Dylan (Bachelors of the Ridge #1) (12 page)

I
n the last hour
, I hadn’t said a thing. Okay, that was a lie, when our waitress swung back around by our table, I said, “A water, please.”

So … three words. I didn’t know if everyone noticed. Garrett gave me a couple narrow-eyed glances, but Dylan? Dylan noticed. He’d barely taken his eyes off of me since we sat back down. I could feel his stupid, bright blue eyes searing into my profile.

Hence my problem. I’d never been so completely within someone’s focus. Never in all my long twenty-four years. But he never wavered. The question in his eyes never waned. Not when I threw some cash in for my part of the bill, not when I refused an offer to dance from Cole, not when we walked through the dark parking lot to Tristan’s car, not on the drive back while he was sitting right next to me.

What just happened?

That was the thing that never wavered and never waned. The question that I had no possible way to answer. Because whatever had happened in that dance was beyond anything I’d ever experienced. Everyone around us on the ride home to Garrett’s was talking and laughing, but he and I sat in a tiny den of silence. Like Superman’s Fortress of Solitude, only not as awesome. Maybe he wasn’t unsure, but the only thing
I
was sure about was how completely not sure I was. Makes sense, right?

When I started walking toward my car (sprinting toward it, actually), I could have been honest with him after he called my name and asked if I needed him to drive me home. The alcohol had barely affected me; it was like the more my brain worked overtime, the less the alcohol penetrated my blood. But he was there in the darkness of Garrett’s driveway, looking at me with this … I don’t even know, almost pleading look in his eye.

Dylan and I needed to talk and if he drove me home, we’d be able to. So I nodded and tucked my keys back into my purse.

“Let’s take my truck,” he said quietly.

“What about my car?”

We walked down the sidewalk and took the corner to his street before he answered. “It’ll be at your place in the morning. What time do you need to leave for the clinic?”

“By nine.”

His condo was dark when he walked up the driveway, and I hesitated, not sure if we’d be letting the dog out before he drove me home. But Dylan opened the passenger door for me, a serious look on his face. That face. Ugh. I can’t believe I ever tried to convince myself that he was only averagely good-looking. He was so handsome that it hurt my eyeballs.

After I slid in the truck, I kept my face forward. It was the only form of self-preservation I had at that point. Don’t look at him. Don’t make eye contact. If I did that and saw even a shred of pity or regret in him, I’d lose it.

What just happened?

Despite the fact that neither of us spoke on the drive to my apartment, save for me telling him how to get to my apartment, it didn’t feel awkward. And I was an expert in deciphering silences. I knew what disappointed silence was like; it coated your skin in a thick, greasy coat. Awkward silence was a bit different. It gnawed at your ears and your lips, practically forcing you to break it.

This was companionable, which relieved me. No matter what conversation we needed to have, or how the question would be answered, I just needed to know that we’d still be friends.

Dylan turned the truck into the parking lot of my apartment complex, and I felt a momentary twinge of embarrassment. After being in his home, unsettled as it was, the shabbiness of my surroundings couldn’t really be ignored.

The landscaping needed a good weeding, the light bulb of the lamp post closest to my door needed to be replaced, and the car overhangs held more rust than metal. And I knew exactly when all of those things hit him, because it was when a concerned silence took over. I risked a glance at him, and saw his eyes darting around. With every new thing he saw, his jaw tightened more and more.

“Which one?” he asked tightly. I pointed to the door that led to my first floor apartment and then folded my hands into my lap while he parked the truck into the closest spot. The ticking sound of the engine was the only other sound besides his heavy, measured exhale.

“Do you,” I cleared my throat. “Do you want to come inside?”

His thumb tapped on the steering wheel for a few seconds before he turned to me. I couldn’t very well avoid looking at him without it turning awkward, so I shifted to face him. The bald intensity on his face made my heart shudder in my chest.

What just happened?

“Relax. It’s just you and me,” I said lightly, repeating his whispered words from earlier. It worked, because his face softened. He didn’t smile, but what I’d said snapped just enough of his intensity that I felt like I could breathe again.

“I don’t know if I should.”

“Hmm?”

He jerked a chin toward my front window. “If I should come in.”

Commence awkward silence. I chewed on my lip, trying not to slump into the truck bench. “Why not?”

Dylan swallowed, flicking his eyes over to me but then training them right back onto the door that lead to my apartment. “Because I promised you something. And I need to keep my word.”

Disappointment swamped me, and I struggled to keep my face even.

What just happened?

Maybe I’d never know. Maybe it would just stay right in that small space of dance floor where we’d left it. I nodded and pushed the truck door open.

“Kat,” he said as my feet hit the pavement. I turned. “You just want to talk, right?”

Then I smiled and shook my head. “As opposed to?”

“Nothing,” he replied, his voice full of smile even as his lips stayed in a straight, thoughtful line. “Go inside. Do you have a chair by that window?”

My eyebrows lifted, but I looked toward my apartment. “Yes?”

“Good. Go sit in it. So I can see you.”

“This is very odd.”

“Yes,” he said on a sigh. “Please?”

I rolled my eyes, which made him chuckle. Making Dylan laugh did very odd, very tingly things to my body. I looked down the front of my shirt after I’d walked away from the truck, and yes siree, the girls perked right up. And it was
not
because it was cold out.

I locked the two locks on my door before I flipped the light on in the living area. Pulling the curtains completely open, I pulled the stool that was next to the small kitchen table and moved it right by the window.

His truck was still there, but I couldn’t see him at all. I waved, and my phone rang almost immediately.

“Yes?” I drawled when I picked it up.

“Can you see me?”

“Nope.” I popped the ‘p’. The interior of his truck appeared when he reached up and clicked the cab light on. It was a dim light, but at least I could see where he was, see his face. “Ahh, there you are. So, is this a Michigan thing? I’m unfamiliar with the concept.”

He grinned, the white of his teeth looking stark against his tan skin. His hikes over the last couple weeks had given him color in his face. Nice, very, very nice color.

“Well,” he started, snapping me from my reverie, “I think this is the safest way for us to talk.”

“Safe for whom?” I muttered under my breath, lifting my eyes to his and blushing when he leaned forward over the steering wheel and gave that smolder-intense thing that made me shift in my seat.

“Something was different tonight, wasn’t it?” He said it so bluntly, with no hesitation and no confusion. “It could not have just been in my head.”

I crossed my legs in a ridiculous attempt to gain time to respond. I licked my lips and met his gaze through the window. “It wasn’t.”

“I’m torn here, Kat. I meant what I said before. I don’t think I want a serious relationship; I don’t have time for one. And you’re my
friend
. That’s important to me right now.”

“To me too,” I said, hating how small my voice sounded.

“The kiss,” he shrugged and I found myself leaning forward, like I could hear him better. “The kiss was one thing. One thing that I felt like we could set aside. But now we have that dance. And it was…”

“Significant,” I supplied.

In the dim light of his truck, he nodded slowly. “Significant. And I don’t know how to balance that significance with what we had already decided. What made sense for us to decide.”

The girl part of me wanted to roll my eyes, tell him that his reasoning for not wanting to give this a shot, give us a shot, was flimsy. But I couldn’t, because I was just as stubborn about things that I’d already made my mind up about. Far be it from me to judge him for doing the same. Not only that, but I would never try to force myself into an important role where I wasn’t completely, one hundred percent wanted.

But the
want
in me. I’d never experienced it before, and for me, that was just as significant. Significant enough that while I sat there, separated from him by only a few panes of glass and one stretch of sidewalk, I opened my mouth and let a completely unfiltered idea tumble out.

“So what if we didn’t date? What if we just … didn’t label it?”

Dylan tilted his head and regarded me, his jaw working back and forth. Then he shook his head. “What do you mean?”

I licked my lips. “I mean, we both agree that something changed. It feels different tonight, right?” There was no point in admitting that I’d probably felt the exact same surging tidal wave of lust since the moment I’d met him, but that wasn’t relevant. What was relevant was that I was quite possibly the most genius person in the entire world.

“Yeah, we can,” he said slowly, scratching the side of his face with one hand.

“So moving forward, if this … different feeling hits us again, then we act on it. No dates, no labels, no commitments. And above any of it, we stay friends.”

And as soon as the words were out of my mouth, the heat from his eyes practically melted the glass in front of me. I lifted my fingers to touch it, just to see if it was hot. He opened his mouth once, twice, then sank back in his seat.

“Do you know what it felt like for me tonight?” I continued when he didn’t say anything. I pushed my fisted hand against my breastbone. “When we danced, I felt like I was on fire, Dylan. But … I couldn’t get close enough, you know? I’ve never…”

“I know,” he said on a rush, gripping the top of the steering wheel with one hand. “Damn it, now I wish I was inside.”

I laughed, pushing the thickness down my throat that was most likely caused by my honesty. It wasn’t tears, I didn’t want to cry. But it felt so
overwhelming
.
He
overwhelmed me. And it was the first time in my life where that feeling didn’t make me want to run in the opposite direction.

“Kat, I’m going to need you to be real clear right now. Because I’m not sure I know what you’re suggesting.”

I held his eyes as directly as I could, given the distance between us. Maybe if we’d been face to face, with no barriers, I wouldn’t have had the courage to say it. Possibly not even think it. But for the first time in my life, the words came easily.

“I’m suggesting that we veer strongly into the friends with benefits category.”

W
hat just happened
?

The words came out of her mouth. I saw them. Lips moving, a little smirk on her face, the color high in her cheeks. But it could not have been English, because unless I was seriously losing my mind, Kat just offered up a ridiculously convenient, horribly stupid plan.

Excitement roared through me, and I tried not to shout into the phone.

“Kat,” I said slowly, attempting to breathe through my racing thoughts. “That might be a really bad idea.”

“Why?” she all but groaned, leaning forward on her seat, gripping the phone in one hand and using her other to whip around in the air like it would help her make her point. “Don’t even try to tell me that men don’t love this shit.”

“Hey. Don’t even try to lump me in with every other man you’ve met.”

Kat exhaled, only looking mildly chastened. That actually did sting a bit. I wasn’t a monk, but I didn’t use women. I didn’t lead them on and, for the most part, I was a guy who very much believed in the concept of relationships. The fact that it had been over three years since I’d had one was beside the point.

“I’m
no
t, Dylan. Believe me. I’m the last person that you need to convince that you’re different. Because I already know it.”

I rubbed a hand over my jaw, feeling equal parts exhausted and completely jacked up. “Yeah?”

She nodded, dropping her gaze to her lap. I wanted to see her eyes for every part of this conversation. We were walking a wire here; a misstep of microscopic proportions would send us hurtling into the air with no net to catch us.

“I don’t trust men,” she said simply, finally looking back up at me. “You are the first man that I’ve ever known who makes me feel safe.”

Knowing what little I did about her background, that didn’t surprise me, but it pained me all the same.

“That must be exhausting,” I said, not even planning to say it out loud.

“What?”

“Never being able to trust anyone. How do you ever relax?”

Kat laughed softly, shaking her head again. “It’s not that I don’t trust anyone. I trust the women at the clinic, and I do trust Bill. He’s been very supportive of me. But that’s different. He’s more of a father figure. Not …”

“Right,” I finished for her.

“I mean, looking at someone like a
man
. Trusting them with that part of me? It’s a new experience. I know that probably sounds pathetic.”

“No. It’s not.” She didn’t believe me. I could tell by the look on her face. I gripped the steering wheel again, mainly because that felt like the only thing that was keeping me in the truck. A leash of my own making. “I’m glad that you trust me, Kat. Because you can. Always.”

She smiled. “Of course you’d say something like that. That’s what all the perfect ones say.”

I held up a hand. “I am
not
perfect.”

Kat scoffed.

“I’m not,” I repeated. “And if you really think I am, then you’re just setting me up to disappoint you.”

Through the window, I saw her straighten and her face sober. “You’ll disappoint me?”

This time, I couldn’t meet her eyes, so I dropped my head back onto the headrest. “Not on purpose. But, I’ve always struggled with priorities. Work is all I’ve poured myself into for the last ten years. Any girlfriend, even the women I’ve dated casually, in that span of time has eventually complained about it, that I don’t know how to put them first.”

“Well then I guess it’s a good thing I’m not asking to be your girlfriend.” The hard edge in her voice made me lift my head to look at her again. “I’m not, Dylan. I don’t want to have a boyfriend any more than you want to be one. That’s why this is
perfect
.”

A car pulled up in the spot next to me, the thumping of his music breaking the thread between me and Kat. When he got out of his car, the music died, leaving a wash of silence so tangible that neither of us spoke.

“You want to know why I think it’s perfect?” she said softly, and I closed my eyes. “Because more than anything, I’m sitting here wondering what your muscles would feel like under my hands.”

“Damn it, Kat,” I whispered, feeling every inch of my skin tighten at her quietly spoken words. “I’ve never crossed this line with someone that works for me. Never. And if you keep saying things like that to me, then I will be forced to ravage you in the office the next time we’re at work together.” Her answering laugh was delighted, and it made me smile. “Especially if you smile like that after you say it. I’m a goner.”

“See?” she drew the vowels out, pointing a finger at me. “Right now, that crap right there. We could take all these tingling, happy feelings and let them manifest into tingling, happy
physical actions
.”

“You should have been a lawyer. Because when you make up your mind on something, God help anyone who disagrees. The human race is helpless against your logic.”

“It really is.” She nodded resolutely, then chewed on her bottom lip. “So the work thing is a big deal to you, huh?”

“It is.”

“So, the fact that I gave my notice to Bill this morning would probably help, wouldn’t it?”

My head snapped up. “You
what
? I’m not going to let you quit because of me. That’s insane. You’re way too great as a server.”

“Easy, killer. I didn’t quit because of you. It was always temporary, me working for him here. When I finished school and moved up to Denver for my job at the clinic, it was timely to be able to help Bill open this location. But as you can see, I don’t exactly have lavish surroundings. I can easily support myself on what I make at the clinic.” I wasn’t convinced, and she could obviously tell, because she rolled her eyes. “Dylan. For the first time since I’ve been on my own, I don’t have to work my ass off. I’ve held at least two jobs for the last four years, plus going to school. I’d kinda like to have nights and weekends off, you know?”

“What’s that like?” I muttered.

“Exactly. I want to
know
. I deserve to ease up a little bit.”

“And you promise you didn’t quit because of me?”

“Could your ego be any bigger?” Then she pointed two fingers at her eyes, flipping them around and pointing them at me. “Look me in the eyes, Dylan. I did not quit because of you. And I didn’t even
quit
. I’m giving him two weeks in case he needs me to train someone new.”

“Two weeks?”

“Mmmhmm.” One side of her mouth curved into a smile and she got the same naughty gleam in her eyes as when she started talking about my muscles under her hands. “Two weeks. Can you keep your rule intact that long?”

“What? Before we get to
manifest
?”

She laughed. “Exactly.”

“I can if you can.”

When she sank her head into one hand on a groan, my face split into a smile. “It’s like we’ve just set up the world’s greatest challenge.”

“I think I’ll be able to hold out longer.”

Her eyes flashed when she looked up at me. “No way, Steadman. I’ll have no problem keeping my hands off of you for two weeks.” She sniffed. “Easy peasy.”

I ground my back teeth together, the burn of holding my jaw muscles together that tightly was the only thing keeping me in the truck. The slope of her slender shoulders was outlined in the window, the lamp behind her couch made her golden hair shine. As fun as it was to joke about tempting each other, try to get the other person to cave first, looking at Kat like this told me that I’d have a serious test of my willpower over the next fourteen days.

It was like now that the switch had been flipped in my head, I couldn’t stop thinking of all the ways we could … umm, manifest.

“Do you know how badly I want to kiss you right now?” My voice sounded rough when the words came out, like my tongue and throat were coated with sand.

“Unless you’re going to come in here and do something about it,” Kat whispered, holding her hand in front of her mouth, “don’t tease.”

“Trust me, I’m torturing myself just as much right now.” She snorted, and I could see that she was tracing the edge of her bottom lip with her pointer finger. My eyes wouldn’t move from the spot, the gentle movement of her hand over her own skin. “Because you know what I can’t stop thinking about?”

Her eyes closed and her hand froze over her mouth. “What?”

“Whether you taste the same way that you smell. Like cake or frosting.”

“W-warm vanilla sugar,” she whispered.

“That’s it.” I nodded, even though she still had her eyes pinched shut. “That’s what I’ll be wondering for the next fourteen days.”

Her breathing was heavy in my ear, and with every shred of restraint I possessed, I turned the key in the ignition. When the engine rumbled over, her eyes snapped open. We held like that for a few long moments.

“Goodnight, Kat.”

“I umm, I guess I’ll see you at work, Dylan.”

The whole time I drove home, the same thought kept cycling through my head, like it had all evening.

What just happened?