Page 47 of Revolve
“I didn’t finish because I was trying to get you out of there before you became best friends with my mom and told her everything.”
“We already are. She just texted me the recipe for herbliny.” He glances at me. “Why haven’t you told her about us? Embarrassed?”
“If they find out Kilner and Lidia put us together, they’ll know that no one wanted me.”
The silence stretches, thick and uncomfortable. He doesn’t even have any music on, and I wonder if it’s because of my headache.
We drive like that for a while before Dylan says, “Can you grab my bag from the back seat?”
“Your bag?” I ask, glancing at him suspiciously, but oblige. I lean back and grab it from the seat, placing it onto my lap as he digs into it and pulls out a brown paper bag.
“There are two sandwiches in there.” He points to the bag. “Take one.”
“A sandwich?” My heart thumps slowly. I never bring a mid-practice snack—my body hasn’t earned it. Justin and I never had cheat days; his diet was strict, and so was mine. A few thousand calories a day depending on what we needed. Nothing more, nothing less.
“Should I be worried about you?” he asks, his eyes still on the road.
“Why?”
“Because I think you’re losing your hearing.”
I scoff. “I just find it interesting that you happened to have an extra sandwich. Peanut butter, of all things.”
“That matters because …?”
I eye him suspiciously. “I love peanut butter.”
“That’s cute,” he says. “You’re like one of those dogs.”
“Funny,” I mutter.
“Is that also why you chose yesterday to run off to your parents’ house?” he says, glancing at me, his hands tightening on the steering wheel.
“I told you I didn’t run away.”
“So it wasn’t because of what happened during our mat session?”
Great, okay, so we’re talking about this. I’m still hoping we can forget about it like a bad dream. I decide to go that route. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Ah, so that’s how we’re going to play it?” he asks. “I thought you were braver than that, Sierra. Seemed like the case when you were on top of me.”
“Look, I—”
“Why did you kiss me?” he asks. There’s something about the question that feels heavier than it should.
“Y-you kissed me too,” I say defensively, though he just gives me a sidelong glance. I sigh. “I wasn’t thinking, and it’s been a while. But don’t worry, I know we’re partners, and we shouldn’t do that.”
“We shouldn’t?”
“Yeah, I mean, I don’t usually do things like that. It’s not me. And I know that must sound stupid to you because, you know …” I gesture to him. He’s so confident in himself and sex. He makes it look so uncomplicated.
“Right,” he says tightly. “I know.”
I don’t say anything else, and neither does he, but I can’t help but notice the way his shoulders square and his Adam’s apple bobs.
The rest of the ride to the rink is quiet, and this time when we get to the arena, Lidia leads us to an actual training room. But it’s nothing like yesterday. Dylan barely even looks at me.
EIGHTEEN
