I'll Make You Mine Read online

  I shake my head, feeling better than I have in weeks. Maybe months. “No, this is me being excited, happy, thankful—all the above.”

  “So, it’s official? We’re roommates?” he asks with so much pride it’s contagious.

  Nodding, I tell him, “You’re stuck with me.”

  Dylan spins us around like he used to do at the dances, and I’m rewarded with one of his killer smiles. This is my favorite day in the history of our days. “We need to celebrate, Zo. What should we do?”

  I can think of a million things I’d like to do, but before I tell him a single one, I remember the promise I made to my sister—again. “Keely’s having a party. I bailed on the last one, so I should go.”

  “Can I go?” he asks with so much hope I want to tell him, yes. But I’m not sure if that’s a good idea, especially once Keely hears that we’re moving in together. Dylan must see the concern on my face because he sets me down and runs his hand through his hair. “She’ll kick me out. Too soon for the whole friendship thing, isn’t it?”

  “I’m not going without you. This is our night. So, if anyone says anything, just tell them you’re with me.”

  I don’t realize what I’ve implied until Dylan’s goofy grin disappears and his eyes pierce through me. “As much as I like the sound of that, I don’t think it’ll help my case, Zo.”

  “I didn’t mean it like that.” But the butterflies in my stomach are on the loose again. I have no idea how to shut them up, so I look away and pretend they’re not driving me crazy—that Dylan looking at me with his demanding eyes isn’t driving me crazy.

  If he notices me freaking out, he doesn’t mention it. All he does is stuff his hands in his pockets and moves toward the front door. He’s not mad, but his mood’s changed. “We should get going before you get too cold,” he says over his shoulder. “The heat’s not on yet.”

  I follow him through the door and walk in silence to his car. He was so happy and I ruined it by talking about my sister.

  “I can walk, Dylan. It’s not that far.”

  “Don’t even think about it, Zoe. Get in.”

  “Okay,” I whisper as my breath billows into a cloud of smoke. I tell myself I give in so easily because it’s frigid outside. But even I don’t buy that excuse. I’m in this car because I want to be with Dylan.

  “Are you hungry?” is all he says as he turns on the radio.

  “Starving.”

  “Why don’t you come back to my place and I’ll make us something. It’ll be one of the last meals we have there.”

  Dylan has the culinary skills of a child. If it doesn’t involve slices of bread and a piece of cheese, he’s lost. “How about I cook? You’ll have to stop at the store first. Your fridge is always empty.”

  “I’m thinking we should go with lobster.”

  I cringe from the mention of those beady little eyes. Food should never stare back at you. “If you mean the dead kind, I’ll make it. Anything else and you’re on your own.”

  “We’ll see,” he says with confidence.

  “I’m not killing them in a pot of boiling water, Dylan.” All that screaming and suffering, I can’t bring myself to do it.

  “What if we settle for a pizza? All the ingredients are dead.”

  “We always have pizza. You want special, so we’re doing the lobster. Pull in here,” I tell him before he passes the best grocery store in town. “Do you know what to get?”

  “I think so. Turn up the heat if you’re cold.”

  My teeth chatter as soon as he opens the door. I watch him hustle into the store, and my eyes land on his ass. At first, I laugh it off, but then I realize I’ll be seeing that ass every single day of the week—morning, noon, and night. He may be my best friend, but I’m not blind.

  Ten minutes later, he’s back with a bag in his hand. I picture his ass again and feel my cheeks heat.

  “What’s wrong with you?” he asks as he leans over and places the bag on the floor between my feet.

  “Nothing. Heat was too high.”

  “So, there’s good news and bad news, Zo.”

  “Dylan!” I pick my feet up, curling into a ball in the passenger seat. “They’re alive, aren’t they?”

  “Technically, yes.”

  “But?”

  “But you don’t have to touch them. I’ll put them in the water and get them out.”

  I swear the bag moves beneath me even though they’re in a container. “Just drive. This isn’t an aquarium. They’ll die.” He drives like a madman back to his apartment. I’m so used to it I only grab the “oh shit” bar once.

  While I hang up our coats, he heads straight for the kitchen. I hang out on the couch, so I don’t have to watch him dump the lobster into the water.

  Ignorance is bliss, but he’s a bull in a china shop when he’s in the kitchen, and he’s been way too quiet. In my peripheral vision, I see him standing next to me with a lobster in his hand, dangling it close to my body.

  “Get that thing away from me, Dylan.”

  “It’s the cutest one they had. You can’t fear them forever.”

  “Dylan, please,” I beg him, but he doesn’t listen. Instead of going back to the kitchen, he inches the shell closer and closer until it’s hovering above my chest and I’m pressed into the back of the couch as far as I can go.

  Actual tears well in my eyes, and I hate that I’m about to flip out over something so stupid. It only gets worse when Dylan loses his grip on the slippery shell, dropping the lobster right in my lap. I’m a girl possessed, screaming so loud my ears ache.

  “Shit, I’m sorry!” Dylan says as he bends down and picks it up.

  “I’m gonna be sick.” I run toward the bathroom with my hand over my mouth and my shirt smelling like a fish tank. Before the door’s fully closed, I rip the fabric over my head. And then I panic when some gets in my eye. “If I get pink eye, I’ll kill him,” I mumble as I run the shirt under the faucet.

  Once it’s soaking wet, I squirt it with shampoo and scrub. When I’m satisfied the pile of suds did a good enough job, I rinse them off, ringing the fabric with my hands. I repeat the same process with my leggings.

  Now a pile of drenched wrinkles, I stand shirtless and pantless next to the sink. Shit.

  Before I worry about what to wear, I sit to pee. Only I forget where I am and fall into the toilet. Screaming again, I reach for a handful of the curtains, hoping to pull myself back out, but the rod snaps off the wall and the curtains end up on top of me.

  My panties are around my ankles, my feet are up in the air, and his blue curtains are draped over me in defeat. My other hand is latched onto the toilet paper roll where I’ve shredded a layer of paper with my fingernails.

  Dylan picks that exact moment to come to my rescue. Without knocking, he pushes through the door I never thought to lock, takes one look at me and freezes.

  “I fell in,” I tell him.

  “I thought something happened to you. You scared the shit out of me, Zoe.”

  “Something happened—this is happening, Dylan!”

  He reaches for the curtains, but if he pulls them off me, he’ll see the homeland.

  Before his fingers even brush against the fabric, I yell, “Stop!”

  “I don’t know how to make this better,” he says in a voice so panicked, I’m not even sure it belongs to him. “Tell me how to help you.”

  “You had to have lobster. Now I’m stuck in a toilet with pink eye.”

  He bends to see my eyes, and I smack him in the chest. “Ouch,” he says as he backs up. “Do you really have pink eye?”

  “I need a shower.”

  Like he can read my mind, he opens the cabinet door, takes out a super-sized bottle of hand sanitizer, and sets it on the counter next to a fresh towel. From day one he’s never questioned my germaphobe ways. He even understands how close I am to an epic meltdown right now.

  “I’ll wait for you in the kitchen.”

  “Okay.”

 
Just as he’s about to close the door, he peeks his head back inside with a devilish smirk on his face. “Nice bra.”

  I’d cover my chest with my arms, but I’m too afraid to let go of the toilet paper. “Dylan, get out of here!”

  As he closes the door, he’s laughing on the other side. He’s enjoying this.

  Twenty minutes later, after I’m done gagging, I slither out of the bathroom and run as fast as I can into Dylan’s room. I open the top drawer of his dresser and pull out one of his T-shirts, slipping it over my head. It smells like a mixture of his detergent and him.

  “Hey, Zo,” Dylan yells as he walks by his room toward the bathroom.

  I watch as he peeks inside, confused when I’m not there. “What’s up?”

  He turns around and his eyes take their time scanning the length of me. “You were in my room. And you’re wearing my shirt.”

  “I can take it off if it bothers you. My clothes are all wet.”

  He shakes his head. “No, sorry. Don’t do that. I mean, unless you want to take it off. No, just keep it on.”

  Biting my lip, I try not to laugh at him. He’s a sputtering mess. “You’re sure?”

  “You’re welcome to anything I have, Zoe. You know that.”

  He closes the distance between us and it’s not so funny anymore. With my back against the wall, there’s nowhere else for me to go. “What are you doing, Dylan?”

  He smiles and my Dylan is back. Cross-eyed Dylan is gone. “Making sure you won’t fall down again. You were mad.”

  “I’m sorry I yelled at you.”

  “It’s okay. I didn’t like those curtains much anyway.”

  “I’ll wash them and hang them back up for you.”

  “Na, don’t bother. Rumor has it I’m moving in with this smokin’ hot chick.” He hands me my phone and I take it from him, worried I really will fall again if he keeps saying stuff like that.

  “Thanks.”

  “It rang twice while you were in the bathroom, and it’s been buzzing with messages for ten minutes.”

  I can tell he’s already glanced at the screen from the slight bite in his voice. As soon as I look for myself, I discover a mixture of messages from both Keely and Chaz. “I figured she wouldn’t give up.”

  “Keely?”

  “Yeah. Apparently Chaz is staying permanently. I’m being tortured forever.”

  I follow him to the kitchen and sit at the table, careful to keep my shirt pulled down far enough so I don’t show too much skin. “Did you make plans with Chaz?” he asks.

  “No, why?”

  He shrugs and pulls a bag out of the fridge. At first, I don’t realize what it is until I see the logo from my favorite sandwich shop. “You got me Checkers?”

  Dylan nods as he places a piece of a turkey sub in front of me.

  “When did you get this?”

  “While you were in the bathroom doing your acrobatics, I had a buddy of mine run it across the street.”

  “What happened to the lobster?” I ask as I stare at the little pieces of shredded lettuce sticking out of the roll.

  “You hate lobster, Zoe. Eat the sandwich if you plan on drinking tonight.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  The first bite of the sub comforts me, making all the drama of the last hour seem like nothing. That is until my phone vibrates again.

  When I read the words Chaz just texted me, I cringe. He’s still the same animal who drove me crazy over the summer. His slimy words always leave behind a dirty path.

  To top it off, Keely’s already halfway to drunk, which means she won’t know I’m even there. Either that or I’ll end up holding her hair while she throws up all night. I’d almost rather eat lobster than deal with that—almost.

  “What did he say?” Dylan asks when I toss the phone back on the table.

  Against my better judgement, I show him the text. As soon as his eyes scan the words, Dylan looks like he wants to punch Chaz in the face. And something tells me he’d do it if they were in the same room. “That guy is an asshole. You’re too good for him.”

  Is that what he thinks of me? That I’m superior? That I’m book smart and not street smart like Keely said? “I wish I didn’t have to go. I don’t want to see him.”

  “She’ll get over it if you want to stay home.”

  “I know.”

  “Then why don’t we stay here and watch movies instead. You never say no to my couch.”

  Maybe living with Dylan will help me find the courage to stand up to my sister in these situations, because tonight I can’t find it in me to tell her no. “I said I’d go, so I have to see it through. Besides, soon you won’t be able to get rid of me. You should enjoy your alone time while you have it.”

  Dylan pushes his chair back far enough to reach the dish of melted butter on the counter. “Don’t over-think it,” he says as he pops a piece of lobster in his mouth. “This move is a good thing.”

  I stare at his buttery lips a little too long before tearing my eyes away and focusing on the tiny seeds stuck to the roll of my sandwich.

  Dylan’s my Dylan, and he’s nothing more than that. But when he licks his lips and then the tip of his finger, he makes it hard not to notice.

  It’s impossible not to feel something.

  Zoe

  “You made it!” Keely’s so happy I showed up, and after a quick glance around the trashed living room, I can tell the party’s already been going for hours.

  Chaz and his friends are destroying my sister’s apartment and nothing about them being here feels right. Especially when Chaz winks at me from the other side of the room while his arm is slung around some girl’s shoulder.

  “I can’t stay long.”

  Keely rolls her eyes and grabs my hand. “You can never stay,” she says as she pulls me through the crowd and into the kitchen. Every kind of liquor imaginable is lined up on the table. If she weren’t so cheerful, I’d think something was wrong.

  I debate telling her I don’t want the shot glass full of amber liquid she hands me. That is until she narrows her eyes and challenges me to give it back. “One shot. Then I have to go.”

  “Why? What could be more fun than this?”

  “Dylan’s waiting for me outside.”

  “He didn’t want to come in?” For the briefest of seconds, she looks disappointed. Even a little hurt. But my sister is one of the best actresses I know. What little emotion she let slip through the cracks, she locks up.

  “We had dinner, and he was helping me with some stuff. And well, he wasn’t sure you’d be okay with him being here. He thought he should wait outside.” I hate that I can’t tell my own sister my living arrangements have been solved and I’m moving in with Dylan. The longer I wait to tell her, the more it’ll bother her.

  But tonight doesn’t seem like the right time or place to tell her. I need Keely sober and as rational as possible when I drop the bomb.

  “Whatever,” she says, downing the first shot and chasing it with a second. “So, is the rumor true?”

  “What rumor?”

  Before she has a chance to answer me, she’s distracted with a set of lips sucking on her neck. She tilts her head back far enough to smile at him. Whoever he is, she likes him. “He’s great, isn’t he?” Her words are directed at me but all of her attention stays focused on him.

  “Seems great.” He’s nice to look at, but he’s a little too rough around the edges—another bad boy who’ll break her heart and waste her time.

  “Anyway,” she says after he kisses her one last time. “I hear you’re moving in with Dylan.”

  Considering I only found out a couple hours ago, I’m not sure who told her. “How do you know? We only made the plans today.”

  I search Keely’s eyes for any sign of jealousy, but only see support and a little curiosity. If she’s bothered, she’s hiding it well.

  “Dylan told me,” she admits as she lines up two more shot glasses, filling th
em to the brim. That explains the drinking.

  “Dylan told you?” She pushes one glass in front of me and keeps the other for herself. I stare at it, my heart racing as I wait for her to answer me.

  “Yep. So, where’s the house?”

  “It’s on Locust. Not far from his place.”

  “That’s good. Should make moving easier.”

  “You’re not mad?”

  “Why would I be mad? I’m moving back home. You two are staying. It makes sense.”

  Keely has never been the practical twin. She points out flaws for every plan I come up with, and I can’t figure out why she’s not lecturing me. “When did Dylan tell you?”

  “Tonight. He was making dinner, lobster or something. At first I thought he was on a date because you despise lobster. But then he went into this whole speech about not wanting you to feel guilty, or to be the guy who comes between us. He made it clear the move was his doing and not yours.”

  “He said all that?”

  “Yep,” she says as she pops the p. “Did you really think he wouldn’t figure out your housing situation?”

  “What do you mean by that?” I can take care of myself and survive without Dylan.

  “All I’m saying is, Dylan wants you. I saw it when we were together, and I see it even more now that we’re not.”

  How much could she have seen in fourteen days? I’ve picked up on some things, too, but I wouldn’t say he wants to date me, date me. Maybe hook up, but long-term? That’s scary territory. Neither of us have been in a serious relationship before.

  “We’re friends, Keely. Nothing more. Nothing less.”

  “You’re finally the crazy twin, but whatever, Zoe. It is what it is, and you’ll see for yourself once you’re living together.”

  “Please don’t make this a big deal.”

  It is a big deal. Living with Dylan is a monumental change, an epic twist I didn’t see coming. But I can’t tell Keely that. She could tell Dylan how scared I am, and then it might never happen.

  She grabs the two shots still sitting on the table and downs them both. I hope she slows down or I’ll never be able to leave. And this party isn’t my scene.

  “Just be out of Dylan’s bed by eleven o’clock tomorrow morning. I’ll swing by and pick you up.”