Page 8 of Zombies, Satyrs and Vampires, Oh My!

“Twatwaffle? Where do you come up with this stuff?”

“Irrelevant. The point is, you’re fabulous and Brian doesn’t matter so stop thinking about the nastiness he said when you told him you weren’t going to give him your V-card.”

He had been nasty. He’d called me a freak and a loser. Claimed I was still a virgin because no man wanted between my thighs and that he’d only offered because he felt sorry for me. Well, fuck him very much!

We only went out like three times, but it sucked to realize just how wrong I was about him.

“I know you. And you are neither cold nor frigid. He just said all that shit because when he kissed you it didn’t make you want to rip his clothes off. Clearly it was something he was doing wrong or not doing right. It had nothing to do with you,” Harry says emphatically.

“Not much easier on my own,” I grumble.

“Only because that butthole got in your head. There is nothing wrong with you. There’s nothing wrong with wanting to wait until you’re ready. Or until you meet someone special. Or until you get married. Do it however you want and forget stupid Brian. Why don’t you see if this hot guy who rescued you wants to make out or something? Maybe he’ll turn you on enough for sexy times.”

“Oh, should I just ask him when he comes back? Like where are the bathroom towels? Oh and by the way, can you see if you can get me wet enough that I want to do the dirty?”

Harriet cackles on the other end. “Yes! Please do it just like that. And set up a video so I can watch it later.”

“Harry, I’m serious. I don’t do that kind of thing, you know that.”

“So do it. You need an adventure.”

“I haven’t lived in one spot for longer than three months since college. My whole life is one adventure after another.”

“That’s not the kind of adventure I mean,” she chides. “And you know my opinion on that.”

I do indeed.

For the past year—ever since Brian, the last guy I went out on more than one date with—Harry has been badgering me to put down roots. She swears I’m not wandering, that I’m running.

And I’m starting to wonder if she’s right.

I’ve spent a lot of my life drifting. First because of my mother, and then because I didn’t know how to do anything else. I want more. I want a home.

And I don’t understand why meeting Atticus makes me want those things more keenly.

“You should do something wild while you’re there. Cut loose a little. What’s the point of traveling so much if you always treat it like a chore instead of an adventure? Why not do something you’d never normally do? It’s like how when you go to a new restaurant and you try something you’ve never had before.”

“You’re talking about a vacation fling,” I whisper.

“Exactly.”

I close my eyes and remember being in the woods. How the bark of the tree had felt pressed into my back, how unafraid I’d felt looking into Atticus’s luminous green eyes. Right on the heels of being rather terrified of the giant bug man.

“He licked my neck and growled, Harry,” I say.

“Oh my God, I think I just came a little. Why are you talking to me and not naked with him right now?”

“He left. He brought me to his mansion to keep me safe and then left to do something.”

“Mansion? Girl, I bet he has a sex room!”

Somehow I doubt that. “He seemed upset when he left.”

“Maybe he went back to see that other creep and beat his face in.”

“Doubtful.” Considering the ‘other creep’ had flown away.

“Well, whenever he comes back, strip off your clothes and jump his bones.”

I pause for a minute, knowing I have to ask. “What if he’s not human?”

She screams. “Oh my fucking God! Did you go to Screaming Woods without me? What is wrong with you?”