Page 10 of Puck'N Enemy
Bastian nods, turning his attention back on Liam. They share a quick kiss before Liam hurries away to wait on another table.
A couple of puck bunnies hover around me, flicking their shiny hair in my face and doing their high-pitched, fake laughs, desperate to edge their way into our circle.
It should’ve felt good. Normal.
Instead, my skin prickles with a familiar awareness. It’s been the same way for the past few weeks.
Ifeelhim before I even see him.
Tilting my cup back slowly, I pretend to take a sip while my gaze roves over the diner as well as the street outside.
That’s when I spot Dylan, standing across the street from the diner, half-hidden behind a rusted lamp post like some terrible excuse for stealth.
He’s wearing the same stupid black hoodie. His auburn strands are messy as usual and falling over his eyes.
Dylan looks achingly familiar as he covertly watches me.
Since that night at the infirmary, he’s stayed away from me.
But I’vefelthim everywhere I went, like a ghost stuck just out of reach.
Dylan’s watched me take physical therapy sessions at the campus athlete center for the past few weeks. I even spotted him peeking at me during some of my classes.
He’s been breathing down my neck but keeping his distance from me.
My heart thuds painfully against my ribs. Even now, after everything that’s happened between us, a part of melikesthe fact that Dylan can’t stay away from me.
I force a smirk, laughing at something one of my teammates says, but my mind isn’t in it.
No. It’s with Dylan, hiding across the street, the traitor who left me bleeding years ago without a damn explanation.
I set my cup down. My body comes alive with a kick of adrenaline—the good kind. The dangerous kind.
I’m no longer broken or helpless.
If Dylan thinks he can keep spying on me without any consequence, he’s dead wrong. Keeping my movements casual, I stand and stretch lazily.
No one stops me as I put my phone in my pocket and step away from the table. They probably think I’m heading to the restroom.
Using their distraction, I make my way toward the kitchen.
The cooks and servers give me curious glances but no one stops me as I walk toward the back exit doors.
The stink from the overflowing dumpsters wafts into my nostrils as I step outside. Walking out of the alley, I find Dylan standing in the same spot, watching my friends.
A smirk lifts the corners of my lips.
Dylan probably thinks I’m using the restroom too.
I walk forward, keeping him in focus.
“Hey, asshole,” I call out loudly when I’m just a few feet away from him.
Dylan’s head whips toward me. His eyes widen in horror as he freezes for a second.
But I’m already sprinting, intent on not letting him run away from me that easily.
Dylan turns on his heels and runs.
