Page 151 of Dirty Like Dylan

“No one’s that perfect, Dylan. You have to have some shitty qualities. Everyone does.” She gazed up at the ceiling. “Like me, for example.”

“You?”

“Me. I’m impatient, flighty, sarcastic, and I can be overly judgmental. Hard on people as a way of driving them away. Pretending I don’t care as much as I do.” She looked at me. “That’s pretty shitty.”

I just stared at her. I heard what she was saying, and I’d definitely seen evidence of all those traits in her. But if I told her they honestly didn’t bother me, would she believe me? How did I make her see that, without her thinking I was just trying to be “perfect” or something?

“Well,” I said carefully, “you’re strong. You’re independent. You’re so passionate about your photography. I respect all of that. You have ideals and you stand up for them, and for yourself. You’re also beautiful and sexy and intriguing as fuck. When I’m not with you, I think about you way too fucking much, and when I’m with you, I don’t want to be anywhere else.”

“Really?” she said, kinda trying not to smile, but her eyes were sparkling.

“Really. And… this thing happens, when you smile at me. I feel it, deep. I feel you, even when you’re not around. Does that sound lame?”

“It’s not lame, Dylan,” she said softly.

“I want more of it,” I told her honestly. “Even if I just had you, I want more. That’s some intense chemistry, Amber.”

She just gazed at me.

“And you’re brave. You were willing to take a chance on Ash and me.”

“Okay… have you seen the two of you?” Her lips quirked. “I wouldn’t be the only woman to take that chance, you know.”

“But you were scared. And Ash was a dick to you at first. And you still took the chance.”

“Because you’re that hot.”

I shook my head, smoothing a thick lock of her hair off her cheek and admiring her. Her delicate cheekbones and her freckles. And that blend of sass and fear in her eyes. “Man. You are so like him, you know?”

“What?”

“That self-protective thing. Making jokes. Saying stupid shit to avoid admitting how you feel.”

She kinda rolled her eyes. “It’s not stupid to point out how hot you are. It’s factual. And don’t think I haven’t noticed how you keep avoiding shit, too.”

“What shit am I avoiding?”

“I don’t know. But you just told me that’s what you do. So, you tell me. What exactly are you avoiding telling me right now?”

I didn’t answer that. I honestly didn’t know how to say it.

I’d never said those three words to a woman before. I was all nervous and worked up about it, like some virgin—afraid I was gonna blow it by rushing it too hard and too fast.

What if I scared her right onto that plane?

“I mean, if you don’t want to tell me,” she said, her tone taunting, “I could always ask Ashley. See if he knows what’s up. Surely he knows your most annoying qualities, if anyone does…” She sat up, swiping her phone from the bedside table.

I didn’t stop her, even though my heart was pounding, wondering what Ash would tell her. She texted something, presumably to him. I couldn’t read it from where I lay.

When her phone pinged with an incoming message, she read it, but she didn’t turn it to show me. She looked at me, though, her green eyes wide.

I took the phone from her hand and read the conversation on the screen.

Amber: What’s the most annoying thing Dylan’s done lately?

Ashley: Fell in love with you.

By the time I looked up, Amber was getting out of bed. I watched her slip on her little lace panties with the flowers on them. She was so fucking sexy, even when she was running scared.

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