Dixie is sitting on my island, cross-legged with her shoes on, eating a bowl of cereal. My face automatically contorts in revulsion, and I smack at her leg. “Get your shoes off my counter! Why are you so gross?”
“Why are you a hypocritical OCD clean freak?” she counters with a mouth full of Fruity Pebbles. “You can’t stand a dirty house, but you’ll stick your dick in anything.”
Her crass insult makes me think of where my dick was last night. I feel hot, like I’m going to blush. I don’t fucking do that, so it weirds me out. She must see that weirdness on my face, because her blue eyes flare. “What? Am I missing something? What did your dick do and with who?”
“Stop being a pig, and be a proper little sister for once, would you, please?” I shake my head in disgust, but she’s not buying it. “For the record my dick is the cleanest thing on me. I get tested every three months and you know that.”
“Yeah and you always bag it. I know. Dad bought us all condoms when we turned sixteen, but I’m betting the conversation you got was a lot less pro-abstinence than ours,” she says, referring to the sex talk my parents gave my sisters.
I shrug. “And FYI, I’m dating Zoey now, so the dick jokes can stop, okay? I don’t want you teasing me like that in front of her.”
She puts the mostly empty cereal bowl down beside her hip and a little coconut milk slops out the side and lands on the counter. “You can date someone and stick your dick in someone else. It’s kind of your thing.”
I sigh. Loudly. “Why the fuck do you have to talk about my dick? Stop it. And for the record, this is different.”
Dixie looks floored, but starts to nod slowly. “Yes, it is different. Why?”
“Excuse me?”
“Why is it different?” she repeats and tilts her head as she waits for a response.
I glance at the clock on the stove. “I have to go. I want to take her to lunch before we go to DC.”
“I was going to ask for a lift to the airport,” she replies.
“Too bad. I don’t even know why the PR team is coming. They didn’t last year,” I mutter and pick up my bag again.
“We’re doing our own retreat there, not going to the White House with you. We’re just sharing the plane,” Dixie explains. “And trust me, I’m as unhappy as you. I was going to go down to the cottage early and get it ready for Mom and Dad.”
“Right. They’re leaving tomorrow, right?”
She nods and jumps off the island as I turn to leave, blocking my path. “You didn’t answer my question. Why are things with Zoey different?”
The words are right there on the tip of my tongue.Because I love her. Because she’s my soul mate. Because for the first time in my life all I want, all I can ever think of wanting is this one perfect person.But I don’t think it’s right to tell Dixie any of this before I tell Zoey.
There’s a knock at the door. “Expecting someone?”
She shakes her head, blond hair flying. I put down my bag and walk to the door, Dixie right on my heels. Before I can twist the lock there’s another knock and Zoey’s voice fills the air. “It’s another booty call dropping by unexpectedly!”
I frown. That’s not funny. Even Dixie’s not laughing. I open the door, and as soon as my eyes sweep over her face, I reach for her. “What’s wrong?”
She steps out of my grasp. Her skin is abnormally pale and she’s clutching her cell phone in a shaking hand in front of her chest. “You mean besides the fact that you left without a word in the middle of the night?”
Dixie makes some weird noise in her throat.
Zoey’s voice sounds funny. Hard but weak. She sounded like that when I found her in the lobby of the hotel, and I hated it then, and I hate it now. I start to reach for her again, but she looks at my hand like she’s trying to light it on fire, so I pull back and grip the doorframe. “I was just coming to talk to you about that. Come in.”
She shakes her head. “Okay.” She crosses her arms over her chest. “Talk.”
“Something tells me I should be somewhere else.” Dixie’s voice fills the air, and then she’s pushing me out of the doorway so she can leave. She stops in front of Zoey and touches her shoulder. “Call me. Whatever happens here, you’re my friend. Call me.”
She heads toward the elevator, but not before throwing one hell of an angry glare at me. I watch her push the elevator button and then pull my eyes back to Zoey. “Zoey, please come inside.”
“I don’t think I should,” she replies and presses her lips together for a moment before adding, “Because I want to. I want to go in there and have you feed me whatever line you think of to make me believe you didn’t run to another girl last night after having unprotected sex with me.”
“Unprotected?!” Dixie repeats, clearly judging the fuck out of us. Fucking great.
I grab the doorframe again and lean my upper body into the hallway because I have a feeling if I actually step toward Zoey she’ll leave. “Come inside.”
