Page 86 of Still Here Without You

Dylan laughs as he moves to her side.

“I feel like shit. It’s been an eventful night.”And morning…I’m still seething at the text message I received at six thirty. Did Delilah spend the night with that jerk? And if so, why the fuck would she message me after? To rub it in my face?

Summer leans forward, resting her elbows on the counter and her head on the palms of her hands. “What happened? Did your hookup not do it for you?” she says, interrupting my thoughts. She’s teasing, and I’d usually play along, but I’m not in the mood. Dylan’s eyebrows rise and then he cringes, like that little movement hurt him in his hungover state.

“My hookup was perfect. It’s what came after…”

Summer’s nose crinkles at my words. “Okay, I’m here for the story. Just let me finish getting my water. I’ve got a dry throat.”

“Screaming out Dylan’s name will do that to it.”

Summer gives me a look that could kill, then laughs as Dylan and I snicker together. At least, until mine turns to a groan at the thought of having to rehash what happened.

“Come on, spill. I was waiting for you to do it last night,” Dylan says, tapping his finger impatiently on the counter.

“I saw Del.” I sigh.

“Shiiit,” Dylan says as Summer’s hand moves to her mouth. “Was it bad?” she asks.

“It was fucking amazing. I felt like the old Del was back. We talked, we flirted, we danced, we…point is, I thought things were heading in the right direction.”

“But?”

“But I’m a fucking idiot. She was drunk. She’d obviously forgotten that she hated me, because the second we left the building, everything changed.”

“What did you do?” Dylan asks accusingly.

“Why do you automatically think I did something?”

“Experience.” He shrugs before leaning his hand on the counter. “But go on…whatdidn’tyou do to mess things up?”

“You’re an asshole.”

“Not denying it.”

I look to Summer, like she’s going to defend me, but she just copies his shrug.

“All I did was say I was carrying her like a child.”

Dylan straightens, and his eyes widen in shock. “Shit! What happened?”

“Yep, shit, all right. I don’t even know what happened. We hadn’t spoken in weeks. We were both pissed at each other. So when I saw her last night, I just watched.”

“Not creepy at all.”

“Dylan!” Summer admonishes him.

“You’d do the same with Summer, and you know it,” I add.

He nods, looking over at her. “Fair point. Go on.”

Summer laughs.

“Okay, well, skipping ahead, we started drinking together and things got a bit heated on the dance floor. Which, side note, this club has fucking podiums for dance floors. There’s no normal dance floor on the ground. Nope, it’s all in the fucking air.”

Dylan’s eyes fill with confusion as he undoubtedly tries to picture what I mean while Summer’s nose crinkles again. “Huh? Now, I kind of want to go. Let’s come back to that,” she says.

Shaking my head with a laugh, I continue my story, leaving out some of the specifics, and pause when good ole Marky Mark enters the scene.

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