Page 31 of Wreckage of Us
“Since when do you even care?” I put my hands on my hips and turn to him, ready to battle this out, aware that now we got everyone’s attention on us. “Aren’t you going to Florida? The land of naked chicks on demand?” I throw his words from earlier back at him, see how he likes it. “Maybe you’ll find yourself a new set of Number One and Number Two there, right?” I give him a wide grin, even though I feel anything but happy about this entire situation.
“I am not going to Florida,” he tells me through gritted teeth.
“Ah,” I let out a nervous laugh. “Where are you going then?”
“I was planning on staying in Montana,” he grits out. “But now it looks like I may end up in Michigan.”
“What?” It is not even surprise lacing my voice, but complete and utter shock. I am in shock that this man is standing in front of me and has the nerve to imply that he will follow me wherever I go.
“You heard me.”
“I may have heard you…” I laugh sarcastically and cross my arms over my chest.
“You’re right, Al,” I hear Dylan’s brother talking to his wife. “She really is perfect for him.” I completely ignore the comment and continue staring Dylan down.
“But just because you say the words,” I tell the asshole, “that doesn’t mean shit.”
“She says bad words too, Unka Wyatt,” a sweet little voice calls out, making me blush to the roots of my hair.
“Becca, honey,” Arlene Knight decides to intervene. “Can I give you a hug?”
“A hug?” Such an odd request when I am in the middle of an argument with her son.
“I am so happy about the new baby,” she tells me. “And ever since Dylan told us about it, I couldn’t wait to come see you,” she confesses in a teary voice.
“Oh,” my shoulders drop in defeat. Given that Arlene will be my baby’s only living grandparent, how can I deny her request?
“I know he is an asshole,” she whispers in my ear when she wraps me in a warm hug, squeezing me tight but with care. “But please give him a chance,” she continues quietly. “He cares about you.”
“He has a funny way of showing it,” I whisper back, hoping no one can hear us.
“I know, honey,” she pats me on the back. “Always has.”
“Anyone wants anything to eat or drink?” Colt rubs his hands together, looking as nervous as I suddenly am. I am also proud of his social skills as he takes over the hosting responsibilities.
Pretty soon, everyone is once again congregating in my living room, getting louder by the second. I am left in the foyer, alone with Dylan, staring at each other.
“Why are you here, Dylan?” I finally break the silence.
“A couple of reasons,” he crosses his arms over his massive chest, and I take him in. The thick sweatshirt he has on almost makes me chuckle. I have no idea how he’s not sweating in it. The hair sticking out of the baseball cap he always seems to have on makes my heart squeeze in my chest a little.
“And those are?” I copy his stance and just stare him down.
“Wyatt and Alison wanted to meet you before they go back home,” he informs me. “Well, Alisoninsisted,” he mutters under his breath, “but it was important to them both to meet you.”
“Okay…” I don’t know what else to say to that.
“I wanted you to meet my son before he leaves with them,” Dylan continues, almost as if he’s going over a list of things he needs to tell me.
“Oh.” His statement shocks me. It also raises quite a few questions of my own.
“And last but not least,” Dylan lets out a heavy breath, like he is expecting me to fight him on this but he is ready, nonetheless. “I’m moving in.”
I shake my head in confusion. “Moving in where?”
“Here. With you.”
9
