“Seriously, thank you for organizing this. It sure beats the smelly bus.”
After Ash leaves, I take a long soak in the tub, trying to quiet my hyperactive mind, but it’s no use. I wish I was the kind of girl who took everything in stride. But I’m the kind to overthink everything, and I just want it to stop.
I like Dillon.
A lot.
Even more so after yesterday.
He opened up to me, and I saw a different side to him. A side I want to explore. Yet I’m freaking terrified too. Terrified of getting my heart trampled on again. He’s a moody prick at times, and I have no experience dealing with that. I get the sense he’s hiding something, and that concerns me. What if I place my trust in him and he lets me down too?
“Ugh.” I scrub my hands down my face before dunking my head under the water. When I come up for air, I’m still stewing over everything. Are my fears founded? Or am I letting the past cloud my perspective? Is this what I’m going to be like with every new relationship going forward? Will I doubt every guy because Reeve betrayed my trust? Will I think every guy is hiding something from me if he doesn’t immediately open his heart and spill every vulnerable secret? Is that in any way fair to the guy?
My brain churns these thoughts, over and over, round and round in circles, and I get out of the cold bath, shivering and annoyed at my inability to just go with the flow. As I dry myself, I decide it’s not fair to hold Reeve’s sins and my past over Dillon’s head. I’ve got to give him the benefit of the doubt unless he does something, or says something, that justifies concern. It doesn’t mean I have to trust him out of the gate. No one should be trusted until they’ve proven themselves, but that doesn’t mean I should automatically distrust every guy I meet either.
Wearing fresh pajamas, with my damp hair in a messy topknot, I’m scrolling through the movie options on my TV when the doorbell chimes. I pad along the hallway in my bare feet, startled to see Dillon’s gorgeous face staring back at me through the peephole. He sticks his tongue out, and I’m smiling as I open the door. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m hoping you’re up for some company,” he says, lifting the plastic bag in his hand. “I come bearing gifts. Ice cream, chocolate, and wine.” He waggles his brows, piercing me with that infamous cocky grin.
My heart melts a little, and tears prick the backs of my eyes. Fuck, I’m a hot mess these days, and I’ve got to get a grip.
“Hey.” The grin slides off his mouth as he steps closer. “Don’t be upset.”
Acting on instinct, I fling my arms around him, hugging him tight. “I’m happy you’re here.”
“Does that mean you’re going to invite me in?” His flirtatious tone and cheeky grin papers over the fractures in my heart, and I grab his hand, pulling him into the apartment.
“Won’t your mom be mad if you don’t arrive for dinner?” I inquire, guiding him to the kitchen.
“Nah. She’ll be grand. Especially when she discovers I’m keeping her new favorite person company.”
I bend down to grab a couple of bowls from the cupboard, and when I straighten up, I catch Dillon staring at me with his mouth slightly open. Setting the bowls down on the counter, I cross my arms and fix him with a knowing look. “Were you just checking out my ass?”
“I was,” he readily admits, slowly dragging his eyes up my body. “Don’t blame me. You were wiggling it right in my face.”
I snort out a laugh. “You’re incorrigible.” I reach overhead to grab some wine glasses, and my top lifts a little, exposing a sliver of skin.
“Damn, Hollywood. Those pajamas should be illegal.”
I spin around, finding his eyes are now fixated on my bare legs. He rakes his gaze up the length of my legs, over my stomach, lingering a little on my chest, before meeting my face. Hunger radiates from his eyes, and I catch my breath.
“Those legs should be illegal, as well as other parts of your body,” he says in a gruff, deep tone that sends shivers sweeping over my skin. My nipples harden to sharp points, poking against my cotton pajama top like a calling card. Of course, he notices, and the look he gives me makes my knees buckle and my core tremble with need.
“I can change,” I croak, not trusting myself in the face of such intense chemistry. I move to walk off, and he darts forward, planting his hands on the counter, caging me in.
“Don’t,” he whispers, leaning in to kiss my neck.
I grab the counter, tilting my head to one side as if on autopilot, granting him more access. He trails his lips seductively up and down my neck, and every part of my body is on fire. Without warning, he pulls back, adjusting himself in his jeans before running his hands through his wild blond hair. “Sorry.” His voice is thick with the same need coursing through my veins. “I didn’t come here for that.”