Falling for the Ghost of You (16 page)

I nod weakly.  “And chocolate.”

I tell her almost everything.  We sit on her bed, munching snacks, and she’s so enthralled by my recount that she doesn’t even yell at me about crumbs.

“Wow,” she says when I’m done.  “That’s so…hot.”

“Right?”  I sigh and pop a piece of chocolate into my mouth barely tasting it.

Lauren hands me a napkin.  "Okay, but what about that comment about your mom being right?  Is he admitting that he will break your heart?"

I throw my hands up in the air.  " Of course he's going to break my he
art.   I know, realistically, these things
never works out.  I'm still in high school, and he's got a life and a job in L.A.  I can't even envision a scenario where we end up together.  Right?"

She stays silent for a moment, then gives a shrug.  “It could happen.  We’ll be off to college before you know i
t, and you want
to go to UCLA
, right
?”

I flap my hand at her.  “That’s months and months away—we probably won’t be together by then.  Why would he stay with me?  I mean, do you know how many girls Zane’s been with?  Like, a lot.  A
lot
.”

She is taken aback by my vehemence.  "V, are you, like, falling in love with him?"

"No!  What?  No..."  I laugh weakly
, and run a nervous hand through my hair.  "I just...I like him."

"Okay."  Lauren backs off and drops down on her desk chair.  "So...what now?  Are you guys dating?  Are you going to sneak around and see each other?"

I automatically check the phone in my hand for messages.  Nada.  "I don't know, Lauren.  I
guess
I'll just—I
don't know.  I'll wait and see, I guess."

Privately, I scoff at the term "dating."  That's just a way too immature and...and weak term to describe my relationship with Zane.  What happened between us was way too intense an experience to be defined so mundanely.

Or I'm
romanticizing
what is essentially a hook up.  Yup, that's probably it.

Still.  The look in Zane's eyes when we kissed.  I want to believe that what I saw there was more than just lust.  Was it? 

I don't know.  I wish he would call.  More than anything, I want to
hear his voice, reassuring me
that what happened wasn't a mistake, and that we would see each other again.

******

Chapter 15

I missed my mommy.  I didn't realize how much until I see her running out the door to greet me, and I nearly burst into tears when she gathers me up in a rib-crushing hug.

She looks great!  Apparently, Europe agrees with her.  I gush over her sophisticated new hairstyle and expensive-looking outfit.  Mom's entire be
ing glows with happiness, and—yes—
love.  She ushers me into the house to show me all the clothes and souvenirs she got me.  Even Bill seems...content.  He pats my back awkwardly when I compliment his tan.

We've officially moved into Bill's house.  I should be excited, right?  My new room is easily three times the size of the old one, and Mom went a little nuts decorating it princess style.  All that purple and antique Victorian furniture's not really my taste, but whatever, it's pretty.  I do like the little balcony outside the French doors, perfect for any prince who wants to climb up it and rescue me.  And the giant four poster bed with the dramatic gauzy canopy makes me feel like a harem girl—which I can't figure out why I think that's a good thing.

So it's been th
ree days since I've seen Zane.  O
ur schedules never seemed to match up.  But we've been talking on the phone, for hours at a time.  And yes, I'll admit it:  we are
sexting
.

I
can’t believe I just admitted that.  One night with Zane, and I’ve suddenly turned into a sexpot.  Sigh, I miss him. 
He's been in L.A., taking care of some business, but he's coming over for dinner tonight.

Yes.  Dinner with our parents.  Yikes.

I am ridiculously nervous, and suddenly shy at the thought of seeing him again.  How should I act?  What should I wear?  My dilemma is complicated by the fact that my
mother
is going to be there—a
nd his father.

Oh, this could be so bad.

Mom wants me to wear the pretty peach dress she got me in Paris, and it's clear to me why when
I wander into the sitting room,
and she's wearing a matching dress!  I immediately turn back around to go change, but Mom's voice stops me.

"My goodness, you look so beautiful, Violet!"

I sigh inaudibly, halting in my tracks.  "Thanks," I mumble.

Mom's got her iP
ad tucked under one arm.  When I ask her about it, she beams. 

"I thought Zane might like to see some pictures of our trip.  I
know you've seen most of them—I
must have sent you a hundred a day."

I open my mouth to sa
y that I enjoyed getting them—t
hen the doorbell rings, and I scream and jump instead.

"Oh, that must be Zane.  Get the door, will you?  And why so jumpy today
, Violet
?  Maybe cut down on the caffeine?"

He's here! 

With my heart in my throat, I walk with shaking limbs to the foyer.  I take a deep breath and open the door.

And lose it completely when I see Zane standing there, looking incredibly gorgeous in a long-sleeved white shirt and tan cargos.  His soft dark hair looks like he's been running a hand through it, and his chin
is covered in a light stubble—s
o hot!

"Hi," he says, flashing that sexy half smile.

"Hi.  Hi."  I stare at him.

"Uh, can I come in?"

"Oh!  Yeah, sorry."

I open the door wider and move aside.  Zane slides past me, then turns around to face me.  We stand there in the foyer, caught in an uncomfortable silence.

He goes to grab my hand, but I pull away from him.  He raises his eyebrows as I
hastily
back away.

I don't know how to explain to him how I'm feeling, that if he touched me he'd break the dam of overwhelming emotions I am so desperately trying to control right now.  And this was not the
time to lose it, not with Mom in the next room.

Speaking of...

Mom appears, saving me in the nick of time.  She rushes over to give Zane a hug, and is it weird to be jealous of my own mother?  Also,  I have the sudden urge
to blurt out, "He's seen me naked!
"

I don't, thank god.  I clap a hand over my mouth and follow them into the sitting room.  They sit on the couch and I fall into an armchair.  Dazed, I watch as Mom babbles at him, making him look at the pictures, and telling funny stories about their European adventures.

Zane is so nice to her!  Patient and charming, he jokes with her about his own experiences traveling.  Every so often he'll glance over at me, amused and questioning.  I avoid his gaze but sneak looks at him whenever his attention
i
s elsewhere.

I trace the perfection of his features with my eyes:  his elegant forehead, dark eyebrows over intense dark eyes, straight nose...that sexy beautifully sculpted mouth.  The exquisite curve of his cheekbones.  That strong square jaw, unshaven...

Hey, I just realized—Z
ane's stubble is much lighter than the hair on his head.  Hm, so is the
fine
hair
s
on his arms.  I never noticed before...does he dye his hair?  I wonder if it's the same red gold color as his dad's.  Or maybe he's just one of those people whose body hair comes in light?  I knew a girl who was an exotic mix of Hawaiian, Filipino, and German.  Her hair and skin were dark, but she had a light blonde mustache.  You could totally see it in the sun.

Anyway.  I make a mental note to ask him about it later.  Not that it’s a big deal to me.  I dye my hair all the time, after all.

Bill comes into the room, and he and Zane start talking about work stuff.  Mom excuses herself to go check on dinner.  I fidget uncomfortably in my chair, torn between wanting to escape to my bedroom, or throw myself into Zane’s arms.

“Violet?”

“Huh?”

Mom is standing in front of me, and by the look on her face, I must have been really out of it.  Sheepishly, I jump to attention.

“What’s going on with you, today?” she asks, peering at me closely.  She reaches out to feel my forehead with the back of her hand.  “Are you okay?”

Don’t look at Zane.  Do not look at him.  “Yeah,” I mutter distractedly, rubbing my sweaty palms down the front of my dress.  “Yeah, I, uh, you know…penis.”

“Excuse me?”

My horrified eyes meet Mom’s.  “Oh, my god!  What did I just say?  I meant to say
penis
!”

Could Mom look any more terrified?  I don’t think so.  “You did say ‘penis,’” she points out.

I slap a mortified hand over my mouth.  “Oh, no.”

Is it too much to hope that Zane and his father didn’t hear that little penis exchange?  Yeah, of course.  I am not going to look over there.  I am going to ignore that muffled cough/laugh sound coming from Zane’s direction.

“I’m going to help you in the kitchen,” I tell Mom miserably.

She eyes me warily.  “I think you’d better.”

Once inside, she interrogates me mercilessly.  I am forced to tell her that Lauren made me watch
a dirty movie the other night—a
nd now she thinks my best friend is some kind of pervert with a secret brother.  I wonder why I always make her my scapegoat.  I guess that’s what best friends are for, right?

Mom wants us to eat at the little kitchen table, since she deems the one in the dining room too big and formal for just the four of us.  I set the table, and put the food in serving dishes, and I honestly could not tell you what we are having for dinner.

I though
t sitting temptingly close next
to Zane would be bad, but sitting across from him is worse, because now I have to look at him.  I poke at my asparagus as Mom prattles on happily about the wedding.

“Well most of the guests have
RSVP’d
, and it looks like we’re going to have about two hundred,” Mom is saying.  She shakes her head.  “And that’s mostly from my side.  It’s a shame you don’t have any family besides Zane.  I’m glad most of your friends from work can make it.”

Bill hunches his shoulders and stabs at his roast beef.  “They’re more like acquaintances than friends,” he mutters.  You can totally tell he only invited them because Mom must’ve hounded him into it.

“Zane, when are you going back to L.A.?” she asks, and my ears perk up, waiting for his response.

“Tonight.  I’m all packed up,” he says.

“Oh, that’s a shame you have to go so soon after we just got back.”  Mom sighs.  “You’ll be able to come back for our engagement party, right?”

Zane flashes her his killer smile.  “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

He glances over at me and catches me gaping at him.  I hastily look away, slamming my hand down on the table.  My fingers hit the edge of my spoon that’s balanced on the plate, catapulting a blob of mashed potatoes into the air.  It lands with a splat on Bill’s shoulder.  He doesn’t even notice.

While I’m wiping the mashed potato blob off his shirt, Mom turns to Zane again.  “So, did you and Violet see a lot of each other while Bill and I were gone?”

Eek!

Zane manages to catch my panicked gaze, and his eyes sparkle with mischievous malice.  “Oh, a fair amount, wouldn’t you say, Violet?”

I grit my teeth and rub harder at the damp spot on poor Bill’s shoulder.

“That’s good.  I’m glad you two are getting to know each other.”

“Oh, yeah,” Zane says and smirks at me.  “I had her for dinner once.  Best meal of my life.”

Oh, my god!  “Really?!” I snap, glaring at him.

I feel like I might burst into flames.  How could he say that, with
that
smile on his face?!  And look at the suggestive way he's slowly chewing his asparagus. 

Oh, god, they’re gonna know what we did!  They…

“I think you got it out, Violet,” Bill’s voice interrupts my frenzied thoughts.  He tries to pull away from my vice grip on his sleeve.

“Don’t say things like that!” I blurt out, accidentally glaring at Bill.  “I mean—uh, sorry!”

By some miracle, Mom is completely oblivious to Zane’s double meaning dirty talk.  “I was almost worried that you guys wouldn’t get along,” she laughs.

Zane chuckles along with her.  “Well, Lily, we did have a bumpy ride in the beginning, but now Violet’s like the little sister I never wanted.”

I kick him under the table.  Hard.