Dylan(42)

“You okay, Dylan?” she asks, glancing at me sideways as she parks in front of our house. “You look beat.”

“Been better.” I climb out of the car and open the car to get Teo out, wincing as my joints protest in spite of the pills. I feel old. Way too old. “Thanks, Erin.”

“Anything you need, you let us know,” she says and smiles, and I smile back.

She’s kind, but I can’t keep asking. She’s skipping work to be here, and she has Tyler and her own son to take care of. How can I draw them into my shitty life?

As she drives away, I stare at the overgrown weeds of the yard, where the deadly ticks are hiding, and scowl. I have to mow it all and spray. I have to… have to do so many things.

I heft Teo in my arms, bundled in a blanket, and for the first time ever he seems heavy, so heavy I’m afraid I might drop him.

What the hell? I stagger down the path to the house, sweat trickling down my back. I feel like shit. What’s up with that?

A honk makes me turn, and I weave a little. Probably lack of sleep and real food, I decide, as I blink to clear the haze from my eyes.

A white jeep has arrived—and Miles jumps out of it, a huge smile on his face. Then Tessa steps out, and my mind blanks out completely.

Whoa. How does she do it—how can she be prettier every time I look at her? Her dark coat molds to her narrow waist, the flare of her hips, and her long blond hair is loose, tumbling around her heart-shaped face.

She starts walking toward me. She smiles, and I swear my heart stops for a moment.

So goddamn sexy. So bright, like the sun.

Her smile falters when she looks into my eyes, but then Miles grabs her hand and pulls her toward us. Looks like the girl’s got herself a groupie.

Miles really likes her. Still can’t wrap my mind around it.

And what’s there not to like? the usual grumpy voice in my head counters. Just because you decided you can’t and shouldn’t doesn’t mean others won’t be more than happy to have her.

The sting in my chest from the thought is becoming a regular occurrence. Damn.

“Come inside,” Miles is saying, and Tessa is resisting.

“Your brothers are tired. They want to rest.”

“No, they’re not. We have chocolate cake. It’s very good.”

She laughs. Like bells on a Christmas morning, I think randomly, and my whole body is leaning toward her—kinda awkward when you’re holding a six-year-old in your arms.

“I couldn’t find his pen,” she says, her gaze dipping.

“Don’t worry about it.”

She shakes her head, bites her lip, and God, I want to kiss her.

“We shouldn’t be standing here, in the weeds,” she finally says and lets Miles drag her toward the house, past Teo and me. “There may be more infected ticks.”

Damn, she’s right. I wonder why I didn’t think of this, why I can’t get my brain to function. Is it because she’s around or because of the fatigue that plagues me day in and day out?

I follow her inside, kick the door closed and sigh with pleasure to finally be out of the cold. Not that the heating is working properly.

Teo is asleep, a dead weight in my arms, and I carry him to his bed. It’s unmade, the way we left it Sunday—was it Sunday? Can’t fucking remember—when we left in a hurry for the hospital. I take off his shoes and jacket, and he shivers as I cover him up with his cartoon-themed quilt.

Yet his forehead feels cool when I touch it, and the relief is overwhelming. I pat his bag of pills and the prescription in my pocket and ruffle his hair. He snuggles under the covers and sleeps on.

“You’ll be fine,” I tell him softly and leave the room, closing the door behind me.

Now to deal with the fact that Tess, beautiful, perfect and out-of-reach Tessa, is in my shithole of a house for the first time. If this doesn’t send her running…

Hey, it has to happen, sooner or later. Besides, isn’t that what I want? Send her running away from me, before the sinkhole that’s my life sucks her down?

Maybe I should make up my own goddamn mind.

***

When I enter the kitchen, I find Tessa rummaging in the fridge. She’s shed her coat, and her black pants mold to her shapely ass.

Goddammit. My cock takes notice and starts to harden, pushing against the fly of my jeans.

Fuck, she’s hot. I’d take her right there, on her knees on the kitchen floor, push inside her to the hilt, listen to her moan and beg me for more. I’d reach around and touch her tits. I remember her nipples, large and rosy, begging to be sucked and licked. I’d stroke her clit until she comes, and then as she comes I’d thrust inside her harder, faster. I’d come as she’s still coming, and we’d lose ourselves to pleasure together. Holding on to each other. Melding into one.