stray dog and only ever wants to make out. I think he really likes me, but we don’t really have anything in common. He’s just happy to have finally found a warm place to stick his dick.”
“Does that mean...?”
“Yeah, he was a virgin. Happy to take care of that for him, but I think we’re done now.” She sighed. “I guess I’ll give him until the end of the semester. That way he’ll probably get over it by fall.”
“That seems practical.” Which, now that I thought about it, was the perfect word to sum up Jillian. I’d noticed that she had an outfit for each day of the week and wore the in a seven-day rotation. Sunday meant denim skirt and pink long-sleeve tee.
Of course, Jillian’s revelation sent me into a spiral. Surely, with the whole weekend to think it over, Zach would conclude that I was only interested in him for sex, which he could presumably get from anyone. So why should he deal with my bullshit? I braced for him to arrive back on campus with a calm “we need to talk.” The fact that I was hornier than I could ever remember being didn’t help soothe my anxiety.
Sure enough, after dinner, I got a text from Zach:
Back on campus in 30. Can I come by?
Shit. “Can I come by?” is exactly what I would say if I had to tell Sierra her dog died while I was dog sitting. No emoji, nothing playful, just a leaden warning sign of a message. Then my phone buzzed again, and I held it up to read: You don’t HAVE to be mostly naked when I get there, but it would save time.
I felt weightless. I looked around, and my room was a mess. And apparently had been on Friday, too, not that I’d noticed. I straightened a teetering pile of textbooks, stuffed a bra into my drawer, and collected the papers on my desk into a stack that I’d have to sort out later. The photo of my family had fallen over, and I propped it back up on its little kickstand.
That taken care of, I considered what to wear. Rummaging through the lacy bras, cotton bras, and assorted underwear in my drawer. I found a sheer peach bra and bikini that had been an impulse buy at Victoria's Secret. Just see-through enough to be interesting, and best of all, I had never worn these with Evan.
The knock on the door came 25 minutes after Zach’s text, and I was so excited, I neglected to look through the peephole. I cracked the door open and said, “Come in.”
Sierra pushed the door open, took one look at me, and said, “Holy shit, are you trying to make him blow his load the second he walks in?”
“Sierra, what the hell are you doing here?”
“I came by to see if you wanted to go for ice cream. But apparently you’re getting all set for boudoir photos.” She pulled out her phone. “I’ll take the first one.”
“Don’t you fucking dare,” I said.
“I wouldn’t, but it’s fun to see you squirm. And I’m sure you’ll have fun making him squirm.”
“Could you, like, go away?”
Sierra grinned. “Seriously, Brooke, you look fucking amazing.”
Someone knocked on the door. This time I checked. It was Zach. I rolled my eyes at Sierra and let him in.
“Ladies,” he said. “Am I interrupting something?”
I pushed Sierra toward the door. “You wish. She was just leaving.”
“Bye!” she said, and slammed the door.
Zach gave me a long, slow, all-the-way-up-and-down look. I tried not to blush. “I was going to ask about your weekend,” he said, “but I don’t know if I can speak. Here, I brought you this.” He handed me a single purple crocus. “I picked it next to the administration building. Thought it might look nice in your hair.”
“You broke the no-picking rule for me?” I took the flower and slipped the stem into my cleavage. “And outside the administration building? I’m harboring a fugitive.”
“Well, how will we pass the time while we’re hiding from the law?” He put his arms around me and rested his hands on the small of my back, just above the waistline of my underwear, whispering, “I
Learning to Kill: Stories