coming home and drinking, then her showing up.
There was something…her telling me about having been pregnant once before…
And then one crazy fucking dream where she was in bed with me and we were talking.
But the majority of it is all blurry, fuzzy whispers and a few smiles, laughing about something but I can’t remember what.
My brow furrows as I concentrate, then my eyes widen. Did I ask her to marry me?
I look up at Scott, his eyebrow arched, and I toss my hand up in exasperation.
“I have no idea what happened,” I tell him, and he rolls his eyes.
“Well, you smell like a bar, and since I’m here today instead of tomorrow we may as well go do something dangerous and most likely stupid.” His face pulls into a taunting grin that reminds me of too-low BASE jumps and questionable bungee cords. “Did I tell you there’s a doctor who just started at the hospital? Stitched me up two weeks ago and she’s hot as hell.”
I chuckle, then shake my head. “I’m not getting hospitalized just so you can try to score.”
Scott scoffs. “You always say that. But first, you need to get your ass out of bed and into the shower.”
I check to make sure I’m wearing something, relieved that at least my jeans are still on. I throw off my covers and get up, stumbling a little as Scott snorts, and then head to my shower.
“You make someone cry last night?” he calls out just as I’m stepping into my bathroom. “Or you take up cross dressing in your spare time?”
My heartbeat slams high into action and I dart back into my room. “What?”
He points at my bed, and when I look, I balk.
“There’s mascara on your pillow, dude. But I didn’t see anything,” he says, holding his hands up in surrender and walking past me. “Don’t ask, don’t tell…”
No. Fucking. Way…
CHAPTER 5: DUSTING OFF DENIAL
Life is…different.
All weekend I spent with Scott, capitalizing on the still-survivable heat by riding mountain bikes on Saturday and
She doesn’t say anything because she knows it’s the truth, and suddenly I’m furious with the deceit of it all.
“Don’t come into my dreams anymore, Zoe,” I snap, and she flinches. “It’s real or nothing.”
“Luca…”
I shake my head, then pull her hand away and roll over, closing my eyes and trying to will her to disappear. But I still feel her hand settle on my arm, her lips carefully pressing into my back.
Please, don’t let me remember this.
Don’t let me remember this…
* * *
“Luca!”
My eyes fly open, and then pain lances through my head. I groan, then look around and realize I’m in bed, my best friend standing over me with an amused grin on his face.
“What the fuck, Scott?” I mumble, my hands coming up to scrub at my eyes. “What are you even doing here?”
“You texted me, dipshit. Told me it was an emergency.”
“What?” I mutter, then sit up and groan again. “I don’t remember texting you.”
He snorts. “How much did you drink last night? I mean I saw the empty bottle of Jack in your kitchen, and what the fuck are you doing drinking whiskey anyway? You know you can’t handle that stuff. You always black out like a bitch and then I have to get you out of some geek-off over how many episodes of Star Trek there were because the two-parter doesn’t count as one and blah blah blah.”
“I…” I shake my head, then wince at the invisible serrated blade that just carved its way through my frontal lobe. “How did you even get in here?”
“Your front door was unlocked, moron. What happened last night?”
My head spins and stomach gurgles, and I try to piece it together.
I remember going to Zoe’s house, but was that last night?
I remember her telling me she’s pregnant, then fighting in her kitchen and then walking out when she shredded me in her living room.
I remember coming home and drinking, then her showing up.
There was something…her telling me about having been pregnant once before…
And then one crazy fucking dream where she was in bed with me and we were talking.
But the majority of it is all blurry, fuzzy whispers and a few smiles, laughing about something but I can’t remember what.
My brow furrows as I concentrate, then my eyes widen. Did I ask her to marry me?
I look up at Scott, his eyebrow arched, and I toss my hand up in exasperation.
“I have no idea what happened,” I tell him, and he rolls his eyes.
“Well, you smell like a bar, and since I’m here today instead of tomorrow we may as well go do something dangerous and most likely stupid.” His face pulls into a taunting grin that reminds me of too-low BASE jumps and questionable bungee cords. “Did I tell you there’s a doctor who just started at the hospital? Stitched me up two weeks ago and she’s hot as hell.”
I chuckle, then shake my head. “I’m not getting hospitalized just so you can try to score.”
Scott scoffs. “You always say that. But first, you need to get your ass out of bed and into the shower.”
I check to make sure I’m wearing something, relieved that at least my jeans are still on. I throw off my covers and get up, stumbling a little as Scott snorts, and then head to my shower.
“You make someone cry last night?” he calls out just as I’m stepping into my bathroom. “Or you take up cross dressing in your spare time?”
My heartbeat slams high into action and I dart back into my room. “What?”
He points at my bed, and when I look, I balk.
“There’s mascara on your pillow, dude. But I didn’t see anything,” he says, holding his hands up in surrender and walking past me. “Don’t ask, don’t tell…”
No. Fucking. Way…
CHAPTER 5: DUSTING OFF DENIAL
Life is…different.
All weekend I spent with Scott, capitalizing on the still-survivable heat by riding mountain bikes on Saturday and
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