Page 14 of The Boy I Once Loved

He sighs and mutters something under his breath that I can’t make out. “I’m just going to help you get your sock and shoe off and then I’ll help you with your leggings.” Before I can object further, he grabs my foot and pulls my trainer off, throwing it over his shoulder. “Aw, harry potter socks.”

I scowl at his teasing. He stands and offers out his hands. “Come on, stand up and let’s get these off.” He gestures with his head to my leggings. Knowing I can’t do this without his help, I put my hands in his and allow him to help me stand on my feet. His hands find the waistband of my leggings and his thumb brushes against my bare skin, making my breath falter. He pauses and gulps before hooking his other thumb on my waistband and he carefully tugs them down. As he pulls them down over my hips, one of his hand’s skirts over my arse. My hands that are gripping tightly to his shoulders squeeze tighter. His hand pulls them down my thighs, his thumbs brushing down my skin, making me shiver. When he has them down to my knees, he clears his throat and tells me I can sit back down. He crouches down in front of me and he pulls them off my legs and onto the floor.

“Okay, PJs probably aren’t the best idea.”

I point to the set of drawers opposite the bed. “I have some bed shorts in there.” He leaves me and goes to rummage through the draw. I hear him chuckle as he finds what he is looking for.

"Don't say a word, Dyl," I warn when he holds up my bed shorts and cocks a brow in question. Yes, my bed shorts were Snoopy ones. With that annoying grin on his face, he walks back over and kneels at my feet and pulls them over both feet. He slowly slides them up my legs stopping mid-thigh. "Okay, up again." He doesn't offer out his hands this time. Instead, he just puts them at my waist and hoists me to my feet, making me wobble slightly and grasp onto his biceps.

“Can you stay steady whilst I pull them up?”

Unable to speak the words, I simply nod. I move my hands around his shoulders as he bends down and pulls them up over my thighs and hips. His thumb brushes across my stomach slowly before he lets go, and it leaves me tingling everywhere. I hate that his touch affects me so much, even after all these years apart. Not wanting to meet his gaze, I pull my hoodie off over my head. Luckily, I have a vest top on underneath that will be okay to sleep in. I shuffle back on the bed whilst he picks my discarded clothes up and deposits them in my laundry basket.

He comes to stand at the bottom of my bed and just looks at me with an expression I cannot fathom. “I’ll err, go and fetch your drink up.” He turns on his heels and bolts out of the room. Jesus, he couldn’t wait to get away from me. I pull back my covers and get myself into bed. I haven’t had a wash or brushed my teeth, but that could wait until morning now.

He returns a minute later with my chocolate milk and a box of painkillers and places them on my bedside table. He grabs the Tv remote and passes it to me. “I’ve let my mum know I’m staying here. I’ll grab some covers and bed down on the floor.”

“Honestly, you don’t need to stay. I’ll be fine,” I protest. This mission to keep Dylan at arms-length is not going quite as I planned it to.

“What if you need the toilet?”

I chortle. “There is no way in hell you are helping me with that!”

“Come on, El you’ll end up falling if you try by yourself.” He folds his arms and stares at me.

“Then I’ll hold it in until mums’ home.” I know I am being ridiculous, but there is no way he is helping me.

He shakes his head and smiles before he turns and leaves the room. Deep down I know he is right, but all this closeness is causing havoc with my body. All those feelings I thought I have long buried were still here, and it confuses the hell out of me. He has clearly decided to ignore my wishes as he comes back in armed with two pillows and a blanket. I watch silently as he sets them up on the floor before he stands and pulls his t-shirt off over his head. Holy fuckery! Dylan is ripped, his chest and stomach are chiselled and defined, and my eyes followed the line that leads down to his jeans.

“What are you doing?” I ask wide-eyed, somehow pulling my eyes away from his delicious body. My breath catches in my throat as he pulls the zipper on his jeans and tugs them down. Fuck me sideways, his body is glorious. Toned thick thighs and white Calvin’s that sit low on his hips. My eyes are fixated on his groin.

He walks over to my chair and places his clothes over the back, giving me a perfect view of his tight toned arse. Jesus wept. His arse is perfection, like the rest of his body. My scrawny childhood friend has grown up into a chiselled and toned Adonis.

As he turns, he catches my eye and I quickly avert my gaze and concentrate on switching the tv on. How the heck am I supposed to sleep with him in my room looking like that?!

I flick on Netflix and pick the latest episode of Riverdale. He lies down and places his hands behind his head, which displays the muscles in his arms. I realise from where he is lying it is difficult for him to see.

“You can sit up here if you want? Just while we watch tv.” As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I want to kick myself. Why in hell have I suggested he come and sit on my bed??

He smiles. “Yeah, okay.” He walks round to the other side of my double bed and sits beside me on top of the covers. What am I thinking suggesting he sit up here?? Now all his male hotness is even closer and there is no way I will be able to concentrate on my favourite show now. We sit quietly for the first ten minutes until he sniggers.

“This show is shit. It’s so cheesy.”

I look at him in mock horror. “How dare you call this show! Besides, you can’t talk. Who was it who used to make me watch Power Rangers!”

He grins. "You loved it."

“I definitely did not love it. You did though. I remember you running around our house in the blue outfit.” I giggle at the memory.

Dylan lifts the pillow from behind his head and looks at me with deadly intent in his eyes. “Laughing at my expense, huh?”

I hold my hand up. "Drop the pillow, Dyl. Besides, you can't attack me." I pout my lips. "I'm injured and defenceless."

His wicked grin makes me realise he is going to show me no mercy and before I can protest again, I am whacked full in the face with the pillow.

“Bastard,” I hiss, which earns me his naughty chuckle as he moves in again to attack. I grab my pillow from behind my head and hit back at him. He sits up on his knees, so he is towering over me and he hits me on the head again.

“You may as well admit defeat now, Els. We know I always win these fights.”

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