Collide Into You: A Romantic Gender Swap Love Story (7 page)

“How long have you been standing there?” I ask.

“Long enough to realize you’ve had some sort of conversation in your head.” She gives me a once-over, like maybe she’s trying to figure out why I’m dressed casually. Or maybe she’s picturing me naked. I like the last thought better. “Is that Jon’s shirt?” Keira asks.

Ah, so she was inspecting my beat-up
VonSault Summer Rock Fest
T-shirt. Jon, Tanner, and I flew to Germany two years ago to attend the five-day-long fest. Sadly, I don’t remember much of it. Too much Dunkelweizen. Though I do remember that that’s when Jon and Tanner revealed their feelings for each other. In a way, that summer rock fest was the start of my life changing.
 

Jon and Tanner quickly turned serious and I turned into the welcomed third wheel. I wasn’t bitter about it. Not in the least. I couldn’t be more happy for them, and they make a great couple. In a way, wearing the shirt made me feel a bit closer to them, to the way it used to be.

It dawned on me that maybe I want what they had. That maybe I’m not complete, either.
 

You could use a challenge.
Was that challenge standing in front of me, giving me an odd look?

“Dillan?” Keira had a bored, yet amused, look on her face.

“Jon and Tanner have the same shirt. I was just remembering the fest, the beer, and the pretty German girls. Good times.”

Her eyes narrow at me, which was the point. I don’t want her to know what I am really thinking.

“Do you speak German?”

“No, but I’m fluent in a woman’s body language.”

“Right,” she says, and walks away from me. When she reaches her door, she turns around. “What’s my body language saying right now?”

I put my finger to my temple, as if to illustrate that she’s a puzzle. I study her unguardedly. Her dark hair is pulled up in a bun, but it’s a little disheveled, and wisps of hair frame her heart-shaped face. I would call her charming, but I would never admit to using the word
charming
.
 

She’s still wearing her Army uniform, but it isn’t difficult to imagine her in her running outfit. Keira, at five-eight or five-nine, is on the slim side, and I wonder what she looks like naked.

Reading Keira is simple. I don’t need a dictionary or a translator to know that she’s annoyed at me and probably with the discussion, too.

“It says that you’re hungry,” I say. When she laughs, I know I caught her off guard, and in a good way. Maybe she isn’t a robot.

“Do you want to go out tonight?” Keira asks. She says it so fast that I get the impression she blurted it out before she could change her mind. Victorious lightning strikes shoot up and down my body.
Why yes, I am an agreeable gentleman
, I think. But I should haven’t felt smug so soon. She wasn’t finished. “The sergeant I work with asked me to join his group tonight. They need even numbers for the two bowling teams, and with me added, it makes the numbers odd. So I volunteered you.”

“Wait,” I say. I keep the jealousy out of my voice. “Let me get this straight. You were asked out tonight, but because the group now needs another person—any poor schmuck will do—you signed
me
up?”

“Calm down, Dillan. It’s not like I put you on a black market donor list for organ harvesting. It’s just bowling. I talked to Jon about it and he said you can—”

I cut her off, suddenly upset that she consulted Jon before asking me. “That I can
go
?” I scoff. “I don’t need Jon’s permission to go out with his sister.”

Keira’s mouth turns into an O. Instantly, I know I’ve said the wrong thing. I let the idea of her going out on a date affect me. I’ve turned a simple conversation into something else entirely. Into something
awkward
.

“To spare yourself any future embarrassment, let me finish what I’m saying before you jump in with the first stupid thought that materializes in that brain of yours,” she says. “Jon said you can
bowl really well
.” Keira clears her throat. “Did you and Jon argue before I moved in? I mean, you two are still friends, right?”

Should I fib or tell the truth?

“He’s still my best friend and will be for the rest of my life. Jon’s like a brother to me. He cares about you, that’s all.”

“You sounded like an automaton just then. I’m not in elementary school, Dillan. Obviously something was said. Spill it.”

I can’t tell if she’s upset or if this is just everyday business with her brother.

“You’re off limits.” I take a few steps toward her. I see her working her jaw, like she’s trying to keep her anger in check. I like how hot she looks right now. “I’m not allowed to touch you.” A few more steps. I lower my voice. Maybe by telling her she isn’t allowed to have me, I can work this in my favor.
But am I willing to endanger my friendship with Jon just to get a rise out of Keira?
Yes. Yes, I am. “I’m not allowed to flirt with you.” I’m a few inches away. She smells like cherry Chap Stick and dusty books. “I shouldn’t fix your hair.” I tuck a wisp behind her ear. She shudders under my fingers. “I’m not supposed to tell you that you’re beautiful or that I want to know how your lips will taste.” I trail a finger down her chin and move in slightly. “And guess what?” I ask now that my lips are scant seconds away from being able to kiss her delectable lips.

“What?” she asks in a husky whisper. She swallows quickly, and her intake of breath and the fluttering of her eyelids burns my insides like something fierce.

I can’t believe I’m about to do what I’m about to do.

I take a step back. Then another, and another, until I’m several feet away. Her eyes shoot daggers at me, but other than that, she looks just like she did earlier. Inconvenienced. Annoyed. Then bored.

“I won’t be doing any of those things, Keira,” I say seriously. I feel the lie deep in my stomach, but there’s no way I can let Keira know that she truly affects me. If I kissed her, she wouldn’t have stopped me. Not right away, at least. She was caught up, just like I was. But there would have been regret on both sides, and I didn’t want to live like that with her. “I promised Jon that I’d keep my distance. And I keep my promises. Plus,” I say, raising a hand as if to illustrate the point further. She lifts an eyebrow like she just can’t wait to hear the wisdom. “I spoke to Tanner this morning.” Both eyebrows go up now. “I know that you lied about this weekend. Not nice, Keira.”

There. I got her back, but if the anger coming off her had a heat signature, I’d have first degree burns all over my body. It was totally worth it.

Keira

I
CAN
’
T
BELIEVE
I
ALMOST
let him kiss me. I can’t believe that I kinda-sorta-maybe wanted him to kiss me. Dillan! My brother’s best friend. The man whore I’m rooming with. The man who’s sexier than just about any other man I’ve ever seen. And he played me. Oh, he played me good.

I take a deep breath and curb my anger. I’ve got no one but myself to be angry with. Dillan was being Dillan. I expect him to act that way, and I shouldn’t have succumbed.
 

But I did, dammit!

“Is that all Jon said to you on the subject?” I ask as if it’s no big deal, as if I wasn’t upset that my brother decided to treat me like a child. Granted, this is Dillan Pope we’re talking about. But still. I certainly wasn’t desperate enough to jump in the sack with my roommate after living with him for all of three days. I know enough about his reputation that Jon shouldn’t have to worry about it. Furthermore, who cares what I or Dillan do? It isn’t Jon’s business who I date. “Because he said a whole hell of a lot more to me.”

Dillan folds his arms across his chest. “Yeah, like what?”

“Jon rattled off all the STDs you’ve had, how many sexual partners you’ve been with, and how you have a penchant for blondes. Needless to say, Jon is rather happy that I’m a brunette.”

My roommate doesn’t look pleased. His face has turned red and his eyes narrow. I glance at the clock. He follows my gaze.

“Am I keeping you from your bowling orgy?” he asks roughly. His voice is equal parts sandpaper and quiet displeasure. All I can think about is how this is a lot like foreplay. I sort of like it.

“Why does everything have to be about sex with you?” I ask. “This,” I motion between the two of us, “shouldn’t be complicated. We’re roommates, not lovers. Once you get past the fact that we can be friends without having to have sex or flirt or whatever, the quicker we can over whatever hostility you hold toward me.”

Dillan grits his teeth. “I do not feel any hostility toward you, Keira.”

“Is that so? Then how come you went as far as pretending to try and kiss me to prove a point? That’s not just hostility, that’s playing with someone’s emotions.
My
emotions, Dillan. It isn’t fair. It isn’t nice. It’s sexist. I get it. You’re good looking. You can have almost any girl you want just by blinking at her. I’m not some doxy or a girl you can pick up for a one-night stand. Look at me,” I say. I tug at my uniform, illustrating my next point. “I’m a soldier, Dillan. I’ve been deployed three times. I’ve seen things no one should have to see, and I’ve got to live with that. I’m proud to serve our country. I love it, in fact. You may think I’m stiff and stuffy, and that’s fine. It doesn’t bother me. Well, maybe it does a little bit, but those things aren’t all that define me, so I can let the insults slide off my back. Besides, I know you really don’t mean them. Listen,” I pause. “I’m sorry for lying to you about Tanner’s invitation. I promise that I was going to tell you.”

My roommate lets out a long breath and shoves his hands in his jeans pockets. “I guess I never thought of it that way. I’m sorry for treating you with anything less than respect, Keira. Can I call a cease-fire? How about a treaty? The Dillan-Keira Peace Treaty?”

I stare at him for a moment. He truly looks sorry. Penitent, actually. For some stupid reason, I also notice that his hair is a bit lopsided, and lopsided is exactly how I’d describe the boyish grin tugging at his lips right now.

“Okay. I prefer that it be called The Keira-Dillan Peace Treaty. So…” I hesitate, wondering if I should bring the bowling subject back up. “Did you want to go bowling or not? I agreed to meet them at six.”

He looks at the clock and sees what I do. Fifteen minutes from now.

“You do realize that if I go, the peace treaty doesn’t apply to bowling, right?”

“I’m not worried,” I say with a grin. I’m glad we settled our differences. I have a feeling things will be different from here on out. I turn to go inside my bedroom to change. “I’ll be out in a minute.”

“Two, eight, and twelve,” Dillan says suddenly.

“What?”

“I’ve had two
curable
, sexually transmitted diseases, eight one-night stands, and,” he pauses, obviously counting, “Twelve serious-ish relationships.”

“Oh,” I say for lack of a prepared response. How does one respond that something like that? I can’t just say
thank you
or
that’s awesome
or
congratulations
.
 

Truth is, that’s not nearly as bad as I thought it would have been. As for the first number, well, zero would have been better. Two wasn’t terrible. As for the second, I’ll honestly admit that I assumed it would be in the higher double-digits. Eight one-night stands? That isn’t a deal breaker, not for a man in his thirties.
 

Twelve relationships? That’s a lot of ex-girlfriends.
What about just regular hookups that weren’t one-night-stands or relationships?
That number must be pretty high and, if I’m being honest with myself, I don’t want to know it.

“Your turn,” he says. Dillan is grinning like he’s trapped me in a manner I could never get myself out of. “Out with it. I told you mine, now tell me yours, or I’ll force you to tell me.”

“Why on earth would I tell you that information?”

“Well, just by saying that, you’ve already confirmed for me that the answer isn’t zero for any of them. Tell you what, Sergeant Brunette,” he laughs. “Whoever has the higher bowling score tonight wins.”

“Meaning that if you have the higher score, I’ll owe you an answer?”

“You’re a quick one!”

I roll my eyes. “What do I get if
I
have the higher score?”

He cocks an eyebrow. I feel like there’s a world to discover inside those eyes. “What do you want to know?” he asks.

I think about this and realize that there isn’t much I want to know. Well, maybe I should rephrase it by saying
I don’t know where to begin
with what to know about him. Secretly, I want to know everything.

Then I have an idea. It’s stupid, but playful, and I actually want to know the answer.

“You know what Stacey wrote on the bathroom mirror?” I ask, and Dillan nods. “I want to know what she meant when she wrote,
I loved it when you put it there
.”

I had a feeling he’d like to do more than
tell
me about it. If given the chance, he’d
show
me.

“Seriously?” he asks with a short, disbelieving laugh, like maybe I’m punking him. “It’s not what you think it is, Keira.”

“Then you shouldn’t be afraid to tell me in, oh,” I check my wristwatch, “four hours from now.”

He shakes his head. “Ditto. You’ve got a deal.”

Dillan

K
EIRA
EXITS
HER
BEDROOM
WEARING
a colorful quarter-sleeve T-shirt, jeans, and blue canvas shoes. Her hair is not quite up and it’s not quite down. More of a slap-together, messy ball at the nape of her neck that looks adorable as hell. I can tell that she doesn’t give a crap about what she looks like tonight. It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask her,
Is that what you’re wearing?
But I hold back. She’s comfortable and I completely respect that.

I mean, it’s just bowling.

Also, whoever’s asked her out, I can tell she doesn’t view it as a date. Otherwise, I imagine she would have put more than five minutes into getting ready. Hell, she spent more time arguing with me than getting dressed.