Page 60 of Sweet Chaos
He leaned over the center console, cut the engine and pocketed the keys. “You’re not fucking going anywhere.”
That’s what he thought. I slammed out of the car, ordered a taxi and walked to the end of the driveway to wait for it. Was I being dramatic? Maybe. But while I’d gone to get coffee, another ugly thought had reared its head. What if Dylan had lied? What if he wasn’t really over Sienna like he’d claimed? What if the news of her engagement had sent him spiraling down? Maybe that was why he’d taken off for days and had gotten falling down drunk tonight. Or maybe this was the way he operated. Hit and run.
There were too many maybes and not enough answers and I was too tired to think about it.
A few minutes later, the taxi arrived, and I tugged the door open. A hand wrapped around my arm pulling me back, then he stepped forward and closed the car door. “Don’t leave.”
“I need to go home, Dylan. Just let me go.” I was weary of this battle.
He wrapped his arms around me from behind and buried his face in the crook of my neck. “I don’t want to be alone. Stay. Please,” he added, and it almost sounded like he was begging me to stay.
Dylan never begged. Never said please. But tonight he’d done both. And I remembered what Nic had said about Dylan nursing me back to health. She told me he’d been so amazing, checking my temperature throughout the night, wiping my forehead with a cool washcloth, and worrying about me.
Could I be the bigger person and do the same for him?
“Are you coming or not?” the taxi driver asked impatiently.
Clearly, I was a glutton for punishment. Someone must have dropped me on my head when I was a baby because I shook my head no when I should have nodded yes. “Sorry about that.”
The driver huffed and pulled away, leaving me with Dylan who took my hand and led me back to his house. It had been a long night and I felt weary and confused as I followed him up the stairs to the second floor.
In his bedroom, he opened a dresser drawer and gestured with his hand. “T-shirts are in there. Take what you want.”
I hovered in the doorway until he disappeared into the master bathroom, leaving the door open. A few seconds later, I heard the shower running so I grabbed a soft gray T-shirt from the drawer and wandered down the hallway to the last bedroom on the left. Dressed in his T-shirt that hit mid-thigh and smelled like fabric softener and not like him, thank God, I rubbed toothpaste over my teeth with my finger and gargled with mouthwash I found in the cabinet.
Crawling into bed, I covered myself with the downy white comforter and rolled onto my side. The moonlight streamed through the French doors, casting the room in shadows.
Oh, Romeo, why did you have to crawl into my bedroom window all those years ago? I was never supposed to fall for you.
I heard the bedroom door open, and closed my eyes, feigning sleep.
Seconds later, his minty breath skated over my face, the scent of his shower gel masking the stench of whiskey. I kept my eyes closed and my breathing even waiting for him to leave.
But I should have known better than to think he’d give up that easily.
The covers slid down my body and he lifted me up and carried me in his arms like a bride, over the threshold and down the dark hallway, his stride surprisingly steady for someone who was so drunk.
“What are you doing?” I struggled to break free of his hold, but he just held on tighter. “Put me down.”
“Thought you were asleep.”
“I was until you woke me up.”
He snorted, not buying my lie for a minute, and tossed me on his bed. I scrambled to get off it, but his hand clasped my ankle and he dragged me back and pulled my body against his.
We were spooning. Dylan was spooning.
“Are we… cuddling?” I got a grunt in reply. I could feel his erection pressing against my backside. “What are you doing?”
“You’re safe, Mother Teresa. I’m not going to fuck you tonight,” the charmer said, sliding his hand under my T-shirt and splaying it across my stomach. I looked over my shoulder at his face. His eyes were closed.
Seconds later, he was snoring softly. His chest rose and fell, his breathing even, and I knew he was asleep. I stared into the darkness, my body curled into the curve of his, and I fought to stay awake. I knew that if I closed my eyes, and allowed myself to relax, I’d sleep like a baby in his arms.
But I needed to leave. My fragile heart demanded it.
23
Dylan
