But in a way that consumes me.
His eyes grabbing mine once again when I try to look away, it’s deemed impossible by the intensity and power he has over me.
Power can’t be lost, it doesn’t go away, and it doesn’t come back. It knocks with a gentle reminder of what it is, who it is.
Dylan is graceful and solid across the room from me. The blue thread of his sweater inhales the strong lines of his body, the sinuous lines of his shoulders, holding his impeccably handsome face up to stare at me—to hold me in his gaze. His full lips harden between the sharp lines of his beard, his jaw square and strong as he focuses on me.
My body is no longer mine, it belongs to him now—this is the only proof of that. Because all I want to do is fall at his feet, into his arms, his soul—damages of my soul be damned.
“Forbes, come on.” Emily is pulling at my arm, and I hadn’t noticed.
“Oh, sorry.” I blink tearing my gaze from Dylan and the incredibly cute baby girl trying to crawl up his leg.
Emily gives me half a tour on the way upstairs to a small library. The house is designed in a manner that makes it impossible to place the era it was built in or the origin of design. Dark wood and darker trimmings are uniform, furniture a few shades lighter and grand enough to fill the high ceiling, wide rooms. I half listen to the blabber Emily spews on about, that their father always lived on the land in the smaller house a few acres down, that this was built soon after their fourth child, Isaac, was born, and wasn’t finished until Carson was born four kids later.
“I thought you came here to watch the game.” Though I don’t mind the private wine session in the family library, I feel like I flew here for a tour of the biggest house I may ever see.
“Mostly for the half-time show, but I promised I wouldn’t put you anywhere near Dylan.” She grins similar to the one that got me to wear this jersey. I have never even seen one of Fletcher’s games, but apparently, he is good, arguably responsible for getting the team this far.
“Yeah. I may not have been serious about that.” I sip at the wine, something from their cellar. That, I am interested in seeing. We lean back on the wide couch turning our heads to stare each other down.
“He looks good.” I smile to myself, mostly at how easily her soft stare got that out of me.
“He does.”
We finish a glass each. If I drink too much, inhibitions will be down too far.
“So, Carson and I have been fighting.”
“About what? I had no idea.”
“Nothing. Well, one thing that makes other things difficult. Marriage, for one. He wants to be ‘the man,’ you know, and it’s sweet until it doesn’t make much sense. I don’t feel right in that role if he isn’t really mine. Carson is old-fashioned, but he’s idealistic too, so it doesn’t work out sometimes. Anyway, I was mad for a while, then he was mad, but we finally agreed that we’re young and have plenty of time ahead of us. I was acting white-gown crazy for a little bit anyway.” She laughs at herself, and I smile sadly at her.
“I’m sorry I haven’t been present enough for you to talk to me. But I’m glad you worked things out.”
“We did. And I understand, you’ve got a lot going on from crazy medical bills to unrequited love. And I’m telling you now, Carson and I are always friends first, that’s why it works. We could fight over foreign policy the same way we might fight over crayons and come out none the wiser. I care about you, though, you and Dylan specifically.”
“Oh God,” I groan, going back on myself by pouring a glass of wine.
“I mean it.” She laughs. I signal her to wait until I’ve finished the glass.
Emily sighs, I turn to her, humoring her with my attention until I can’t pretend anymore.
“Dylan is… a different kind of person, and he likes you. It must be why you two click so well even when you’re avoiding it. When you aren’t, I’m sure you can agree that it’s impossible to ignore it. I don’t know how you’ve gone on this long.”
“There is so much to get through, Emily. It’s… you have no idea. The secrets he has, that he promised my dad to keep, and his dad. If it were possible, I would set the clock back, but I can’t.”
“And you don’t really want to.”
“Emily.” I sigh. “There is nothing you can tell me about him that will make this any easier. I need time, he needs more than time. He needs…” In exasperation, I shake my head in an attempt to clear it, my lids blinking to dry out the liquid pooling behind my eyes.
“Dylan never had it easy growing up, I mean. Despite being who he was because of the family he was born into, he had his problems. In school especially and with his parents. His mom was a lot easier on him, I guess because she knew how to deal with it. But his dad wasn’t, they didn’t get along for a long time. Not until he was at least out of high school. I grew up with them, so I know these things.” Emily sighs, and I give her my full attention, eyes wide as I meet her gaze.
“He didn’t have friends. Ever. It wasn’t because he didn’t get along with people because he could when he wanted to. He just didn’t, he always preferred solitude. His mom let him have his way… live that way, and his dad was the only one who didn’t let him. When he started apprenticing for his dad, I watched him transform into a different person. He was better. And then I watched him transform again when his dad died. It was worse, it was… he lost something. He hasn’t… he won’t get that back. The only time I saw him even slightly similar to the time before his dad passing was first at the ball when I watched him pine after you the whole evening, and then at the bar both times. I don’t know what he did to you or with you, and I don’t know how you’ll fix it, but you should because I can say the same thing about you when your dad died.”
A single tear escapes my eye right down over my lips before I swipe furiously at them. Folding in on myself as I always do to escape the truth, to escape what’s hard, Emily rubs at my shoulder, and I don’t feel like I can say anything because it wouldn’t be right.
In a moment, I realize broken edges belong together, that human nature doesn’t make mistakes, and that it only brings choices around so the wrong one can be made to see how good the right one is.
If I were strong enough, gritty enough to withstand the turmoil that comes with emotion and sacrifice, then I would be ready to do it.
It’s still hearsay, though.
“I… Dylan and I talked a little about himself, but he never said that. Nothing like that.” I exhale in pause for all I knew he had the same angsty childhood anyone could have, but not like this.
“He wouldn’t have. You know him somewhat to at least know that. I know he did that whole thing with your dad, and I don’t know how far that went, but he was really messed up at that time for months. He only recently got back on his feet, in hindsight.”
“What do you mean?” I thought sometimes about what he could have been thinking, before ever talking to him, to have done what I believed was the story. Now that I don’t know all of it…
“I mean… God this is like spilling family secrets. I’ve been sworn in by trade.”
“You don’t have to tell me.”
“No, it’s… just don’t ask him about it because no one even talks about it.” Emily sighs, her face viewed in anguish.
“Dylan is very loyal, especially to his family. But not to himself. At least a year or so after his dad died, he still hadn’t gone to the office, his brothers didn’t know where he had moved to. He used to live in a high-rise penthouse in the city, and now he lives in a vacant studio above the old fire station. Anyway, no one knew how to help him except to let him help himself. And he did, right onto the train tracks out by the city line. Grayson barely got him out of the car in time. He got better, obviously, but better is such an operative word. I don’t even know what that is anymore.”
I swallow down my gasp and wipe my tears, so they don’t draw creases in my makeup.
“What should I do?” What hardens my chest
is the thought of being that person—the one who helps. I can’t be his… the one.
That one person. I never thought I would even find one myself. But Emily is right.
I was different after meeting Dylan, officially, as a person and not as some statue. And he was, too. Surely, I’ve gotten past that. I can get past a little fear too.
“Talk to him.” She smiles softly. I do too.
“Yeah, right. When I’m around him, I either want to insult him or jump his bones. It isn’t an easy feat.” Our laughs catch together.
“We can eat first. Those wings looked amazing. And the half-time show, can’t miss that.”
Emily stands. I follow suit, and we stretch out, and the wine buzzes my head when I stand straight again.
With the dawning revelations and blackened gold truth, I swallow down everything I thought I knew and go search for Dylan instead.
25
Dylan
“I’m tapping out, seriously.”
Alec frowns at me, his dark eyes tired and face drawn. I shake my head behind his son making grabby hands. He sighs and takes him back briefly looking for Mia, I’m assuming. When he doesn’t find her, I engage in a short conversation with him about work. Alec and I both aren’t talkers unless it’s absolutely necessary. It works until I venture off to find Forbes.
After she walked in with Emily, they disappeared for a while only coming back for the half-time performance. After that, I wouldn’t know. I only stayed long enough to watch Fletcher’s team win and the press announce his interview is coming up.
And then I was on my own in one of the offices on the second floor. There are three. I never go into the den office because it was Dad’s. This one is fine, small and quiet. I’ve done my social duties for the night, and tired is an understatement. A part of me is riding a new high since seeing Forbes again. I didn’t think I would never see her again, but I didn’t expect to see her here. Of all places.
Everyone downstairs is still loud enough for me to hear. I haven’t been used to so much noise in the past few weeks. I work, avoid in-person meetings as much as possible, and then go home. No conversations, nothing that requires anything extra out of me. I hadn’t realized I was tired of that, of lacking something in my life that is worth anything. Besides my work life at Dad’s company, I don’t have anything else.
For a small second in the sun, I had Forbes.
Seeing my family again, seeing her again… I’ve had to make up my mind. If it’s good or not, I don’t know yet.
Two knocks run on the door. I doubt anyone in the family would knock.
“Yeah.”
I stand from the side chair in time to see Forbes walking in. My mouth twitches. “Hi.”
“It took me at least twenty minutes to find you.” She smiles softly shutting the door behind her and then walks my way. I view her from the ground up, her shapely legs carrying her my way, hips swaying below her curvy waist and full breasts filling the fabric of her shirt. I imagine the things Fletcher would say about her in this jersey.
“It’s like a maze… do you want a drink?” I gesture to the bottle of whiskey I grabbed from the bar.
“No thanks, Emily and I had too much wine.” She laughs once, strained in the exhale of her breath. Eventually, she comes closer to me, the cushion of the chair brushes her legs, and the heat of her body waves over me.
Being so close to her eyes again, I’m lost in the green of them and a string of blue in the iris. Her soft lips part. I stare so hard I might be able to taste them if I concentrate hard enough.
“I missed you. Unfortunately,” Forbes says, her eyes dance with the mischief that I remember.
“I missed you, too. Fortunately.” I lick my lips taking the next step to get as close to her as possible.
My hands grazing up her arms and around her waist create a shift in my body, around me. Around us.
Our eyes meet before I lean down to kiss her. My insides cinch up to the weight of her crushing down on me again. I’m back where we left off, my lips coaxing hers apart, and my tongue following suit to taste her—like wine as she said and the sweetness of her mouth. Her hands snake up and around my waist casting the glow of her around me again. I continue to kiss her until my lips go sore, and my body starts to react too greatly.
“I missed kissing you, too.” My hand cups her face, my thumb brushing her lips. Her cheeks rise in a smile, and she shakes her head once at me.
“I have to talk to you.”
“You hadn’t answered my calls.”
“I’m sorry, I… don’t know why I couldn’t talk to you yet.”
“But you can now?” I step away from her to concentrate, her floral scent brushing my nose and senses. Leaning on the arm of the couch behind me, I find her eyes again and almost wish I didn’t.
I take a deep breath, and my head shakes as my gaze drops to the floor.
“What did Emily tell you?” I gravel.
“What?”
“Don’t.” My hand rises, palm facing her as I cut her off.
Her lips press in a line, the ridge of her throat pulsing as she swallows.
“Emily didn’t say anything.” She lies. Walking my way, she blinks, but it doesn’t hide the expression in her eyes.
“Don’t lie to me, Forbes. That look…”
I sigh, swallowing the dry of my throat and wishing I had my glass of whiskey which is still on the desk across the room.
“Everyone in my family looks at me the way you’re looking at me right now. When they know everything, when they…” I harden my jaw and look away from her.
She steps forward, her hands go to my shoulders, her palms tightening. I look back at her and ignore the fencing inside me that says not to go there because I’m not sure I want to ignore it anymore.
“I don’t feel sorry for you, Dylan. Or pity you. I understand you. I… know how you feel. That’s how I’m looking at you. And your family, they look at you like they love you.” Her hands move to cup my face, her thumb pressing the skin under my cheek. “You should stop projecting.” Her lips play with a smile. I chuckle under my breath and grasp her wrists.
“I liked your insulting statements a lot better.”
She giggles softly, a sound I haven’t heard that way before. Like she means it.
“Me, too.”
“You said you came to talk to me.”
She sighs. “Yeah. Talk.”
I nod once. I motion for her to sit down and get up for that glass of whiskey I left.
“I have feelings for you, Dylan.” Forbes stares at me from across the room. I down the two sips and lean over the desktop.
“I know. I do, too. But you want answers.”
She nods. I nod back and turn my eyes to the screen. After I get into my email, I get to the last one from Horris and print everything I need. As promised to myself, I didn’t look at it until we had stopped talking, figuring out where or how I could tell her. I suppose the time is now.
“I told my mom. Over the phone, so I wouldn’t have to see her face.” The papers start printing, and I glance at Forbes.
“What did she say?”
I sigh at the memory of that conversation. Mom and I decided to tell everyone in time if she felt like she had to. It was the middle of the day, and it had been eating at me long enough. The unknown, most likely. As always, Mom was understanding and kind thanking me for respecting Dad. Forbes’ father isn’t here to tell me what to do now, just his child I promised to protect.
“The usual. She was fine with it.”
“Told you so,” she sings. Her face falls, and then her eyes focus on me again.
“Right,” I scoff.
When I grab the papers off the printer, I return to her side sitting by her on the couch.
“What’s this?” She looks at me, blinks a few times as her gaze gets lost in mine. I swallow hard, my breaths becoming short as my body surges with the onslaught of what I don’t know. I feel like I have gotten her back if that’s e
ven the case. Now I may be ripping her away.
“It’s everything.”
26
Forbes
“Everything? What do you mean?”
My lips still pulse with the kiss from before celebrating the odd reunion between us. I felt a little foolish trekking around the house to find him. I didn’t want to tell Emily to spare myself the speech she might give. And now here I am facing him again.
Deeply missing him, wanting him… All facts aside, I do want him.
His integrity, his values, him—the person. And his handsome face too, the body… but mostly what’s inside.
Dylan sighs from the inside of his chest as his gaze averts mine. I wait patiently and twiddle my thumbs but not literally. I’m chomping at the bit inside.
“This is the transcript of the meeting I had with your father. It’s protocol for any employee termination. But I never filed it with human resources.” Dylan sets down a small stack of papers on the table in front of us.
He waits until I grab the papers. I don’t read all of it. I skim. My dad met with him in his office, they talked about work before my dad mentioned being laid off, and it cuts off too much for me to continue.
“And this is what I had my PI get for me after I found out he was your dad. I wanted to know why he… I had to know what happened in case you wouldn’t tell me if I asked. But I didn’t look at it until after we stopped talking.”
I nod, glazing over the parts about him hiring someone. “Let me see.”
Dylan lays the last few papers out on the desk, his index finger pointing as he talks. “This is the written copy of a request made to UNOS for a directed donor donation and confirmation that it was approved.”
“A… a what?” I whisper, leaning forward to take a closer look at the paper. Dylan moves closer to me, the outside of his leg brushing mine.
The panic and unease in my head doesn’t match the calm outside of me from being in contact with Dylan.
“The rest might explain.” He moves the other paper in front. “He filed this paperwork with the hospital six days before he died making himself a donor and a DNR, but only after he made sure UNOS had him down as a donor. After that, he made changes to his life insurance policy and last will, in short getting all his affairs in order. I cross-matched it with the day you were rushed to the hospital after your condition had gotten worse, which all happened before he even made the call to UNOS. After all that, he…”
Wilde About Dylon: The Brothers Wilde Series — Book Four Page 17