Dylan throws back his head, laughing heartily at whatever she said, and butterflies scatter in my chest. My pulse is racing, and my heart is thumping wildly. I clasp the paper bag to my front, swallowing the lump of fear wedged in my throat. The girl thrusts her ample cleavage out and places her hand on his chest. My breath falters. He looks down at where her hand rests and then lower, his gaze clearly raking over the swell of her breasts in the low-cut top she’s wearing.
A whimper escapes my mouth, and tears sting the back of my eyes.
Dylan lifts his head and says something to her, and then she moves her other hand up the left side of his chest, and I see red.
Screw this shit. I can’t watch another second and not do anything about it.
I race across the street like a woman possessed. Dylan notices me approaching out of the corner of his eye, and his whole body tenses. Quickly, he removes her hands and takes a step back. He says something to her, and she jerks her head to the side as my foot hits the sidewalk.
“What the fuck is going on here?” I spit out, glaring at my boyfriend.
“Calm down, Gabby.” Dylan pulls me into his side, but I push him off. “This is Bianca. She’s a computer science major too.”
I take one look at her curvy body poured into the tight top and barely there jean skirt and snort. “And I’m fucking Santa Claus.” While I know you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover, I’ll chop off a tit if that brainless bimbo is actually a tech head.
“Really?” she replies, cocking her head to the side. “Is he a good lay?” She laughs at her own stupid joke, and I’d have a quick comeback ready if I wasn’t currently completely freaking out on the inside. I never got a look at the girls discussing Dylan in the bedroom at that party last week, but I would never forget the girl’s raspy voice.
I’d bet my life it’s the same girl—the one who told her friends that Dylan said he wanted to suck her tits and asked for her number.
I think I’m going to throw up, but I refuse to let this bitch see, so I compose my features into a neutral expression, ignoring her and focusing on Dylan. “Can we leave now?”
“Of course. See you later, Bianca.”
“So nice meeting you …” she trails off, tapping her finger off her chin and looking introspective. “Sorry, I’m just trying to remember if Dylan mentioned you, but nope. He never said a word.”
Dylan stiffens. “Don’t be a bitch, Bianca. You know exactly who Gabby is.”
Noticing his expression, she quickly backtracks. “Of course. Your girlfriend knows I was only joking.”
All sense of composure leaves me. Clenching my hands into fists, I step up to her, uncaring that she towers over me in height and in her heels. “Stay away from my boyfriend, you fucking skank,” I snarl.
“Gabby!” Now it’s Dylan’s turn to be disgusted with me. He pulls me back. “She didn’t mean it.”
“Yes, I did.” I glare at her. “Screw off and leave us alone.”
“See you in class, McStudly,” she purrs, blowing him a kiss, and my claws come out. I lunge at her, but Dylan senses my reaction, and he tightens his hold on me, hauling me down the road in the opposite direction.
She totters away with a smug grin on her face.
My sudden flare of rage switches direction. I shove at Dylan. “Let me go.”
“Not until you calm the fuck down.”
“Let me go or I’ll scream.”
“Now you’re just being childish.”
“I don’t care. I don’t want you touching me. I want you nowhere near me.”
“You’re completely overreacting, Gabby. She’s a friend from class, that’s all.”
I harrumph. “Do I look like I’m stupid?” I peer up at him, and he looks like butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth. “I saw you! I was watching from across the street.”
“And what did you see?” He sneers, letting me go and crossing his arms defiantly across his chest.
“She pushed her tits into you, and you were ogling them like you wanted to lick them.”
He laughs.
He actually laughs.
I see red again and lift my leg to knee him in the balls, but he stops me. “Quit that shit, Gabby. You are being completely unreasonable. I admit I looked. She has a great rack, and they were in my face. But there’s no crime in looking.”
“There is when she’s pressed up against you, feeling you up, and inching her way toward your mouth!”
“You’re such a hypocrite, Gabby.”
“What the hell are you talking about? I never so much as look at another guy. Why the hell would I want to?”
“Don’t lie. I see the way you look at him,” he spits.
I’m genuinely confused. “Look at who?”
“Slater fucking Evans.”
My eyes pop wide. “Are you kidding me right now? Slate is like a brother to me!”
He pokes his finger into my chest, pinning me with a ruthlessly cold glare. “I’m calling bullshit on that,” he yells, causing the couple in front of us to look over their shoulders.
I thrust his finger away, stepping back from the harsh glint in his eyes. In this moment, I do not know the man standing in front of me.
Even in the heat of an argument, Dylan has never raised his voice or glared at me like this.
Not once in all the years we’ve known one another.
I lower my voice and plaster a smile on my face, purely for the couple’s benefit. They have stopped walking, and now they’re looking at me with concern in their eyes. I nearly give myself lockjaw I’m smiling so hard. With one final glance between me and Dylan, they resume walking, and the smile drops off my face.
At least all the forced smiling has calmed me down a little. “I have never looked at Slater with any kind of interest, so whatever you think you’ve seen, you’re mistaken, and I sure as hell haven’t flirted with him or told him I want to suck his tits!”
He rolls his eyes. “This again? At least think of something original if you’re going to throw crap at me.”
“I know you said it, and I know it was her.” I hate how my voice breaks.
“You’re making a big deal out of absolutely nothing.”
I square my shoulders and pin him with a serious look. “I want you to look me in the eyes and tell me nothing is going on with Bianca.”
He moves in closer until his face is right up against mine. He eyeballs me without flinching or any emotion on his face and says, “Nothing is going on with Bianca. Absolutely nothing.”
My heart plummets to my toes, and tears stab the back of my eyes. I can almost physically feel my heart splintering behind my ribcage. I shove the bag with his migraine medication at his chest. “Liar.”
Then I turn and run.
Chapter Nine
I’m still sobbing by the time I reach Myndi’s dorm. Just as I round the corner of her building, I spot her and Ryan leaving. They have their arms wrapped around each other, and they’re swooning at one another with matching lovesick expressions. They don’t even notice me as they head out on foot in the opposite direction. I know if I called after them they’d readily forgo their plans to comfort me. But I don’t want to ruin their night. And I don’t want Ryan to see me like this. He’d probably put Dylan in the hospital if he saw the state I’m in.
So, I take a risk and go back to the condo. It’s empty, and that does little to reassure me. What if he went after her? Images of Dylan sucking on Bianca’s tits torture me as I change into my running gear. I can’t believe he lied so competently to my face. But he clearly forgets how well I know him. Dylan has a bunch of tells I’m familiar with, and that’s how I know he’s not telling the truth. Heartfelt pain consumes me, and I burst into tears as I drop onto the ground.
After a little while, I give myself a pep talk, drying my eyes and refusing to drown in a s
ea of tears while he’s out doing who knows what.
I decide to use the indoor running track tonight even though it’s still mild enough to run outdoors. I’m terrified in case I bump into Dylan and that cow and fearful I’ll be up on a murder charge if I do. No, I need time to think everything through, when I’m less emotional, before deciding on my next step.
I run lap after lap, pushing my limbs to the limit, but even the burn in the back of my calves does nothing to quell the tsunami of emotions contorting my insides into knots. So, I head to the gym and start pummeling my fists into the punching bag. I’ve no clue what I’m doing, but I just go at it, venting all my pent-up frustration and pain.
“Shit, what did the bag ever do to you?” Slater says, materializing at my side.
I’m almost out of breath as I answer him, and my knuckles throb, but I’m relishing the pain. “I’m imagining it’s Dylan’s head,” I hiss.
Slater shoots me a sympathetic look as he moves around, holding the bag for me. “He told you.”
I gulp, nodding tersely.
“I’m sorry.”
Little does he realize that’s not the reason I’m upset, but I don’t want to get into it with him. Or anyone for that matter. I just want to rage silently at the world with my fists. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“No problem.” Slater starts giving me tips, helping to improve my punch and my aim, and we stay like that for about twenty minutes.
He insists on driving me home as it’s completely dark out now. Pulling up in front of our building, he kills the engine and twists around to face me, the leather squelching in the process. “Are you okay?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. I’m too mad right now to figure anything out.”
“If you need a place to crash, you can come to our place. Take my room and I’ll sleep on the couch.”
“No, I …”
Do I need a place to crash?
That thought hadn’t even crossed my mind. I’ve never ever thought about what would happen if Dylan and I split up, because that’s never been on the cards. I don’t even know if it is now. I don’t know what exactly has gone on with Bianca. Maybe it’s nothing more than what I’ve learned. As much as that hurts to admit, and as tempted as I am to tell him to fuck off, I’m not throwing away my relationship over a skank who won’t leave my boyfriend alone. I haven’t invested all this time to walk away at the first big hurdle.
Whatever this is, we’ll work through it.
We have to.
Because the alternative doesn’t bear thinking about.
“Belle.” Slater slides his hand up my arm, eliciting a rake of little shivers.
I jerk my arm back, confused over my physical reaction to him lately. Screw Dylan for planting stupid thoughts in my head.
“I’m okay. I don’t need a place to stay, but thanks for offering.”
He opens and shuts his mouth in about ten seconds flat, obviously wanting to say more but thinking better of it. “Thank you for the ride.” I hop out. Before I close the door, I add, “I’d appreciate it if you kept tonight between us. I don’t want Ryan to worry about me. This thing with Dylan will blow over. Every couple has their share of arguments.”
He slants me a look of disbelief, and a muscle pops in his jaw. “Whatever you want,” he says, through gritted teeth. Restarting the engine, he white knuckles the steering wheel as I shut the door, and then he tears off out of there.
Dylan is sitting on the couch in the dark when I return. I’m tempted to ignore him, but pretending everything is okay will not make the issue disappear. His eyes follow me as I take a seat opposite him. The air is fraught with tension. I cradle my head in my hands, struggling to find the right words. My heart is shattering, and my resolve is weakening. I reach over and flick on the lamp, blinking as my eyes adjust to the light. Tears glisten in my eyes as I look at my boyfriend. The harsh glare from earlier is gone, replaced with a look that is part terror and part remorse.
Tears roll down my cheeks, and I hate what this is doing to me. I cannot even remember the last time I cried before this week. “I know you lied to me,” I whisper, swiping angrily at the hot tears coursing like a waterfall down my face. “Am I not enough for you anymore, Dylan?”
“Oh my God, no, Gabby.” He drops to his knees in front of me, looking up with anguished eyes. “Of course, you’re enough. More than enough.” Tentatively, he drops his head into my lap, and my fingers move of their own accord, threading through the dark strands of his hair. We sit like that for several minutes, the air heavy with all that’s left unsaid.
“Are you breaking up with me?” I whisper after a bit.
He sits down beside me, pressing his forehead to mine. “No, baby. No, no, no. That is the last thing I want. I love you. I swear it.”
My sobs fill the room, and I hate that I can’t stop crying, but I don’t know how to deal with the flurry of conflicting emotions battering me from all sides. “I need you to tell me the truth, Dylan. Did you say that to Bianca? Did you take her number, and have you been texting her?”
The look of shame on his face confirms it, and I completely break down, sobbing uncontrollably. He tries to wrap his arms around me, but I scoot away from him, curling my knees into my chest as I cry.
“I’m so sorry, Gabby. It meant nothing. It means nothing.”
“Like the girl with her hand on your dick meant nothing?” I spit.
He hangs his head, and his chest heaves. “I don’t want anyone but you. I mean it.” He moves closer on the couch. “I love you, Gabby. I have loved you practically my whole life. You’re my entire world.”
“Why, Dylan? Why did you say that to Bianca, and why are you texting her?”
His eyes plead with me. “I don’t know why I said it. It just popped out of my mouth, and I don’t know why I took her number or texted her back when she texted me.”
I bare my teeth at him. “What a stinking pile of shit, Dylan! Of course, you know why you did it! Because you thought she’d let you suck her tits and she’ll probably let you fuck her ass too? Is that what this is? You’ve been harping on about that for weeks, knowing I’m not comfortable with it. Have you found someone who is?”
He claws a hand through his hair, gulping. “Fuck no! I swear to you, Gabby, it’s like my brain disengages sometimes, and I blurt stuff that’s in my head without thinking.”
I swipe the tears from under my eyes. “What a convenient excuse,” I hiss. “But at least now you’ve admitted it’s what you’ve been thinking.” I stand, not wanting to be in his presence a second longer. “I feel like I don’t even know you anymore, because the boy I fell in love with would never have treated me like this and then blatantly lied about it.” I step around the couch. “I’m going to take a shower, and I’d really like it if you’re gone when I come out.”
A muscle ticks in his jaw. “I’m not going anywhere, Gabby. I know I fucked up, but I’m not walking away from here or from you. I know I’ve hurt you, and I’m so unbelievably sorry about that, but I’m not giving you up.”
“Fine. Then I’ll leave.” I stomp away, and he races after me.
He tugs on my elbow, hauling me up against him. “You’re not leaving.”
“I’d like to see you try to stop me.”
He circles his arms around my waist, and I attempt to wriggle out of his hold. “You have every right to be mad at me. I don’t blame you in the slightest. And I know you need time to calm down. Take whatever time you need, but you are not moving out, Gabby. I love you. I love you. I love you.” Tears pour down his face. “I’m so sorry, but I promise it will never happen again. I will never hurt you like that ever again. Please, baby.” He rests his head on top of my hair, and all the fight leaves me.
I slump against him, clinging to him pitifully. “What’s happening to us?” I whimper as tears prick my eyes again.
Except everyone knows that sometimes love just isn’t enough.
Chapter Ten
I sleep on the couch, much to Dylan’s dismay. But I can’t lie beside him in bed pretending everything’s okay when it isn’t. I toss and turn most of the night, my brain refusing to switch off.
I don’t know if that’s normal.
If the piercing pain in my chest is normal.
Because Dylan’s never done anything to incite such reactions in me before. I want to believe him when he says he loves me, because I see the truth in his eyes, but I don’t understand how he can say that and then blatantly flirt with other women and text that cow behind my back.
And it’s not just the flirting.
His cold, sneering behavior outside the pharmacy hurt me just as much. He let me walk off knowing full and well I was upset, and he didn’t attempt to come after me. I’m too afraid to ask him where he went, so I didn’t ask, and he didn’t offer it up. And that’s one of the questions that plagues me into the early hours of the night.
The next thing I know, I’m being shaken awaken. “Gabby! Gabby!”
I sit up, yawning, and brush knotty strands of hair back off my face. I squint at Dylan, trying to focus my blurry eyes. “Where’s the fire?” I ask in a sleepy tone.
“Where’s my black checkered shirt? I’ve looked everywhere, and I can’t find it.”
“I don’t know. It’s either in your closet, in with the laundry, or the ironing pile.”
“I’ve looked there! It’s not there,” he snaps. “What the fuck did you do with it? You know that’s one of my favorite shirts.”
I narrow my eyes to slits. “Don’t take that tone with me. It’s got to be there somewhere. Look again.”
When Forever Changes Page 7