Dylan (Wild Men)

by Melissa Belle

  “I don’t know about that fund,” says one. “I tried it for a few years and ended up having to get out of it. It wasn’t doing anything! I might as well have had the money under my pillow.”

  As everyone laughs, and I unenthusiastically along with them, I spot Dylan again. This time he’s alone and he’s walking toward me. Without realizing what I’m doing, I watch him the entire time.

  He walks with confidence, his head held high. His long legs and broad shoulders are relaxed. He catches my eye, and my cheeks blaze with heat.

  He stops moving and beckons to me with his index finger. I go to him without so much as a word to the men I’d been standing with.

  “Hey, Ms. Jasalie Gordon.” He smiles when I reach him, and his teeth are so straight and so white, I—well, I can imagine them nibbling lots of interesting places on my body.

  His expression is cocky and certain. He’s clearly used to getting whatever he wants. Normally, this would turn me off. But everything about Dylan Wild just fires up my hormones more.

  “Hey.” I stand awkwardly in front of him and clasp then unclasp my hands.

  “Are you okay? After what my ex-teammate did to you at the party…” His eyes flash with that same vulnerability I saw the first time we met, and I hate my stomach’s happy dance about the fact that he remembers me. “I want to apologize on his behalf because he’s not enough of a man to do it himself. I went back to look for you after I escorted him out, but you were gone. Were you all right?”

  I nod quickly. “Of course. I’m fine. But I do appreciate your help. I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to tell you that then.”

  His eyes turn hard. “I don’t blame you for wanting to get away from all of us. That jerk who assaulted you is no longer with the team.”

  I don’t want him to know how much that information relieves me. I let out a breath. “So he’s…”

  “Not here.” He puts his hands in his pockets and searches my gaze. “I told the owner what he did to you. He cut him the next day.”

  “Oh.” I can’t remember the last time someone stuck up for me like that. “Well, that will make this weekend easier then.”

  Our eyes lock. And for a moment, everyone in the crowded room disappears. It’s just him and me, studying each other for clues.

  “Come take a quick break with me,” Dylan says abruptly.

  Before I can think of an excuse to say no, he leads me toward the bar and gestures to the stool next to him as he takes a seat.

  After a moment’s hesitation, I sit. I pray my pounding heart will decide to stay in my chest and not jump right out and land on the counter.

  He points at the half-empty vodka and cranberry drink I’ve placed on the bar. “Can I get you another?”

  I shake my head. “I’m working.”

  “When you’re done, do you want to do something together?”

  “Are you asking me out?”

  “Just one date—what do you say?”

  He has the cutest dimples that show up when he smiles a certain way. They don’t show up with every smile, but they’re on his face right now, and I want to press my tongue into those dimples. But I know that’s not my brain talking.

  “I already told you I’m not interested in sleeping with a famous athlete.” I hate the way my answer sounds, but it’s what I would say to any other man in here, and I don’t trust myself with Dylan Wild.

  “Hopefully, I can convince you there’s more to me than just being a football player.”

  I play with the coaster underneath my drink as I start rambling awkwardly. “You don’t have to convince me of anything, Mr. Wild. I’m sure you’re a very nice guy. I just have a lot going on right now, things that need my attention, and I can’t afford to be distracted.”

  “What kinds of things?” His eyes are open and interested as he focuses his gaze on me.

  I swallow. I haven’t told a soul about the letter from the casino, but I’ve wanted an outside ear. And Dylan is a stranger, someone I’ll never see again after this weekend. Maybe if I just give him part of the story, get it off my chest, I’ll come up with the solution that’s eluded me for days.

  “I’ve got this…friend,” I say slowly. “She’s in a financial pickle. I’m the only one who can help her, but I don’t have the means. So I’ve got to get creative to come up with a solution. It’s a problem that’s going to take up most of my free time.”

  Dylan’s expression loses that “celebrity gloss” I see so much of in L.A., that sheen where someone stops living in reality. His shoulders relax, and I see genuine empathy in his gaze.

  “I’m sorry. Financial stress sucks. I didn’t grow up poor, but we certainly weren’t immune to money problems.”

  I nod. “It can be stressful, yes.”

  “How much does your friend owe?”

  “Twenty-five thousand dollars.” The amount pops out of my mouth before I can stop it, but Dylan doesn’t blink. I let out a nervous laugh. “For you, that’s probably not a lot. But for her, and for me, it feels like an impossible hurdle.” I’ve managed to regain control of my pulse. And with some of my power back, I stand up. “But I’ll figure something out. I always do. It’s been nice speaking with you. I have to get back to work now.”

  But Dylan stands also and blocks my path. “When do you get off?”

  “Is that any of your business?”

  “I’d like it to be.” He grins.

  I have to work really hard not to smile back. I almost succeed.

  “I want to talk to you more,” he says, sounding surprisingly truthful.

  I shake my head and smile wider. “Persistent, huh?”

  “Exactly. I’m hoping it will work.” He looks at me more closely, and once again the cockiness in his eyes disappears. “Is it?”

  “Unlikely.”

  “How come?”

  “You don’t fit my usual type.” Which isn’t completely true. I don’t really have a type. I just know that this man standing in front of me makes my insides shake, and that in and of itself is terrifying.

  “Well, you’re not mine, either.” His laugh is low and rich and sounds genuine. “But I like you,” he murmurs. “And for someone who’s not your type, how am I doing so far? Intrigued at all?”

  Of course I’m intrigued. I’d have to have no senses to not be intrigued by this guy. Not because he’s rich and famous but because he’s absolutely perfect. Not just physically. He’s one of the sexiest, most personable, attractive human beings I’ve ever laid eyes on.

  I bite my lip. “You’re pretty arrogant. You know that?”

  He smiles. “I’m actually not. Not right now, anyway. I just can’t help noticing you.”

  I try to speak but can’t. My mouth has gone completely dry. I grab at my drink and take a swig. But I choke on the liquid. While I hack and cough, Dylan pats my back and offers me a napkin. I take it from him and struggle to compose myself.

  Once I recover, I try again. “Look, Dylan. I mean Mr. Wild…”

  “Dylan. Please call me Dylan.”

  “Okay.” I tap my foot on the ground. “Dylan…” God, I like the way that sounds rolling off my tongue. “I can’t spend any time socially with you. Now or at any time in the future. Good-bye.”

  I dash off as fast as I can without looking back. I won’t have to worry about Dylan Wild again. I’m sure I made my point clear.

  Dylan

  Once again, I watch Jasalie walk away from me, and I know I’m grinning like a fool, but I don’t fucking care. I enjoyed talking to her and bantering with her. I love that I can speak to her without bending myself in half like a pretzel. She’s nearly my height, and she doesn’t try to shrink from that fact, either. She stood toe to toe with me, practically daring me to back off. She’s smart and funny, and the fact that she walked away doesn’t turn me off—it winds me up.

  For the second time in as many meetings, she turned me down. And just like the first time, I like that she said no. I love that she said no. I can’t
remember the last time a woman turned me down for anything. Jasalie Gordon doesn’t just want Dylan Wild the celebrity. In fact, she seems like she would rather be a million miles away from that part of me. Which suits me just fine.

  But her telling me no and thinking that’s the end of this?

  Not going to happen.

  I love a challenge. The bigger the odds, the better I perform.

  All I want is one date. If she says no to the whole weekend idea after trying it out once, I’ll accept that. But I need a chance for her to get to know me first.

  I finish my drink and put the empty glass on the bar. Colton’s right. I need a plan.

  Jasalie

  Football players certainly like to party. I’ve catered more events than I can count for Apex, but these football parties always seem interminable.

  “Hey, Jase.” Lilla finds me sneaking in a quick break at the end of the bar. Her eyes half close as she slumps onto the stool next to me.

  “Hey, Lil.” I pat her back. “You all right?”

  “I’m so tired. It must be after midnight, and we’ve been working like dogs all night. This one feels as tiring as the Super Bowl party last week even though there’s far fewer people.”

  “I know. Bill said we could leave soon.”

  “Why don’t we…oh, Jesus.” Lilla claps her hands over her mouth and stares behind me.

  “What?”

  Before I can turn around to see what she’s looking at, I feel a tap on my shoulder. I swivel on my stool and swallow at Dylan standing in front of me holding out his hand.

  “I have a favor to ask. Come with me for a minute?”

  I try to ignore the butterflies in my stomach as I follow him, but I don’t take his hand. I have no idea where we’re going, but we leave the noisy, crowded bar and head through the lobby. Dylan holds the outside door open for me and then stops by the top of the stairs leading down to the parking lot.

  A full moon and hundreds of stars light the sky. I admire the mountain backdrop as I relax into the welcome silence of the outdoors.

  “So,” he says. “You say I’m not your type, correct?”

  I force myself to look up and make eye contact with him. His gaze locks on mine.

  “Right,” I say.

  “What will it take for you to agree to go out with me?”

  I stare at him. Is this guy for real? “I don’t think I know how to answer that question. Do you always get what you want?”

  He sucks in his breath but doesn’t take his eyes off me. “What about if we make some sort of a deal?”

  “Like what?”

  He clears his throat. “You need something, and I need something.”

  I raise an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

  “I have this charity,” he begins, completely throwing me off. I don’t know what I thought he was going to say, but that was definitely not it. “It’s called Wild 4 Kids, and one of the main focuses is using art to help kids. It means a lot to me because I’ve never been any good at art, but I’ve always loved it. I know how therapeutic it can be. My charity supports foster kids—”

  My knees nearly buckle under me, and I widen my eyes at him.

  He frowns in concern. “Did I say something to upset you?”

  I shake my head too quickly for him to believe me. “No. Go on.”

  He puts a hand on my arm to make sure I’m steady and then continues, “Kids who have no home to go to, who’ve been abandoned. I want to bring art to them.”

  I feel like I’m going to swoon. He’s not just hot and successful. He also has a good heart. He cares. About the same things I care about. Kids, art—oh my God, I’m definitely swooning.

  “I think that’s an admirable cause,” I say, trying to sound professional. “I applaud your efforts.”

  “Thanks.” He shifts on his feet, and if I didn’t know better, I’d think he was nervous about something. “Okay, so here’s the thing: we’re in line to receive a huge donation from a sponsor, the biggest donation we’ve ever had. All I have to do is make a commercial for his company. But I recently was told that there’s a hitch.”

  He watches me to make sure I’m still with him. I nod again politely.

  “The hitch is that the guy at the helm of the company is a conservative guy; old-fashioned, I guess you could call him, and he’s concerned that I’m single.”

  I shake my head. “What? Why would he care?”

  “He thinks it will reflect badly on his company’s mission if a partying, womanizing athlete represents him. He wants stability, goodness, that kind of thing. But he loves our charity, and he wants to back it.”

  “I’m sensing a ‘but’ in there.”

  “But…only if I can convince him I’m a safe bet. So my agent thinks if I date someone while I’m in Arizona with all the photographs coming out of our team event in Tucson, it will get back to the guy, and he’ll sign on. Once we sign, the CEO can’t back out if my relationship doesn’t last.”

  I raise an eyebrow at him and don’t say anything. Dylan shifts backward like I’ve knocked him off-balance somehow.

  Then his cocky grin returns from wherever he’d lost it. “Okay, I’ll be more direct; would you be my date for the weekend, Jasalie Gordon?”

  Holy shit. “Why me? Why the hell would you pick me? How about Natalie, your girlfriend?” I fire back.

  “Natalie’s not my girlfriend.” Dylan’s eyes flash with an emotion I can’t read before he shuts it down. “Why you? Because I want you to be my date. And I’ll compensate you for your efforts.”

  What the fuc—

  “I’ll have half the twenty-five thousand wired to your bank account by tomorrow and the rest at the end of the weekend.”

  I cannot be hearing him right. He’s offering to pay me?

  “Are you fucking serious?” I glare at him. “You want me to be your escort?”

  “No!” His hand catches my wrist as I start to storm off. “Jasalie, that didn’t come out well. Look, I want to take you on a date this weekend, disregarding the charity and your financial dilemma, but you turned me down. Several times. This would be a win-win for both of us. The bonus would be that I get to spend time with you, and maybe you’ll see I’m not such a bad guy. This conversation obviously isn’t endearing you to me, but I’m hoping your feelings will change.”

  I tap my foot and look out again at the mountains. Out where it’s safe and Dylan Wild isn’t pursuing me with a fervor the likes of which I’ve never experienced.

  “I don’t date clients,” I finally say. “Even potential clients.”

  And I don’t date celebrities. Really, I shouldn’t be dating at all right now because I’ve proven I can’t even handle a rebound. That date I went on last month after Joel and I broke up was disastrous. It still gives me the creeps to remember that guy. He was clingy and pushy, and I was so not into him. I was out of there within the hour, and yet he’s called me three times since then. Me and dating are definitely not compatible right now.

  But twenty-five thousand dollars.

  To have the answer to my prayers be within reach is so tempting. And all I’d have to do is spend time with someone I’m going to be seeing all weekend long, anyway. I know Bill would approve. Hell, he’d probably be answering, “Heck, yes, she’ll do it,” right now if he were here. But I can’t. I can’t take Dylan’s handout just to save my mother. I haven’t spoken to her since I was four. That would be so irrational.

  Before I can figure out how to tell him no, he reveals why he’s so talented on the football field—no matter the blockade, Dylan Wild always figures out how to move the chains.

  “Lilla tells me you’re from here,” he says slowly.

  I tap my foot on the pavement, already sensing where this is going. And right now, I want to kill Lilla because she clearly handed Dylan his trump card.

  I try to bluff. “So?”

  He never takes his eyes off me. “So I’d like a tour of Tucson. How’s tomorrow?”

  I tight
en my jaw. Of course I can say no. And under any other circumstances, I would. This guy is clearly comfortable pulling out all the stops to get what he wants. Beyond the added fact that I don’t know any more about Tucson than he does.

  But I know my boss. Bill will find out about this because that’s just who Bill is. He’s like a paparazzo that way, or a gossip girl. And Bill will absolutely deny me the promotion if he thinks I did anything less than everything for our potential client. He already practically told me to proposition the owner, for God’s sake. This is nothing in comparison. I could maybe have gotten away with turning down the escort idea, but this…Bill won’t like it if I reject Dylan’s request. Plus, at least it’s all in public. I’ll take Dylan on a quick tour of the city, and that will be that. But then there’s the rest of his deal.

  “So tomorrow I take you on a tour, and if we don’t kill each other by the end of the afternoon, I agree to fake date you for the rest of this event?” I can hardly believe the words are coming out of my mouth. My jaw’s still struggling to work from when it dropped open at his offer.

  “Look, you’ll get what you need so you can help out your friend, and all those kids will get what they need. All you have to do is hang out with me for the next few days. Romantically in public. In private, that’s your call. But just so we’re clear, no strings either way.”

  I swallow and make eye contact with him again. His gaze is focused and determined. But something else is in his face—a depth that I can’t help wanting to know more about. I lean closer to him without planning to, but as soon as I do he shuts down his expression, and the openness in his eyes disappears.

  “No pressure.” He shrugs like his attempt to blackmail me is suddenly no big deal. “We’ll just spend some time hanging out. It’ll be fun. Get to know each other a little.”

  Get to know each other a little. That could work. After all, Dylan Wild can’t possibly be as perfect as he looks. It’s not possible. Everyone has flaws. And once I can actually see what his are, this ridiculous spell I seem to have fallen under will be broken, and I can return to my boring but predictable life with my two cats in Los Angeles and never think about him again.