Dylan(62)

“Let me do that,” I say, but he doesn’t budge or turn. “What happened back there?”

“Got light-headed. Happens when you get up quickly.”

“Not to you. Never seen it happen before.”

“You don’t see me so often.”

That’s true.

“What did you do that exhausted you so much?”

He shoots me a bright sideways glance, and a corner of his mouth lifts, the hoop in his lower lip glinting. “Watching you, having you here and not being allowed to touch you.”

“I thought you were touching me earlier.”

“But then you told me you can’t do this.”

“Not like this, no.”

He turns back to the sink.

“I’m sorry,” he says after a moment. “For what I said earlier. I didn’t know. I always thought…” He shrugs. “It doesn’t matter what I thought. I shouldn’t have said it.”

Yeah. His words did sting. Then again, I wanted him to believe I slept with all those boys, wanted him to be jealous. “Forget it.”

“It’s that simple, huh?” he says softly.

“Nothing is simple.” I wish it were.

“You’re right. Tess…” He turns to face me fully. “I can’t give you what you need.”

I swallow hard. “And what’s that?”

“This isn’t a fairytale, princess. And I’m not a prince.” His eyes are earnest. “I can’t offer you much. In fact, things are pretty rough around here, if it escaped your notice, and it doesn’t look like they’ll be improving any time soon.”

His look is challenging, like he expects me to deny it, say I won’t run. Say I’m not a princess.

But I say nothing. What are words worth?

“You have interests,” he goes on. “Archaeology. Ecology. You have dreams.”

“And you don’t?”

“I’ve had to give up most of mine.”

It makes me sad to hear him say so. “You can get them back.”

“Not sure how. You’re so strong, Tess. I saw how you defended yourself the other night when that fucker got you. How you stood up to your parents. I wanted to tell you…”

I wait, my heart in my throat. “What?”

“That you deserve the best.”

I shale my head. “So do you.”

“I had the best. I had you.” There is wariness in his eyes and something that looks like regret and sorrow. “And I walked away.”

“Dyl…” I don’t know what to say. Because what else is there to say, when he speaks of me as if I belong to the past?

Silence stretches.

“You should get going,” he says hoarsely. “Audrey and Ash will worry.”

I nod and turn around. I pause. “You think I’ll run away because things are tough,” I whisper. “Because you’re no prince. What you don’t realize…” I glance at him over my shoulder, and I see it plainly, the pain in his gaze. “I’m only leaving because you won’t let me in.”

***

My plan is to stay in bed—well, on the sofa—and wallow, eating ice cream and watching crappy shows with Audrey and Ash. Only problem is, this is the night the two have chosen to announce their big news, and we’re doing it at Erin and Tyler’s place. Tonight.

How can I stay back? I can’t.

So I tag along, smiling at Audrey’s nervous chatter and Asher’s nervous silence. Tyler opens the door, and we find everyone already sitting inside, drinking and eating Chinese take-out.

Everyone but Dylan.

I even see Rafe, who’s rarely seen at such meetings nowadays, his golden mane sheared short and his tawny gaze pensive. There’s Zane and Dakota and Erin, who comes to welcome us in.

Ash takes a seat and pulls Audrey in his lap, and I retreat into the background as she shows her ring and waits for the excitement to pass before dropping the bigger bomb about the baby.

Cheers erupt, and I find myself smiling again as I sink into a chair, unable to resist the torrent of happiness rushing through the room. Audrey gets up to let the girls hug her in turn, and Tyler grabs his brother in a bear hug, all misty-eyed. Rafe is sitting next to Zane, a distant look on his handsome face, and Zane is laughing and toasting Ash and Audrey with his soda.

His dark eyes narrow when they fall on me. Zane is always sensitive to his friends’ moods, the emotional currents rushing around him, and I have to be the only strident note in this symphony of joy.

“Tessa?” He glances one last time at Dakota, who’s talking animatedly with Audrey, and pushes off the stool where he was perched, moving toward me.

Oh crap. “Hey, Zane.”