Collide Into You: A Romantic Gender Swap Love Story (21 page)

BOOK: Collide Into You: A Romantic Gender Swap Love Story
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I try, and fail, to remember those reasons I came up to break up with her. Something of Dillan must still be in there—
there
—because my lower-half tingles. Like, tingles and itches and my hand is dying to adjust the area.

I clear my throat. I must not, at any cost, go into that bedroom. My stomach gurgles. I think I’m going to be sick. I don’t know if it’s the hot dogs or what, but my hand flies to my stomach.
 

“You know,” I tell Dillan’s girlfriend, who’s now moving toward me. I feel like one of those victims tied to a railroad. Stacey’s the train. “I don’t feel all that well.” She starts pushing me into the bedroom.

I have never been in this particular situation before and my brain literally flies the coop.

“I have the exact prescription waiting for you in your bedroom, Dillan. I’ve had more than an hour to come up with how to punish you. I hope you don’t have plans tonight.”

In addition to being incredibly beautiful, Stacey is incredibly strong. My manly body obeys her and she throws me into the room and then shoves me onto the bed. She doesn’t even bother with the door. I try to get up, but she easily thwarts my movements.

Like some sort of ninja, she removes my shirt well before I even know she’s done it. She throws it across the room. Great. There goes the first article of clothing. I grasp at the edge of the sheets, pulling it, and only manage to bring it over a few inches. Not enough to cover Dillan’s chest. I’m not willing to think about what the man-junk between my legs is doing at the moment. It’s intense. It’s heat. It’s confusing me.

Stacey laughs. “This is new. Playing the virgin tonight?”

I keep my eyes plastered to her determined face and not her sheer lingerie as she crawls on top of me and begins to fumble with the button to my jeans. I say
fumble
because my hands are actively blocking hers. Her eyes narrow.

“Really, I don’t feel well,” I say. I stress each word as I sit up. Unfortunately, I have bad timing. Stacey re-situates herself and I end up head-butting her.
 

Dammit!
Now I’m a girlfriend beater. Dillan must have a thick skull because I barely felt it.
 

“Ouch,” she mutters, rubbing her forehead. The skin is a little red around her hairline. “I swear, it’s like you’ve never done this before. You really must not feel well, Dillan.”

“Sorry.” My stomach gurgles loudly. Stacey, still sitting on me, jumps a little and tilts her head questioningly. It’s totally the hot dogs. I feel the pressure move lower into my belly. Normally I am in full control of my own body. My
regulated
body. Normally I can make it to a restroom in time. But I’m not in tune with Dillan’s body. This might actually be normal for him.

I’ll never forget Stacey’s expression right then. It’s a cross between surprise and disgust. Like she can’t believe what’s happening. My ass vibrates when I fart. It’s more or less an explosion. It’s loud enough to wake the dead. It’s loud enough to tear Dillan from my bedroom.

It’s loud enough, and stinky enough, for Stacey to scramble off me, dress in a hurry, and rush out of the apartment.

“I told you those hot dogs were going to get you,” Dillan says from the open doorway. His arms are crossed as he looks down at me.

I suppose I traded one embarrassment—Stacey seducing me—for another—passing gas in front of other human beings.

“I think I just broke up with your girlfriend,” I say.

Dillan

“O
H
MY
G
OD
,” I
SAY
without thinking. “That smells terrible.” I back away from the door, waving a hand in front of my face. I need a gas mask for that one.
 

I’m not worried about Stacey. Either she’ll be back or she won’t.

“The way she was sitting on me didn’t help,” Keira says meekly. As far as excuses go, it was on the weak side, but now is not the time to challenge her.

Keira isn’t wearing a shirt. Stacey must have taken it off before Keira could stop her. I’m actually impressed that she was able to keep Stacey’s experienced hands off her for as long as she did.

“Here.” I find the shirt on the other side of the bedroom and hand it to her. Her face is red as she puts it back on. “I should have warned you. Stacey can be a bit…”

She avoids looking at me. “Aggressive?” Keira suggests, before stalking out of my bedroom. She takes a few hard strides to the fridge, grabs a beer, and downs it in a few gulps. She’s been a man for less than a day, but she’s already mastered the
I’m upset so I’m going to drink a beer
method of coping with something. “My goal was to avoid her at all costs. I wasn’t exactly successful there, was I?”

“I’d say you were entirely successful. I don’t think I’ve been this entertained in years.”

Her nostrils flare. “I’m so glad I can amuse you, Dillan. Is there anything else you’d like to see? I’m taking requests.”

“Whoa, put the fangs away, Sergeant.”

Keira finally looks at me and stops cold. “What the hell are you wearing? Alec will be here in five minutes.”

I conduct what I presume is a fashion model’s pose. I twirl around and place a closed hand under my chin. All that’s missing is glaring lights, heavy makeup, and a purple feather boa. Make that a dozen purple feather boas. “You don’t like? Before Stacey erotically pushed you into my bedroom, you mentioned Alec said to wear workout clothes. Ta-da!”

“I swear to God,” she mutters under her breath. “So you chose a sports bra and my competition shorts? Why not meet him wearing my underwear?” For some reason, she suddenly squats down and looks up my legs. “Jesus,” she hisses. “You have to wear athletic underwear under those shorts. Unless you want the world to see my labia.” 

Keira thumps my forehead.

Ow!

“Your la—” I sputter. “I got dressed with my eyes closed, Keira. As much as I wanted to look at your amazing body in the mirror, I didn’t. I respected your wishes. I grabbed stuff and put it on.”

“Oh,” she says. She looks at me without blinking for several long seconds. It’s like she’s never seen me before. “I, uh, well…” She hesitates instead of apologizing. “Let’s pick out another outfit, okay?” She walks to her bedroom door. “By the way, your beer is really good.”

I can feel the smile tugging at my lips. “Thank you. I accept your apology.”

She stares at me like she’s debating whether to cut me down or compliment me further. Finally, in a soft tone, she says, “Thank you for getting dressed with your eyes closed. It’s actually kind of sweet.”

The smile on my face grows as she slips into her bedroom and comes out with a pair of dark brown yoga pants and a pale pink T-shirt.

“I’m kind of a sweet guy.”

“Don’t push it.” Keira shakes her head, laughs, and then throws the clothes at my head.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” I say as I dress.

I’m such a liar.

Chapter Twenty-One

Keira

I
FEEL
A
LITTLE
BETTER
about the situation. Okay, not really. I’d rather not be in this predicament in the first place, but at least I can tell that Dillan is trying to be respectful toward me and his temporary ownership of my body.

Yeah, he’s sarcastic, but maybe he isn’t so bad.

And maybe I shouldn’t be so hard on Dillan. He is, after all, my brother’s best friend. My thoughts are diverted by a knock at the door. Dillan answers it. Alec and Tanner step inside. Alec looks casual but adorable. His red-blond hair and blue eyes stand out against a faded baseball jersey and long athletic shorts.

He turns to Dillan. “I thought we might take a turn or two at the batting cages.”

“Sounds like fun,” Dillan says. He uses a chipper voice that I wouldn’t be caught dead using. “I’ll see you two later,” he calls to us, waving a dainty arm. I do not wave that way.

Tanner shifts around as Dillan and Alec leave. I try not to stare as the door closes. I want to call out something about curfews and serial killers and the importance of safe sex. I don’t, of course.

Tanner nudges me in the ribs. “Hey, bro.”

After a mini-panic I just say, “Hey, bro,” back. Do they hug, or shake hands, each time Dillan and Tanner see each other? In the end, I go with a back-slap greeting. “Want a beer? How was the game this afternoon?” The white tape is still around his wrist. I wonder how many innings he played.

“I’m crushed you didn’t watch it on TV,” he says with a laugh. “I’ll take that beer, though. The Orioles got the best of us today.” Tanner moves into the living room and asks, “What happened to the living room?”

I hand over a beer. I keep one for myself and we survey the room together. It was like someone lifted the entire apartment, tilted it sideways, and all the furniture slid to the far end of the room.
 

“I was thinking of rearranging the furniture. Change isn’t bad, right?”

Tanner gives me an odd look. “Is this the final configuration?”

“I think I was going for an abstract look. Furniture as art. Or something like that.”

“Oh, I see how it is.” He gives me a look that I can only understand as a
knowing look
. Like he understands a deeper meaning attached to my words. Hopefully he will enlighten me because I have no idea of what his look might mean.

“How is it?” I ask. To hide my confusion, I take another sip of beer.

“You’re trying to impress Keira.”

I nearly cough up my beer. “Come again?”

“Come on, Dillan. This is
me
you’re talking to. Jon and I both know that you’ve had the hots for her for years.”

Dillan

T
HERE

S
A
SMALL
PART
OF
me, as I slide into Alec’s Corvette, that wants to stay in Keira’s body as long as possible. This car is a
love at first sight
car. Buttery-soft seats. Sexy red exterior. And when the engine revs, I can only describe the sound as a woman’s version of a wet dream. The core part of me—of Keira’s body—purrs and I seriously consider making out with Alec Huffman. If he tries.

I’m not opposed to enjoying new experiences. Once, long before Jon met Tanner, Jon kissed me. We were a few beers in and he wanted to know why every woman I met wanted to kiss me.
 

We were twenty-one, full of college textbooks, legally allowed to drink, and Jon had a lot of pent-up sexual frustration. I remember wondering at the time why it took him so long to kiss me. It wasn’t that I wanted him to. I figured he’d try one day and, when he realized I didn’t think of him that way, that he’d get over his infatuation. Because when he first met me, he always looked like he wanted to devour me.

After being dorm buddies for a few years, he asked me if I wanted to go to his sister’s graduation party and meet his parents. It was late at night and we were sitting in our dorm room, on the couch, watching old movies. When I said yes, he leaned over and kissed me. Briefly. I don’t think our lips touched for more than a few seconds. When Jon pulled back, I read his expression. He knew. He knew I’d never think of him that way. But he also knew I wasn’t offended.

“Just wanted to see what all the fuss was about,” Jon said after a few minutes.

“What’s the consensus?” I asked in return, smiling. I felt euphoric as well as buzzed.

“I don’t see what the big deal is,” Jon said, laughing into a beer.

And I agreed. I still do. Years later, when he met Tanner, I turned the tables on him and asked him what the consensus was. He grinned and answered, “I understand now what all the fuss is about.”

Now, as I sit in Alec Huffman’s car, I’m reminded of that conversation as he looks over at me—at Keira—smiling like he genuinely likes her, and I can’t help but admire the MLB pitcher’s taste in women.
 

Once we are back in our respective bodies, will Keira want to experience, firsthand, what all the fuss is about with regards to Alec? Or with me?
 

It’s only then that I realize it’s not my decision to make.

Keira

I
STARE
AT
MY
BROTHER

S
boyfriend, a man who is like a brother to me, and I try to keep the shock off my face. Apparently it doesn’t work.

“Don’t act like we haven’t been down this road, Dillan. I know that Jon feels differently about you liking his sister, but in the end, you know he’ll be cool with it.”

“I don’t like Keira,” I say. How can Tanner stand there and claim this? Like
I
don’t have a say in the matter.
If Dillan decides it’s okay, then who cares what I think?
“And I’m sure she doesn’t like me. I’m in the mood to go for a run. Want to go?”

He feels my forehead. “Run? What are you talking about? And you don’t like Keira? Since when?”

I let the running comment go. I can’t begin to explain the itch in my legs that make me desirous to go running. Like right now.

“Since she moved in,” I say. “She’s a real pain in the ass.”
 

“In what way?” Tanner asks with an arched eyebrow. Clearly, he isn’t believing a word I say.

“She’s…” What would Dillan say about me? “She’s too quiet.”

“Uh huh. Because a quiet person is often accused of being a pain in the ass. What else?” Tanner puts his beer down and starts to move the furniture back to their proper places. “You just going to stand there, or what?”

I move the coffee table to where I think it goes. I can’t seem to recall how the living room was previously arranged. How fastidious is Dillan?
 

“I suppose I should turn topic and tell you why
she
doesn’t like
me
. I’m egotistical. I date a lot of women and she thinks I have no regard for their feelings. On at least two occasions, she’s called me a man whore. I’m sarcastic. I don’t take anything seriously. I also believe she thinks I’m too good-looking.”

“It’s almost as if she wrote down the list for you,” Tanner says faux-seriously. He finds a remote, changes the input on the TV, and magically finds a set of game controllers I never knew existed. “If you ask me, bro, if Keira really said that to you, then flip it. She means the exact opposite. I’ve seen the way she looks at you. And,” he says, pointing a finger at me, which then points to the couch, as in
sit down now
, “anytime any of us talk about you, if she’s around, she hangs onto every word.”

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