I reach up to touch his beautiful face. "You're still talking."
Now there are no spoken words between us—just an intense conversation with our hands and mouths, a small gasp or a moan frequently puncturing the silence.
"Violet." Zane looks intently into my eyes. "I don't want Jenna, or the receptionist—or anyone else. Just you, like this."
Does that mean...?
He slides a hand down my quivering stomach to the button on my pants. It's only when he's sliding down my zipper that I suddenly remember.
"Wait." I grab his hand to stop him. "We can't. I—it's that time of the month."
Zane pulls his head back a little, and squints at me. "So?"
I make a face. "So...no!"
He groans into my neck. "You're killing me, here, Violet."
"You?" I glare up at him indignantly. "What about me? At this rate, I'm going to die a virgin."
Zane chuckles, and kisses the tip of my nose. "Trust me, I'm not gonna let that happen."
He rolls off of me onto the bed. We both lie on our backs and stare up at the canopy.
"Wow," Zane says after a moment. "This bed is really soft."
"Right?" I sigh comfortably, stretching my arms in the air. "It's like sleeping on heaven."
"You'd like my bed. It's huge."
I roll onto my side to face him. "And will I ever get to see your bed?"
"Well, that depends." Zane tucks his hands behind his head. "Will you bring me breakfast in bed, and perform other girlfriend type duties?"
I raise my eyebrows at him. "Girlfriend...or maid? And...are you saying what I think you're saying? Zane, you're going to have to spell it out for me."
"Really? You're going to make me do it, aren't you?"
"Yes, please."
"Okay, then." Zane turns his head to look at me. "Violet Mercer, will you be my girlfriend?"
I can't stop the giant smile that spreads across my entire face. "Okay! Yay."
He laughs. "Awesome."
I lean over to give him a big kiss. "Now what?"
"Now you put on your shirt, and I'm going to go home and take a really cold shower." He glances over at me again. "Really cold."
He starts to get up, but I grab his hand. "Stay with me tonight," I say impulsively.
I can see him think about it. He runs a hand through his tousled hair and sighs.
"Are you sure you want to run the risk of getting caught?"
"It's worth it," I say promptly. "I want you to stay."
"Then I'll stay."
While Zane takes a shower, I text Mom that I've got terrible cramps so I'm going to bed early. She texts me back with offers of tea and a back rub. Feeling crazy guilty, I tell her I'll be fine, I'm just going to sleep.
I've never really lied to her before these past few months—honest. I've never really had a reason to. But now, well, the guilt and anxiety I feel is worth it. Zane is worth it.
We watch weird crap on the internet, and it's just like old times—except that I'm sitting on Zane's lap, wearing just his shirt. I still think it's strange how he's never seen any of these viral videos, considering he works with computers for a living. Aren't all those techie guys usually always plugged into the internet?
Or maybe they wouldn't be if they looked like Zane.
Around midnight, Zane convinces me to go skinny dipping in the pool. We end up kissing more than swimming—then it's cold showers for both of us.
This is...incredibly frustrating, yet...exciting. There’s this anticipation, building up to a painful level, but I’m certain that when it’s time, it will me even more amazing because of the tension. Zane seems to feel the same way, constantly testing the limits of his control by driving both of us to the edge of crazy, then pulling back just in time.
We talk, too. Sometimes, it seems like he's on the verge of telling me something, but then he changes his mind. It makes me obsess over his conversation with Jenna. Why can't I ask him about it? I think I don't want to know. Not yet, not in this moment that is one of the best experiences of my life.
I would've thought I wouldn't be able to fall asleep with Zane in my bed, but it's so peaceful. We lie next to each other, me on my stomach as he rubs my back with his magic hands. I fall asleep, smiling.
Early, the next morning, Zane wakes me up to let me know he's leaving. I insist on walking him to the garage, though I try to use that time to convince him to stay longer. Of course, he can't, and I have to be at school in a couple of hours, anyway.
Zane's dad has a garage full of shiny toys, and I doubt he'll miss the sleek back motorcycle Zane decides to commandeer. He gets the keys from a safe hidden behind a glass display of a signed motorcycle helmet. I don't know or care whose signature it is, I'm so tired right now!