Page 29 of Dirty Dylan: Dirty Dusters

I take in my haircut. Long on top, short on the sides, and falling into my eyes. I look normal instead of resembling a Rikers Island inmate with an almost shaved head. I look a lot like our Paddy. I never realized how much until now.

“Handsome?” Smiling, she elbows me in the ribs as she asks the question of my reflection in the mirror, her hand still held firmly in mine.

“I don’t really think that’s for me to say, is it, Jessie?” I turn around to face her, and she does the same. “What do you think?”

There’s a pause. Is she struggling to find her words?

“Well, I think you’re very handsome. In fact, I quite often refer to you as Delectable Dylan.” Her voice has gone quiet.

“Delectable?” Is Pandora revealing even more of her secrets? The corners of my mouth twitch upwards as my confidence soars.

“Alliteration. It sounds good. You know. The two Ds together,” she mumbles, her gaze now fixed on mine. She’s waiting for my reaction.

“There are other words that start with a D.” I smile gently.

“Well, I was going to use dickhead.” She snickers quietly.

“But you didn’t.” My voice is low and teasing.

“No. I didn’t.” It’s whisper-like. Is she embarrassed by her admission? That she finds me physically attractive? I think she is.

All I can hear is her breathing and mine. I’m sure if I listened closely enough, I’d be able to hear our hearts pounding too.

Kiss her. Kiss her. Kiss her. Do it.

My gaze drops to her mouth, and hers sinks to mine. My attention flits back and forth. Mouth. Eyes. Mouth. Eyes. She’s hypnotizing me without even trying.

How it happens, I don’t know, but suddenly our breaths are mingling. Did I move? Did she? Did we both? Or is it something neither of us had any control over?

Our mouths are so close. Our noses are touching. She breathes out. I breathe her in. I breathe out. She breathes me in.

Our lips brush. Sparks fire through me, and my dick is immediately rock hard because I reckon they fired through her too.

The moment is gone when her phone rings in the other room.

We both step back.

“The Notebookis playing on Netflix tonight.”

“I’ll bring the chips,” I reply quietly, before reluctantly releasing her hand as she walks off to take the call.

Dylan’s Apartment, Hudson Yards, New York

“What do you mean you almost kissed Jessie?”

I put him on handsfree to continue the conversation, then lie back on the sectional, running my frustrated hand down my face. When I left Jessie on the phone, I silently prayed to God our moment hadn’t passed and that He grants us another.

Because I demand a do over.

“Just what I said, Paddy. She cut my hair, and then things just sort of happened.”

“You let her cut your hair?”

“Yes, and now I look like you.”

“Well, that’s no bad thing, brother.” He laughs.

“I don’t know what to do, Paddy.”

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