I look at him out of the corner of my eye. He appears engrossed in the movie, smiling a little—even at the scary parts.
If he were my boyfriend, he'd have his arm around me, and I wouldn't be scared at all.
Ugh, get those thoughts out of your head, Violet!
I was doing so good—up until the end. The girl and her brother had just returned from the evil dimension, and was safe back home. I totally didn't see it coming when bloody hands suddenly popped out of the wall and yanked her backwards, back into their dimension.
So I jump and scream a little, pressing back into the couch. Zane turns to look at me, eyebrows raised.
“You okay, Violet?” he asks with a teasing grin.
“I’m fine,” I say quickly, standing up. "I just thought I saw a spider."
"A spider, huh?"
There's a sudden chirping noise, making me jump again. Zane checks his phone. He frowns down at it, then tosses it on the cushion beside him.
"Wow," I say, eager to change the subject. "That's the first time I've seen you with a phone. I just realized, that's weird."
"Why is that weird?" he asks, running his hands through his hair.
I shrug. "Because of your job, and your, uh, extremely active social life."
"Yeah, well, I hate the damn thing," he mutters, sounding annoyed. "I usually have it turned off."
"Huh."
Zane leans over and flicks on the lamp, bathing the couch in light. "Well, what about you? Most teenagers are glued to their phones, but I rarely see you on yours."
"I only ever talk to my friend, Lauren, or my mom," I reply. Then I smack myself in the forehead. "And now you think I'm a real loser."
Zane laughs. He stands up and looks down at me with his gorgeous dark eyes. "I think you're beautiful and funny, and if I didn't have to be somewhere tonight, I'd make you watch another scary movie with me just so I can watch you pretend you're not scared."
I stare up at him, speechless. He thinks I'm beautiful?!
We stand there for a breathless minute. The eerie soundtrack of the movie plays in the background. I am desperate to say something—anything—to break the sudden tension.
Finally, Zane looks away, shaking his head a little, as if to clear a thought away. He grabs his phone and our plates and goes into the kitchen to put them in the sink. The plates, not his phone.
"You gonna be okay alone?" he asks before he heads into his room. "You look a little spooked."
I scowl at him. "I'm not a little kid."
He only smiles at me over his shoulder before he disappears into his room.
In a daze, I turn off the lamp and the television, then I go straight to my room. I do a swan dive onto my bed.
I can't stop smiling. I replay our day together in my head, especially the really good parts. I can't believe we spent the day with him—complete with the awkward is-he-gonna-kiss-me moment at the end.
Knowing he's right across the hall from me makes me feel restless, giddy. There's a funny fluttering in the pit of my stomach that only grows when I think of walking that short distance to his room, and—I don't know what I'd do. Kiss him. Run my arms up and down his back...
He thinks I'm beautiful and funny!
Yeah, right, Violet. Then why is he going out—probably with yet another gorgeous woman? He must have felt sorry for you.
Ugh, the voice of reason in my head is right. I need to stop thinking like that. Zane is my future step brother, and the most we can be is friends. I can ignore that spine tingling electricity, that feeling of falling, whenever I'm around him. I just won't allow it.
Yeah. The next night I walk in on Zane just coming out of the shower. He's wearing nothing but a towel knotted low around his waist. Beads of water slide down his tanned muscles, from his chest down to the fascinating ridges along his hips...
Don't worry, I handle it well. I scream, "Ewww!" and run from the room.
No, I really did. I walked into that room and saw the hottest sexiest guy I've ever seen--wet and half naked. And I said, "Ewww."
I know. How am I still single, right?
Chapter 11
"Look at this pic," I say to Lauren, showing her my phone. "My mom sent it this morning from Paris."
Lauren takes it and squints at the screen. "What is that she's holding?"
"That would be a phallic-shaped French pastry that my mother is holding up to her open mouth. I don't think she realizes, however—or she wouldn't be posing like that."
She laughs and hands my phone back to me. “She looks really good, V. Happy.”
“Yeah,” I agree with a sigh. I poke unenthusiastically at my taco.
We're at Taco Bill's right now, having lunch off campus for a change. We aren't really allowed to, but usually the school doesn't enforce this rule. So we’re seizing the day. I order tacos instead of my usual enchiladas, just to be different.