More Than Enough (More Than Series, Book 5) (16 page)

Riley:
About?

Dylan:
Nothing.

Riley:
Because you’re not allowed to talk about her to me?

Dylan:
lol.

Riley:
You lol’d.

Dylan:
I did.

Riley:
You can talk about her. I was just kidding.

Dylan:
It’s weird.

Riley:
Says the guy who wanted to hear all about my ex-boyfriend? Not weird at all.

Dylan:
Valid.

Riley:
So?

Dylan:
I was just thinking… She never really cared much about what I was into, you know? Not just cars, but even little things like basketball. Did Jeremy go to your swim meets?

Riley:
Every single one.

Dylan:
See?

Riley:
I’m sorry.

Dylan:
It’s okay. I guess when you say things like that… like you being excited about the things I’m excited about, I kind of just wonder, you know? Like, why were we even together for so long?

Riley:
Can I be completely honest with you?

Dylan:
Always. I don’t ever want anything else from you.

Riley:
I feel like it’s kind of a blessing, you know? That you guys broke up.

Dylan:
Well yeah, because then I probably would’ve never met you.

Riley:
You’re sweet, but no. That’s not what I meant.

Dylan:
Then what?

I can see the little dots on the screen moving. It feels like forever before her message finally comes through.

Riley:
You know those couples in high school who seem so perfect on the outside, but are unhappy on the inside? They spend their teenage years together, go off to college and keep the pretense of perfection going because by then it’s all they know. I’m not saying you didn’t love each other. You probably did. In fact, I’m sure YOU definitely did, because I can tell when YOU care for someone, you care for them deeply. I just think that maybe time changed you both. At some point you grew apart and you didn’t realize it was happening until there was nothing left. And you’re probably bitter and angry because you might feel like you don’t exactly know how it happened. It’s been what? Over two years since you’ve been together and she’s still on your mind.

I read her text over and over, me and Heidi’s history running through my mind like a slideshow of irrelevant events.

Dylan:
Last November.

Riley:
What?

Dylan:
I was with her at Cam and Lucy’s wedding three months ago.

Riley:
Oh.

Dylan:
Sorry.

Riley:
You don’t owe me an apology, Dylan.

Dylan:
Still.

Riley:
So you were together when you were deployed?

Dylan:
Not really.

Riley:
I’m confused.

Dylan:
She Dear John’d me when I first deployed and said she wanted to see other people. I’m not really sure what she did after that. I don’t want to know. But then I saw her at the wedding and we… you know…

Riley:
What’s Dear John mean?

Dylan:
It’s just a term for when your girl breaks up with you in a letter while you’re deployed.

Riley:
I’m sorry.

Dylan:
Yeah…

Riley:
But you were together again after the wedding?

Dylan:
We all went to Vegas for Cam and Lucy’s honeymoon.

Riley:
Hello, Captain Avoidance.

Dylan:
I broke up with her for good there. She went home. I went back to Afghanistan.

Riley:
I assumed something happened while you were in Vegas?

Dylan:
Just don’t keep secrets from me, Riley. That’s all I ask.

The little dots on the screen move again.

It feels like forever. Again.

Finally:

Riley:
Good night, Dylan.

Dylan:
Wait. What did I say? Or do?

Riley:
It’s just a little rich for you to be asking me not to keep secrets when you obviously want to hold on to your own.

Dylan:
I looked up Jeremy. I know what happened. I know you were there when he died.

Riley:
I guess some secrets are easier to find than others. Maybe there’s a reason we want to keep them a secret instead of pushing the wrong buttons with each other and ending up in a place neither of us want?

Dylan:
I wish I was in my truck, you next to me, my hand on your leg, sun shining while I tell you about the dumb engine in my garage.

Riley:
It’s not a dumb engine. And I wish I was there, too. Maybe if we close our eyes and go to sleep and wish on it enough it will happen in our dreams?

Dylan:
I’ll make it happen, Riley. Just not in our dreams. In reality. We’ll drive toward the calm of the horizon until you feel like you’re touching the earth. And we can stay there. I’ll show you our reality. Just you and me. And it’ll be perfect. You’ll see.

After a long pause, she replies:

Riley:
You made me cry.

Dylan:
I’m sorry.

Riley:
I’m falling so hard for you, Dylan Banks.

Dylan:
I’m already there, Riley Hudson.

She doesn’t respond after that and I don’t mind that she doesn’t because it gives me the opportunity to work on something I was supposed to do yesterday. I grab what I need and sit in the corner of my room, imagining exactly what she described in her dream. And I let that feeling guide me through my task until I fall back asleep, her dream now becoming mine.

Dylan

I
wake up
to the sound of my phone ringing. For a second, I get excited, thinking it’s Riley. It’s not. It’s Jake.

“What’s up?” I check the time. 9:47. They’re not meant to be here until 11.

“Yo. My fucking truck died on the way to your house. Cam and Logan are with me. The girls are coming later. Can you come get us?”

“Yeah, man.” I sit up and rub my eyes. “Where are you?”

“Close. We’re just at the exit off the highway.”

I hang up and shrug on some clothes, still half asleep as I walk through the hallway, past the kitchen, and toward the back door leading to the yard.

As soon as I open the door water splashes my face and my chest. Followed quickly by something brown and soft. And now I’m awake.

Awake and
angry
.

I look down at myself before looking at them. I’m soaking wet, covered in feathers.

Jake and Logan are standing a few feet in front of me—both holding buckets. Jakes drops his. “Oh, fuck,” he whispers, eyes wide.

Then Logan breaks out in laughter.

“You know I carry, right?” I threaten, only half-joking. The second I take a step, something wet hits my head. It’s white.
Milk
. I start to look up, just in time to see eggs falling from the sky. The first one hits my shoulder, then the rest is a blur. After closing my eyes, I ball my fists at my sides, trying to keep my anger in check. Jake and Logan are cackling like idiots, and now another guffaw from above. I wipe my eyes so I can see Cameron’s stupid face hanging over the roof edge, one arm out holding a paper bag. I don’t need to see it to know what’s inside, I taught these assholes everything they know. He gives me a face splitting grin before flooding me with the entire bag of flour. “Mayhem, motherfucker!”

I shower and
change quickly, leaving them outside to clean up their mess, which they do without protest. “You fucking jerks!” I call out, stepping out from the back door.

Cam stifles his laugh. “It was funny, asshole. Come on. If it were one of us you’d claim that Op. Mayhem genius.”

“Dude,” Logan whispers, his smile so wide and so smug it takes everything in me not to punch him. “Who’s that smoking hot chick I saw leave your house this morning?”

“Who? Sydney? That’s my brother’s girl.” I smirk. “And I’ll be sure to tell Amanda you said that.”

Instantly, his smile drops. “Don’t you dare.”

“She’d put your balls in a vice,” Jake says.

“Or worse,” Cameron chimes in. “She won’t touch them ever again.”

“Jesus Christ,” Logan mumbles, rubbing his face. “Don’t talk shit like that. You’ll jinx me.” He looks at me with fear clear in his eyes. “Seriously, D. Don’t fucking tell her I said anything.”

Cam chuckles while he taps away at his phone.

“It’ll cost you,” I tell Logan.

“Name the price.”

“Give me time.”

“Fine!”

Jake shakes his head. “It blows my fucking mind we’re all friends.”

“No shit,” I murmur.

Logan’s phone sounds. “This better not be her,” he says, his eyes fixed on Cameron whose phone’s still in his hand, smiling like the Cheshire cat. Logan taps his screen a few times, his brow bunching more with each passing second. Then his gaze snaps to Cam again. “Did you get a strap-on sent to my house?”

Cam shrugs and shouts loud enough to be heard over Jake’s and my laughter. “You know… just in case you ever feel like being a man again.”

*     *     *

We head out,
in my truck, over to the batting cages while we wait for the girls to arrive. But not before I leave something for Riley at her doorstep.

I don’t know why we chose to go to the cages considering I can’t even bat. Or pitch. Not that any of us would since we’re with Jake. We end up sitting at a table talking shit and watching people strike out.

Cameron drops enough food to feed a small village on the table and sits down opposite me. “You know we’re grilling at my house, right?” I tell him.

He nods and shoves half a hot dog in his mouth. Then he tries to speak, but with a mouthful of food it’s kind of impossible to understand him. He finishes chewing and makes his attempt to swallow look like the hardest thing in the world. When he’s done, he wipes his mouth on his forearm and says, “Lucy’s gone all wifey and has been
attempting
to cook every night. And every night it tastes like balls. Side note: I fucking hate Pinterest.”

“Me too. Her and Amanda share some fucking board and the other night we had a single piece of ravioli—”

“Raviolo,” Cam interrupts.

“What?” Logan snaps.

“Ravioli is plural. Raviolo is singular. One giant piece of pasta: Ravio
lo
.”

We stare at him, unblinking.

He throws the hotdog wrapper on the table. “Fuck you, Pinterest!”

Jake laughs. “So what you’re saying is that her cooking is bad?”

“I’m not talking
bad-but-still-edible
,” Cam responds. “I’m talking,
I-want-to-puke-as-soon-as-it-hits-my-tongue
type bad. Let’s just say I’ve mastered the art of optical illusions—food editing. I’m fucking hungry, man. Like,
all the time
.”

Logan goes to pick at the fries on the table but Cam shoos his hand away, then spreads his arms around the food and brings them all closer to him. “I’ve had Amanda’s cooking,” he tells Logan. “You can afford to starve. I can’t.”

Jake chimes in. “Neither of you cook your own meals?”

Cam answers first. “I try to. Hell, I try to do anything as long as it doesn’t mean eating ball-sweat-flavored raviolo but she’s on these hormone meds to regulate her period or something and she’s crazy. As in,
more
crazy than normal.”

“You married her,” I joke.

“And I wouldn’t take it back, D,” he says, throwing a handful of fries in his mouth. “Not for a fucking second.”

“I cook!” Logan announces, sticking his chest out. “I’m beast-mode with the ramen noodles.”

“Beast mode?” I ask.

Jake ignores me. “Kayla cooks for me. She has this weekly plan or something. Certain days she makes me carb-load for training and shit. It’s fucking annoying.”

“You love it, Jakey. Don’t deny it,” Cam says.

I laugh and look over at Jake. His cheeks are redder than they were a minute ago, and his gaze is lowered at the phone in his hand. He’s most likely messaging his girl about how much he loves and appreciates her. Seeing it makes me grab my phone from my pocket and text Riley.