Page 139 of Dirty Like Dylan

For just a minute, I wanted to let myself live in a world where that could be a possibility.

But then reality hit, like it always did.

I walked back into the bedroom to find Dylan up and getting dressed, saying something about needing some air. He often went out on the back deck at night to look at the water and soak up the fresh air and just be alone for a while, but still. He didn’t look at me. He was looking at Amber, and as soon as she darted into the bathroom to clean up, I went on the offensive.

Maybe so he couldn’t bring up the fact that I’d just violated him first.

“I told you. I knew you were gonna do this.”

He looked at me. “Do what?”

“Fall for her.” I yanked my jeans on.

He didn’t respond to that right away, but he had guilt written all over his face. “How did you know that?”

“How did I know? Let’s see. From day one? Because she’s exactly your type.”

“My type?” He looked at me kinda blankly.

“You know, the au naturel girl-next-door hippie type who happens to be gorgeous, with a head full of dreams and ideals. You’ve got a type, man.”

He raised an eyebrow. “I do?”

Christ. Seriously?

“You’re kidding me, right? Remember Vickie? Remember Lolabella, or whatever the fuck that chick’s name was from Coachella? Fucking Annie?”

“Shit. I do have a type.” I couldn’t even tell if this was news to him or if he was putting me on. Fucker just pulled on his shirt, unfazed.

“Yeah. Well, unfortunately for those girls, they either turned out to be too much drama, or too much dumb.”

“Dumb?”

“Hello. Annie?”

“Annie wasn’t dumb. She was just—”

“She was dumb as fuck. You can say it. She’s not here.” I took a step away from the bathroom, but I could hear the water running. I was pretty sure Amber couldn’t hear us. “The thing is, Amber’s amazing. And she just gets better the more you know her. Peeling all those layers back… She’s real. She’s complex and smart and sensitive and strong and sexy as fuck, and she’s everything you ever wanted in a girl.”

Dylan scoffed a bit. “Don’t think I even knew everything I wanted in a girl.”

“Yeah. Well, I did.”

He stared at me. “What are you so pissed off about?”

“You’re falling in love with her.”

Silence. He just stood there, staring at me, so fucking calm as I inwardly raged, my chest heaving.

Then: “So?”

“So?” I grabbed my shirt and yanked it on. “You’re gonna fucking leave me.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” he said. “Leave you? I’m not going anywhere. However I feel about Amber doesn’t change anything.”

“If you really believe that,” I said, “you’re fucking kidding yourself.”

Then I stormed out before he could bring up the whole my-hand-on-his-ass thing, wanting to punch something, like some fucking drama queen. But I really couldn’t help it. I was fucking pissed.

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