by Amanda Abram
“Not if we do it the right way,” I said.
“And what do you think the right way would be?”
Dylan’s proposed plan of getting Elijah and Hannah back together flashed through my mind, and I suddenly had a brilliant idea of my own. “Actually, I think there is a way this whole situation could end happily ever after for all parties involved, but I might need your help.”
Lauren arched a brow. “Me?”
“Yeah, you.” I paused. “That is, if you’re supportive of me and Dylan being together.”
She sighed. “Are you sure that being with Dylan is what you really want?”
I stared directly into her eyes, so she would know how serious I was, and said, “Laur, I’m pretty sure I’ve fallen for him.”
Her eyes widened and blinked in surprise. That was a phrase she had never heard me say before, not even about Elijah. “Okay, then,” she said; her features softening and her lips melting into a smile. “Tell me what you need me to do.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
It was hard to concentrate.
I was quickly learning that being around Dylan was a problem. Ever since realizing I liked him as more than a friend, I couldn’t stop thinking about him. Or staring at him while he sat next to me on my living room couch, furrowing his brow at a calculus problem.
I thought a study date would be safe—which was why, as soon as we walked through the front door of my house that afternoon, I declared it would literally be a study date only. But as it turned out, Dylan looked just as hot when he was being studious as he did when he was flirting with me. The stacks of textbooks and notebooks around us did nothing to take my mind off the fact I just wanted to kiss him.
A lot.
“What?” he asked, looking up at me from his homework. His eyes sparkled with amusement as they danced over my face.
I blinked and tore my gaze away from him. “What?” I asked innocently, returning my attention to my notebook. I could feel a blush rising to my cheeks and hoped he wouldn’t notice.
“You were just staring at me.”
“No, I wasn’t.” I shook my head and waved my pencil around. “I was doing my homework.”
“Oh yeah? Let me see.” He craned his neck to try to catch a glimpse of what I had written down in my notebook.
I hugged it close to my chest. “I’m not going to let you see my work just so you can copy it. That’s cheating.”
“We don’t even have the same homework, Briggs.”
“So? You’re still not looking at my notebook.” Because if he did, all he would see was a blank page, and my lie would be exposed.
“Fine.” He smirked. “If you don’t want to admit you can’t take your eyes off me, that’s okay. I still know the truth, and that’s all that matters.”
“Ugh. Conceited much?”
“Not conceited, just observant. You’ve been staring at me ever since we sat down.” He paused and glanced at the space between us on the couch—an entire cushion’s width. “Remind me again why we have to sit so far apart?”
“The closer we are, the more likely we’ll violate our No-Option-One rule,” I explained.
He frowned. “I don’t recall ever declaring a No-Option-One rule. Besides, I thought we were only avoiding option one at school.”
“I think it would be safer to avoid it altogether right now.” Especially in an empty house with no parental supervision.
“Are you sure that’s what you want?” In an instant, he slid over to me and successfully pinned me against the arm of the couch.
My mouth went dry and my pulse began to race, but the expression on my face remained passive as I stuttered, “Y-yeah, that’s what I want.”
He tilted his head to the side and studied me for a moment before slowly leaning toward me. “Prove it. Push me away.”
“Gladly,” I said with fake confidence. I put my hands on his chest to do just that—to push him away—but they betrayed me by grabbing his shirt instead and pulling him in closer.
“Um, Cass, I don’t think you know what ‘push’ means,” he joked, flashing me a wicked grin.
“I guess I don’t.” I leaned in to press my lips against his, but my actions were halted by the sound of the front door opening and closing.
Somebody had just arrived home.
Jerking away from me at an impressive speed, Dylan shot to the other side of the couch while I quickly sat up and grabbed a pencil to make it look like I had just been doing homework instead of almost making out with—
“Dylan!”
I heard Caitlyn’s excited squeal before I saw her standing in the doorway to the living room, grinning from ear to ear. She ran into the room and blindly flung her backpack at the armchair next to the couch. She missed and it landed on the floor, but she didn’t appear to either notice or care.
“I am so glad you’re here!” She dropped down onto the cushion—the safety gap—between me and Dylan and turned to face him. “I’ve been recording all the new episodes of Baker’s Dozen and saving them for us to watch before the finale! I swear, I haven’t watched any of them or read any spoilers online. Well, okay, I lied. I did check to see if Grant was still in the competition, only because I’m not sure I would keep watching if he got eliminated. And I figured, since you’re a Grant supporter yourself, you wouldn’t mind if we got spoiled on just that one thing. Do you want to watch one of the episodes right now?” She paused to take a breath and then added, “Oh, and hi, by the way.”
Dylan, looking slightly overwhelmed, just smiled kindly and said, “Hi, Caitlyn with a C.”
“Caity,” I scolded her, “can’t you see we’re trying to do homework here?”
Caitlyn turned and lowered her gaze to the notebook on my lap. “That doesn’t look like homework to me. That page is blank.”
Dylan snorted and shot me a smug look. “I knew it. I knew you weren’t doing homework over there.”
I made a face at him before returning my attention to Caitlyn. “Seriously, get lost. Dylan can watch Baker’s Dozen with you some other time.”
With a huff, she turned away from me to face Dylan again. This time, with puppy dog eyes. “You don’t want to watch it right now?” she asked with a pout.
Dylan threw me a helpless look over Caitlyn’s head. He didn’t know how he was supposed to respond.
Luckily for him, my mom chose that exact moment to walk into the living room. “Hello, Dylan,” she said pleasantly, looking up from the stack of mail in her hands.
“Hello, Mrs. Briggs,” Dylan said with a wide, relieved smile.
“Are you and Cassie working on your Life Economics project?”
“Life Economics isn’t the only class we have, Mom.” I set my blank notebook and pencil on the coffee table in front of me. “We were just doing some general studying.” And almost general lip-locking, but she didn’t have to know that part.
“Well, that’s nice.” Mom glanced back at Dylan. “Would you like to stay for dinner?”
“Thank you, but not tonight,” he replied, shaking his head. “My parents are expecting me home for dinner soon.”
I blinked in surprise. That was news to me.
“Oh,” Mom said, not even bothering to hide her disappointment. “Well, maybe some other time then?”
Dylan nodded. “I would love that.”
“Great.” Mom smiled then turned to Caitlyn. “Caity, leave these two alone so they can study.”
“It’s okay, actually,” Dylan said and turned to Caitlyn. “I wanted to take a break from homework anyway. We can watch one episode, and then I should head home.”
Caitlyn’s face lit up as she clasped her hands together. “Really?”
Dylan gave her a smile that made my heart melt. He was so good with her. “Really, kiddo.”
“Awesome!” With a fist pump to the air, Caitlyn pushed off the couch and jumped over the coffee table. “I’m just gonna grab something to drink! I’ll be right back!”
When she and my mo
m disappeared out of the room, I smirked over at Dylan. “Are you sure you want to stay and watch the show with her?”
“Sure, why not? It’s a fun show, and your sister amuses me. Besides, I don’t feel like studying anymore.”
“Yeah, me neither.”
“You never started studying.” Dylan grinned and gave my shoulder a playful poke with his finger.
“Yeah, yeah,” I muttered, swatting his finger away. “So, you’re having dinner tonight with your parents? As in plural?”
Dylan sighed. “Yup.”
“What’s that all about?”
“I don’t know. I think maybe they want to talk to me about what’s going on with the divorce, and to discuss the fact that my dad is moving away.”
“Well, that should be fun,” I said.
He groaned. “Yeah, it’ll be a blast, I’m sure.”
Caitlyn returned to the living room with a bottle of water and settled back into the empty spot on the couch between me and Dylan.
“Are you ready for this?” she asked as she pointed the remote at the TV.
“Sure am,” Dylan replied enthusiastically.
“You guys can start without me,” I said, getting up from the couch. “I have to make a phone call.”
“Yeah, okay,” Caitlyn said, waving me away.
“Have fun,” I said, mostly to Dylan. We exchanged amused glances before I turned to leave the room.
It was nice to see how much Caitlyn liked Dylan. She’d always liked Elijah—she’d even had a bit of a crush on him—but I think her infatuation with him was solely based on her thinking he was cute. They had never gotten to know each other, and they had never sat and watched an entire episode of a TV show together.
I could only imagine how excited Caitlyn was going to be when she found out she’d be seeing a lot more of Dylan in the future.
Heading up to my bedroom, I pulled out my phone and dialed Lauren’s number.
“Hey, girl,” she said, picking up after the first ring. “What’s up?”
“Hey, Laur.” I entered my room and shut the door behind me. “I was wondering if you’ve gotten anywhere with you-know-what yet?”
“You-know-what?” Lauren repeated with a snort. “Is this some sort of a top-secret spy mission or something? Have we been compromised? Should we go buy a couple of burner phones?”
I rolled my eyes even though she couldn’t see me. “Fine. Have you gotten anywhere yet with Project Elijannah?” Lauren had been the one to come up with that name, and I hated it. But since she was nice enough to be helping me out, I let her have it.
“That’s better. And no, not really. I’m taking things slow. If this works, I want it to seem as natural as possible. As if I had nothing to do with it.”
“Okay, but do you at least have a plan?”
Lauren nodded. “I’m going to start with something simple, like planting subliminal messages about each other in their heads, and casually bringing up old memories of when they were together to remind them of how happy they once were. I’ll do that for a while, and then, when I think they’re ready, I’ll set up the main event.”
“Main event? What’s the main event?”
“I don’t have the plans finalized yet,” she said, “but it’s going to involve getting the two of them in the same place at the same time and setting the right mood. I’ll figure it out.”
“You’re not going to do something cliché like trap them alone in an elevator together until they realize their feelings for each other, are you?”
There was a long pause on her end before she finally said, “No, but that might be a great backup plan. Let me go write that down.”
With a chuckle, I dropped down onto the edge of my bed. “So, do you think you’ll be able to get them back together? And if so, how long do you think it will take?”
“Why?” Lauren asked. “Are you and Dylan having a hard time keeping your hands off each other?”
Admittedly, that was part of the problem. Now that we’d admitted our feelings for each other, I was eager to begin a relationship with Dylan. I wanted to hold his hand at school. I wanted to sneak kisses in between classes when there were no teachers around. I wanted to spend time with him outside of school or working on our project—like go on a date. A dinner and a movie. I wanted to have a normal, drama-free relationship like the one I’d had with Elijah up until he cheated on me.
“No,” I lied. “I just want everyone to get a happy ending. And the sooner, the better. That’s all.”
“Well, I’m working on it, but it might take a while. If Elijah is still as hung up on you as he claims, this isn’t going to be an easy task.”
“I know.” I glanced down at my watch. “I should let you go now. Dylan’s here and I left him alone downstairs with Caitlyn and an episode of Baker’s Dozen.”
Lauren laughed. “You must not like him that much if you’re willing to put him through the torture of watching reality shows with Caity.”
“I know, right?” I said with a grin. “Hey, Laur, thanks again for helping me out with all this.”
“No problem. You’re my best friend and I love you, and I want to do whatever I can to make you happy.”
“Aw, Lauren, I love you, too,” I gushed.
“Okay, I’m going to hang up before this gets too mushy,” she said. “Talk to you later!”
She ended the call before I could respond. I put the phone back in my pocket and made my way back down the stairs to the living room, where I was greeted with the sound of bickering coming from the couch.
“You can’t be serious,” Caitlyn said to Dylan with a horrified look on her face.
“What?” he asked defensively. “Grant is fine, I like Grant, I just don’t think he’s got what it takes to win.”
“Oh, but you think Annabel does?”
“Yes, I do. She takes more risks than Grant does, and it always pays off.” Dylan motioned to the TV screen. “Look at the judges’ faces. They obviously agree with me.”
With a huff, Caitlyn crossed her arms tightly over her chest and said, “You just like Annabel because she’s hot.”
My gaze shot to the TV, where a beautiful blonde woman in her mid-twenties was smiling at whatever the judges were saying to her. Caitlyn was right; Annabel was hot, even in her unflattering chef uniform.
“Trust me, that’s not the reason,” Dylan claimed. “I don’t even like blondes. Brunettes are where it’s at for me.”
I could feel his eyes on me as he said that, and I blushed as I turned around to face him. Sure enough, he was staring at me with one cocked eyebrow and a smirk on his face that indicated he wasn’t talking about brunettes in general—he was talking specifically about me.
Clearing my throat, I said, “Are you two seriously arguing over a cooking competition?”
“No,” Dylan said at the same time Caitlyn said, “Yes.”
She shot him a glare and then turned to me. “He’s trying to tell me that Grant won’t win, and that he doesn’t deserve to win.”
Dylan shook his head. “I never said he didn’t deserve to win. You’re putting words in my mouth.”
Fuming, Caitlyn ignored him as she stared straight ahead at the TV.
“Caity, you’re being rude,” I said.
“He was rude first.”
Dylan held his hands up in defense. “I wasn’t being rude; I was just voicing my opinion. But either way, I’m sorry. I’ll support Grant if that’s what you want.”
Caitlyn’s expression softened. “No, I want you to support whomever you want.” She paused and grimaced. “Even if it’s Annabel.”
I smiled and joined them on the couch. “I’m with Dylan on this one. I think Annabel has what it takes to win.”
Caitlyn let out a frustrated growl. “You don’t even know who Annabel is! You don’t watch this show!”
“But I do know that Dylan has way more experience with cooking than you,” I said. “I watched him make lasagna last week. All I’ve ever s
een you do is pour milk on cereal. So, he probably knows what he’s talking about. At least, more than you do.”
Jutting out her chin, Caitlyn turned her attention back to the TV. “Can you stop talking now? Dylan and I are trying to watch the show.”
Dylan grinned at me over Caitlyn’s head. “Yeah, Cass. Have some respect.”
I stuck my tongue out at him and retrieved my notebook and pencil from the coffee table. Because I had little interest in watching Baker’s Dozen myself, I decided doing my homework would be a more productive use of my time.
When the episode ended nearly thirty minutes later, Dylan sat forward and looked at his watch. “Well, this has been fun, but I should be getting home.”
Caitlyn pouted. “Are you sure you don’t have time for one more episode?”
“Sorry, not tonight. But we can watch the next one soon. I promise.”
“Okay, fine,” she said with a resigned sigh. She turned off the TV and got up from the couch. “How about tomorrow?”
Dylan looked to me for approval. With a shrug, I said, “It’s fine with me if it’s fine with you.”
He nodded. “Okay, then,” he said to Caitlyn. “Tomorrow. Same time, same place.”
Caitlyn beamed, clearly happy she got her way without having to put in any effort. “Great! See you tomorrow, then!” She grabbed her backpack off the floor and exited the room.
“You’re too good to her,” I said as soon as she was gone.
Dylan smiled. “Yeah, well, I’m trying to impress her older sister.”
“Her older sister was already impressed,” I said, returning his smile. “Do you really need to go now?”
“Yeah, I do.” He pushed off the couch and began stuffing his books into his backpack. “I don’t want to be late for dinner. I can’t remember the last time my parents and I had a meal together.”
“Well, you can call me later and tell me all about it if you want.”
“Thanks. I might just take you up on the offer.”
I stood and walked over to the coat closet, retrieving Dylan’s jacket and handing it to him. “Hey, Mom,” I yelled over my shoulder, grabbing my own jacket and throwing it on. “Dylan’s leaving. I’m walking him out. Be back in a few minutes.”