Page 21

Google is useless. Zach tuts as the robot in his car starts spewing off facts about William Shakespeare. Born in Stratford-upon-Avon, fifty-two when he died, yada yada yada. He turns the volume down as he signals to turn onto his road. (Zach, not William Shakespeare.) Zach is trying to figure out how to casually slip some Shakespearean lines into his vocabulary, and all it’s telling him is that he died years ago after writing a shitload of famous plays. Zach already knows that.

What he doesn’t know is how people start integrating the quotes into daily life. Last week, the quiz show he’s become attached to had a Shakespeare round, and since then, he’s been watching the clock for the moment it hit six thirty. (He doesn’t usually abide daytime tv, but Mali had leant her entire body forwards every time she was waiting to see if she got a question correct, and then she’d humph and steal sweets from the packet he had on his thigh when she was wrong, so now, he loves it.)

Sometimes when the adverts come on, she tells him things. Small things, like she’s looking at a green wig but she thinks she’d never wear it. Things like she prefers mint chocolate to orange chocolate. Things like it makes her happy when people say Shakespeare quotes in everyday life. (To be fair, that was in reference to the quiz show, but still, she told him.)And yes, ever since he found out, he’s read four sonnets and three plays. He’s not sure Romeo and Juliet is the romance everyone thinks it is, but he’ll watch the Baz Luhrmann version if she asks.

Often, she tells him bigger things, things she’s likely only told a handful of people, and it makes him feel like the luckiest guy in the world. Things like she always wants to be where her parents are. Like she wants to be married but she’s too scared to tell people that when she starts dating. Like physical touch is her love language. (She made him take a quiz, and apparently, he’s a words of affirmation guy, which makes him want to be sick, but then he imagines her telling him something and he thinks maybe the quiz was spot on.)

He tries to tell her things too, but he’s not good at it. Last week, he told her he hadn’t had a bath in years, and then spent the next ten minutes explaining what he meant while she tried not to laugh. Of course, she knows he bathes , it’s just that he hasn’t sat in a bath for a while. And then she told him she loves a bath, and he spent the next ten minutes trying not to get hard over the thought of her naked in the bath. Loser.

Zach wants to tell her more. Like how he’s bone tired, and the only thing he looks forward to is seeing her. That sometimes, he wishes he had the confidence to hug her. That he’s not religious but lately he’s been thinking there must be a higher being because how else does she exist? Maybe it’s her. That at nighttime he misses her so much that he dreams about a future where he doesn’t have to be away from her at all. Where they go to sleep in the same bed, and she wakes up and smiles at him. Then, he was thinking too hard, and children appeared, a house they bought together, a ring on her finger, and now he’s too scared to be alone with his thoughts ever again.

But he can’t tell her that because they’re friends, and there’s no world that he’d ever deserve her as a friend, let alone more than that. Mali’s not dating. Well, he doesn’t think she’s dating. He’s terrified to ask, because how does he even mention that casually? Oh, Mali, I think I’m falling in love with you. By the way, off topic, are you dating anyone? It’s her fault his mind is obsessed with her. Her in yoga shorts and a top with his name on it is seared into his brain. Her in his socks with no wig on. Her in her dressing gown and a facemask. He’s not been this horny ever. He’s never touched himself as much as he has since he moved in. It’s driving him crazy.

Zach drives towards the house. The front room light is on, and he wonders if she pressed play on their show even though he’s twenty minutes late.

God, is he tired. Practice was awful. He wasn’t bad or anything, but the team was tired, and it was pissing down, and people were slipping around. Devon wants money, and his mum needs a new place to live, and he spent an hour trying to move around people at the shops to make his mum dinner, and he forgot to get the milk Mali asked for. He rests his forehead against his steering wheel. He’ll pop to the corner shop in a moment. If it were anyone else, he might pretend he forgot altogether. But it’s Mali, and it’s impossible for him to say no to Mali. But he just needs a minute.

The door cracks open, the hallway light seeping out onto the garden path. Zach looks up, and Mali is standing there in his jumper, holding Buffy and waving at him. God, she’s cute. It makes him smile for the first time since he saw her this morning.

“Hey,” he says, as he gets out of the car. His back aches from the driving, but it feels immediately better when he stretches.

“Hi. You okay?”

“Yeah,” he replies, and he ushers her back into the house in case it gets too cold and she calls him out on it. She pops Buffy on the floor, who immediately worms his way around Zach’s legs. “You ever get somewhere and then have no energy to get out of the car?”

Mali hums as she walks to the kitchen. “Always.”

“I am happy to see you, though,” he replies, then bends down to stroke Buffy, who has decided he needs a cat stretch now. “Oh, big stretch!”

“Are you hungry?”

“Starving. I’m really sorry. I haven’t grabbed milk. I’ll run out after dinner.”

“That’s alright, I got it earlier.” When Zach walks into the kitchen, he sees the washing up away, dinner on the stove, and a bottle of milk next to the kettle. He almost weeps.

“I was supposed to do this,” he says, his voice quieter than it has been in a while. They decided on a loose rota after he’d been living with her a couple weeks. He puts the washing up away because he creates the most mess with his breakfast meal prep. Mali writes the shopping list. Zach takes the bins out. Mali hangs out the washing. It’s been working well, but today he slipped up. “It’s my day.”

“Yeah,” Mali replies, leaning against the kitchen counter. Her hair is freshly done, and she’s in those fucking shorts. She’s so pretty. Unsettlingly pretty. He wants to kiss her, touch her, love her pretty. “But you had a shitty practice, and you went to see houses today, so I knew you had to take care of everyone else.”

“So what?” he asks. He’s supposed to take care of her too.

“So I wanted to care of you.”

He doesn’t kiss her, because he doesn’t think she’d like that, and he doesn’t want to do anything to ruin this small piece of happiness. The slice that gets bigger with every smile she gives him, with every time that her toes touch his thigh to get him to pay attention to the television show, with every hum of her voice in the shower. But he does pull her into his arms, and he’s almost certain she was more than willing to go. His hands encase her back, and she hooks her arms around his waist.

Zach sighs, his cheek resting against the top of her head. He can’t believe this is the first time he’s hugged her properly. What a waste of his life, to not have been touching her. He cups the back of her neck with his palm, holding her as close as he can without straddling her on the kitchen floor. Her fingers trail up and down his spine, and with every flutter of her eyelashes against his chest, everything makes sense.

The oven beeps, and he almost throws it into the garden, but Mali shifts, and he guesses if she’s made dinner, he can at least be human enough to not ruin it for her. Before she leaves, he presses his lips to her forehead.

Mali keeps looking at him, but she hasn’t said anything. He took their plates out and made a tea, and she didn’t say anything. He got an answer wrong on their quiz, and she didn’t say anything. He feels like he’s turning inside out.

“Zach,” she says. It’s not a question, but he replies all the same.

“Yeah?”

“Have you had sex since you moved in?”

Zach’s chest caves in. Not because she’s asking him about sex and he doesn’t want to tell her. More because the only thoughts he’s had about touching anyone, looking at anyone, being attracted to anyone, centre around her.

“You don’t have to tell me,” she follows up, the blush rising on her cheeks though she pretends not to be affected. “I tried to talk to Frankie about it the other day, but I don’t know.”

Zach tries his hardest not to moan when he thinks about how long he thought about her standing behind him the other day. How he traced the crease of her bum in her shorts. How many times he’s fucked his fist to the thought of her praising him in bed.

He swallows. “You guys don’t girl talk?”

Mali glares at him, and he wonders if girl talk isn’t the right phrase anymore. “I don’t know. I like her a lot, but there’s of personal stuff within it. I’m sure I will at some point. Girl talk is fun.”

She feels comfortable with him. That’s why she’s asking him, and it makes him feel like he’s on fire. Even if he’s going to hear about her sex life and become a homicidal maniac if she tells him there’s anyone at work she wants to fuck. He wouldn’t do anything, obviously. He loves— likes her enough to want her to be happy. It doesn’t have to be with him.

“I haven’t had sex since I’ve lived here,” he says, leaning his head against the back cushion of the sofa. “And a little while before that.”

She frowns. “The papers are gross for always saying you were out if you weren’t. Well, they’re gross regardless.”

“True.” He shrugs. “But I don’t read them, or care.”

“So true of you,” she replies, copying his positioning. Her toes touch his calf.

“Why did you ask?”

She runs her tongue along her top lip. “I don’t really know. I’m having… I don’t know… changes? It’s making me feel as crazy as I did when I went through puberty.”

Zach smiles. “What changes?”

She plays with her fingers. “I’ve had sex before, but only ever when I’ve been in a relationship. I never really feel horny or anything unless there’s feelings there. I think. Like, I don’t see people and want to sleep with them. It takes some time, and usually, we’re dating by then.”

“Uh-huh.”

“So, well, I’m not in a relationship, and yet I’m horny all the fucking time, and I can’t do anything about it because you might hear me.”

Zach feels his eyes bug out. “Wait, what?” He doesn’t tell her it’s too late. He heard her last night, and the night before. He won’t tell her, because she looks embarrassed, and he doesn’t want her to be. He doesn’t tell her it’s the hottest thing to ever happen to him, and it’s blown every single sexual encounter he’s ever had out the water, and he wasn’t even there.

Mali laughs and leans her head into her hands. “God, this is so embarrassing.”

“You don’t need to be embarrassed,” he says, tapping her foot with his. He brings his leg up, bending his knee, and it has nothing to do with hiding his erection at the thought of her being horny, or touching herself, or her being alive.

“Why can’t you do anything when I’m here?” Zach asks. “I’ve never been in your room. Do you think I’ll think you’re having a nightmare at eight p.m. and come barging through your door?”

He jokes as if he’s not at a real risk of coming in his trousers from her words alone. The way her blush spreads down her neck. The way her throat bobs as she tries to avoid his gaze. The way he’s gripping the pillow to stop himself crawling to her.

“Oh my God, shut up!” She laughs. “I do. Well, I have.” She shuffles in her seat. “I don’t know if guys get this. I’ve tried googling it, but I can’t be bothered to scour Reddit—”

“Obviously.”

“Obviously,” she says with a laugh. “Sometimes, erm, if I just use my fingers or whatever, but—”

His heartrate quickens. She might be able to hear it. “What’s whatever?”

“No questions at this time,” she replies, and he laughs, using the motion to subtlety move his rock-hard dick. He wonders who she thinks about. Has she ever thought about him the way he thinks about her?

“Okay, so I’ll be doing—you know—it, and then the big finish happens, and it feels like I have a good half an orgasm left.” Do not ask her if she needs help. This is not a book. She is a friend and she’s casually asking her friend about an issue that does not require him to turn into a horndog even though he’s dangerously close to self-combustion.

“What?”

“Exactly! Like, I’m done, but I’m not done. It’s better with my vibrator, but I’m too worried you’ll hear.”

“Just ask me to go outside!”

“I’m not asking you to leave the house! Then you’ll know anyway, so what was the point?!”

Zach laughs harder than he has in ages. “Mal, I’ve never heard anything from your room. Just go for it.”

She groans. “If you hear, you’re not allowed to say anything.”

He draws a cross over his heart, and he wonders if the stabbing pain is because he’s lying to her.

“Why haven’t you had sex?” she asks. “Are the papers completely wrong and you’re not a pretty fuckboy?”

He groans. “I don’t think they ever said fuckboy.” She laughs. “It’s true. I used to go home with pretty much anyone with a decent face. It just lost its appeal.”

“It wasn’t fun?”

Zach shrugs. He’s never told anyone any of this before. Everyone thinks being able to go home with people is the best thing since sliced bread. Sex is fun most of the time, but he always felt used somehow.

“It was fine. Sometimes it was good, other times it was just kinda eh . I didn’t care enough to put in the effort. They only wanted to sleep with me because they knew I was a rugby player. I don’t know. No one ever wanted to sleep with me to get to know me. There was never breakfast dates or second times. It got tiring, I guess. Just sex is kinda dull.”

“What do you mean?”

He shrugs. “I’m just a guy that got into a somewhat lucky position, I guess, so I shouldn’t complain, but it was never more than penetrative sex. Quick sex. Neither of us were trying to make it good for anyone other than ourselves. I mean, I got them off—I’m not a savage—but it got dull.”

“Oh.” She frowns, then she shuffles in place. “So, like, and you can tell me to fuck off…”

“You can ask me anything.”

She swallows, her gaze slipping down his body, but he doesn’t think it’s on purpose. “Has no one given you head before? And, well, I guess… you don’t do that either?”

Zach tries is hardest, truly and honestly, not to think about Mali sucking him off or him eating her out. He truly does. He’s only about eight percent successful. He moves in his seat.

“Yeah,” he replies. “But not for a while. I got over wanting to please people I knew were using me, and they only wanted one thing, but I knew I had to do it anyway. It was just expected, you know? I didn’t get any pleasure from it. It was just easier to be quick and done.”

“You get no pleasure from going down on someone?” she asks, a frown on her face that suggested she gets pleasure from that. His stomach tightens. Maybe when she touches herself, she’s thinking about that. Before he can ask, she speaks again. “What do you mean it was expected?”

Zach shrugs. “I’ve always been a member of a team that can attract attention. I don’t know if it’s because I’m amazing—”

“True.”

“Shh.” He laughs, pushing his foot closer to her. “Or because I was too scared something would go wrong if I said no. But having someone on the team that’s always in the papers is good publicity, and I had no way to get there other than sex.”

Mali sits up, her face furious. She’s so pretty. “Does Frankie ask you to do that?”

Zach shakes his head. “Other teams. The Titans have been chill—the only media they care about is what you ask us to do. And I trust you, so I’d jump of a cliff if you asked me to.”

“I wouldn’t,” she replies, resting her hand on his foot. “Have you ever spoken to someone about it?”

He rolls his neck. “You’re the first person I’ve told. It’s not a big deal.”

“Honey,” she says, sitting up further. “I’m not trying to make this a bigger deal than you want, but it is a big deal. If you ever feel comfortable talking to a professional about it, you should. The team has a therapist. You could talk to them about anything.”

“You don’t want me to talk to you?”

“Of course I do,” she says, resting her hand against his shoulder. “I love talking to you about anything you’d ever wanna tell me. Just keep it in mind. You are more than your body and your face, as great as both those things are. You’re more than that.”

Zach smiles. “You have the hots for me.”

Mali blinks, frowning but but doesn't think it's because his joke didn't land. “Just think about it, okay? God, I feel kinda like I could fight a bear.”

Zach swallows as Mali’s face gets angrier. Is she mad at him? “Why?”

She looks over at him, and she looks so hurt. “Why was no one protecting you? I mean, who—who asks that? Who makes someone do that?”

“Mal, it’s okay.”

“Zach. Imagine I’d told you that.” He thinks about it. Mali telling him she had sex with people because she thought that’s what she had to do rather than because she wanted to.

“Oh.”

Mali kisses him on the shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

Zach shrugs again, then tucks her foot under his thigh. Everything that’s ever happened has led to this moment. That’s all that matters.

“You’re my favourite thing,” she whispers. “I’ll cut anyone who tries to make you do something you don’t wanna do.”

“I am so much your favourite, Mal,” he whispers back, a yawn cutting him off. His phone chimes with his houses of the day, and he’s so tired, and now all his brain power is in his dick and his half messed-up brain. Therapy was awful for the three weeks he had tried it last time, but maybe it would be better now.

Either way, he should look at the notifications. The housing market is brutal, Devon is three days away from being back in jail, and by then, his mum will have no appliances left.

“You are,” Mali says. She lies back in her spot, and he frowns as she holds her hand out, palm up, like she wants something. He wonders why she moved if she just wanted his face anyway. But he won’t question her—he moves forwards, placing his chin in her hand.

“Oh my God,” she squeals. “Don’t move.” She grabs her phone, and he grumbles but ultimately lets her take the photos. “You’re so fucking cute.” Zach frowns, but she just takes another photo. “If this becomes my phone background, you need to mind your business.”

Zach laughs, leaning back again. “What did you want if it wasn’t my face?”

“Your phone, dumbo.”

“Oh.” He hands it to her, and she hands it back because it’s locked. “7-8-1-6. What do you want it for?”

“I’ll look through houses. You’re too tired,” she says. There’s something on her face he can’t place.

“You don’t have to,” he replies, but he feels his eyes closing already.

“Honey, come here,” she says, holding her hand out again. Does she want his face again? Mali rolls her eyes, then shuffles until she’s flat on her back, and her legs widen slightly, like she wants him to lie on her. Against her body. His face somewhere near her tits like she didn’t just tell him she gets herself off in this house. Does she want him to die? Has she set up some kind of sponsorship for life insurance and she wants to cash in?

His eyes must be wide when she looks up at him because she laughs. “Just lie down.”

He does because she told him to, and because he wants to. Thankfully, when he rests his head against her chest, his dick is nowhere near her. It does rub against the sofa, and the inhuman strength he had to gather to not start thrusting now he has her under him should be studied. His feet are basically upright because his knees hit the end of the couch, but he’s so comfortable he doesn’t care if he looks ridiculous. He wraps his arms underneath her, one hand resting under her neck and the other against her waist.

Her voice is lower when she speaks again. “Wait, do you need two bedrooms?”

Zach frowns but makes no effort to move because he can feel her heartbeat from here. “No, just one.”

“’Kay. And, uhm… what else.”

Zach laughs. “Ground floor, as open as possible. It’s for Mum.”

“Oh. You’re not moving out?”

He sits up this time. One hand stays next to her neck, the other holding him above her. “What?” he asks, and he sounds truly broken. “You want me to move out?”

“No!” she says, her hand against his cheek. “I thought you were moving in with your mum. You haven’t unpacked, and—I don’t want you to go.”Her thumb rubs against his lower lip and he thinks this might be the sweetest torture.

Zach hums, then leans against her again, and she folds her arms around him, kissing the top of his head, and he might be in love with her for real. He feels Buffy jump onto his back, and Mali drops the hold she has on his hair and strokes Buffy instead. Zach grunts.

“I’ll bookmark the good ones. Go to sleep.”

“You’re so bossy, baby,” he mumbles.

“Mm-hmm.”

“If you only get horny when you’re in a relationship…” Zach starts, his thumb rubbing across her ribcage. “…does that mean you’re dating?”

“I’m not dating,” she whispers, and her free hand strokes the back of his neck again. Suck it, Buffy.

“You should be dating. You’re so pretty.”

Mali laughs, and he feels the vibrations against his cheek. He decides she’s not close enough, so he moves one hand from her waist and hooks it under her thigh, then drags her an inch closer.

“Go to sleep, smooth talker.”