Disconnected: A Broken Story - Dillan

Home > Romance > Disconnected: A Broken Story - Dillan > Page 5
Disconnected: A Broken Story - Dillan Page 5

by A. E. Murphy


  “There’s always traffic,” I laugh.

  “Exactly, so I stay at my nan’s in the city four nights out of seven.”

  “Oh.” I rock my swing back and forth a little now that it’s stopped swaying and twisting. “I bet your mum misses you.”

  “She comes to see me most days after or before work if I’m free. It’s my dad that misses me the most. He works from home mostly now looking after Ashlyn.”

  “The baby sister?” He nods. “Yeah.”

  “I thought you owned jewellery stores?”

  “Oh, we do, but he mostly just designs the jewellery now. He has people who deal with the stores. My other Nan, my mum’s mum, is like manager of two stores in Essex so that helps. He has area managers. It’s crazy. Sometimes I forget how big the business is becoming.”

  “He’s talented.”

  “He is.”

  “Sorry that I’m so nosey. I just find your life so much more interesting than sitting in silence on a park swing.”

  He chuckles and leans back slightly, giving me another handsome smile. “It’s fine. It’s nice to talk about them actually. Ashlyn is the same. We call her ‘Little Mummy’ because she’s always up in our business.”

  “Yours and Emily’s?”

  “Oh yeah, she’s a bossy little sod but she’s so funny.” The love he has for his sister is making me melt.

  “I should head back soon,” I sigh, looking up at the greying sky. “My dad will want to see me.”

  “Sure, I’ll walk you.”

  “You don’t have to,” I blurt, not wanting him to feel obligated.

  “In that case I’ll walk five steps behind you, because my car’s at yours.”

  “Right.” I scrunch my nose up at my own stupidity. “But even if it wasn’t, I’d still walk with you.”

  “Any excuse to get your cardio in?”

  He responds with a wink and then falls into step beside me. “Something like that.”

  When we arrive home, I watch him climb into his sleek, black Mercedes and don’t stop watching until he’s gone from sight. I don’t realise how heavy my heart is beating until he’s gone and the lustful ringing of bells in my ears stops. He disturbs every sense I have. Even my common sense.

  “Oooh, Tyler’s got a boyfriend!”

  “Shut up, Dad,” I snap, spinning to smack him on his chest.

  He grabs my hand and pulls me in for a hug. “I’m going to miss you when you get married.”

  “Get off me,” I laugh as his blubber smothers me. “You need a bra for those moobs.”

  “I got one.” He follows me into the house. “Your momma’s hands.”

  “Ew!”

  “Speaking of yo’ momma.”

  “Stop.”

  “She’s making us lasagne.”

  I make a bee line back to the door. “In that case I’m going out.”

  He hooks a finger around the collar of my jacket. “She’s worked hard on this.”

  “I’m on a diet! I can’t eat lasagne. I also want to live.”

  He sighs and reaches into his pocket. “Fine, here.” I take the notes from his hand. “Stay away from fast food. Go to a salad bar or something.”

  “Thanks.” I grin and stuff it into my pocket. “See you later.”

  “Run, she’s coming,” he laughs and practically shoves me out of the door.

  “I don’t do running,” I murmur and set off for the high street.

  Every morning I’ve been up at six this week and I am exhausted. Dillan is letting me have Monday off but it’s bloody typical that now it’s here I’m awake at six and I can’t sleep. I should be having a lie-in for another hour and a half.

  I climb out of bed and head to the shower. My body is killing. Absolutely killing. I see painkillers in my near future.

  I’m proud of myself. I refused to see if I’d lost any weight when Dillan weighed me on two occasions this week. I’m frightened that if it doesn’t exceed my expectations I’ll go on a binge. It’s hard to believe that it has been a week since I ate a single ounce of junk food.

  I’ve got to have lost something.

  With two hours to kill until classes begin, I open my laptop and check over my coursework assignments. I’ve never been one to procrastinate; it’s probably why I get good grades. That and I don’t socialise.

  I hear my dad leave the house quietly when the clock strikes eight. He must think I’m already out or not yet up. I tap on my bedroom window as he walks around to the driveway and give him a wave.

  He smiles and returns it with a wink. That’s when I look up and notice a familiar black Mercedes about to pull into the driveway just after my dad’s car leaves.

  What the hell is he doing here? It’s not exercise day! He promised.

  I’m half tempted to pretend I’m not home when he knocks on the door.

  Swinging it open, I drop on my knees and declare, “You’ll never take me alive.”

  He bursts into a fit of laughter. “That bad, huh?”

  “I have to crawl up the stairs and slide down on my arse, which feels less padded than usual.”

  He offers me a hand and hoists me up. “I came to drive you to classes, as an apology and a thank you for letting me destroy your body.”

  “You are the best.” I almost hug him. “I need to eat though.”

  “I brought you something new today.” He takes my bag from the hook near the door. “Breakfast?”

  “And lunch.”

  “My, my, Mr Weston, you do spoil me.”

  He grins and holds out his elbow for me to take. “My lady.”

  I slip my hand onto his arm and pull the door closed behind me. He leads me to his beautiful car and even opens the door for me. The inside is spotless. I can’t believe how spotless it is. Did he clean it knowing he’d have company or is he this neat all the time?

  “Such a gentleman.”

  “I do try.” He folds himself into the driver’s seat. “The last few days I’ve been a bit absent.”

  “Absent?”

  “We haven’t really spoken. I’ve been coming, exercising with you and leaving without so much as a conversation.”

  I frown at him. “Dillan, you’re training me. You didn’t mention anything about making conversation.”

  “Still…”

  “You don’t owe me anything.”

  He grins and comments dryly, “In that case get out of the car and walk.”

  My hand connects with his arm. “I’m driving here.”

  “Good, don’t stop until we get to school.” My stomach growls angrily. “Can I have my breakfast now?”

  “Just wait. You’re so impatient.”

  “I’m starving.”

  “On the back seat.” I spin around to look and spot his rucksack resting there in an upright position. “The tub on the very top is your breakfast… I think.”

  “You think?”

  “It could be mine.”

  My hand stalls on the zipper as I contemplate tearing into the bag and into my breakfast. Sighing, I zip the bag closed and sit properly in the passenger seat.

  “You’re not eating?”

  “Nah, I can wait. I want breakfast along with the conversation you promised me.” I reach forward and touch the buttons around the LED screen. “Does this thing play movies?”

  “Only when the car isn’t moving. There’s one in the back of my seat too that I had installed for Ashlyn.”

  “You had installed?”

  He nods. “Yeah, she demanded it.”

  “I didn’t know you worked.”

  He shrugs. “My dad prefers me to concentrate on my studies but he and Mum don’t want to give me money for free so I help them out when I can. Sometimes I’ll wash dishes and clean the kitchen at Mum’s restaurant; other times I’ll go to Essex and help my Nan in the jewellery stores.”

  “You’re a busy guy.”

  “I can be.” He looks at me when we stop at a red light. “What about you? How do you fund yo
ur hobbies?”

  “My dad hands me money whenever I ask, but I help around the house and sometimes I babysit my cousins. Mostly I’m a trust-fund baby.” I suddenly feel rather ashamed at my lack of life. “I really do need to get out more, don’t I?”

  Nodding, he continues driving but doesn’t comment. This only makes me even more ashamed.

  “What do your parents do for a living?” He asks curiously, manoeuvring the car easily around a van blocking the narrow road. “My mum is a writer, a good one too. She writes columns for the local newspaper and helps the radio with their scripts.”

  “That’s pretty cool.”

  “Yeah, she also has like three published novels. One of them was a bestseller a few years back.”

  He looks impressed. “My dad is a dentist.”

  “Well that explains why you have such perfect teeth.”

  My cheeks heat at his compliment. I try to hide it by letting my hair fall over the right side of my face from behind my ear. Just as we stop in a row of traffic, I feel soft, warm fingers brush my hair from my face and back behind my ear where they linger for a fraction of a second longer than necessary.

  I don’t say anything and neither does he. I just stare straight ahead, hoping my virginal body doesn’t combust from the lingering burn of his touch.

  Can he smell my arousal? Is that even a thing?

  He clears his throat and shifts in his seat. I’m relieved when we finally pull into the school grounds and easily find somewhere to park.

  I climb out, careful of the red car beside Dillan’s, and grab my bag from the back seat as Dillan grabs his.

  “It’s too cold out here.” Dillan pouts a little, making his plump lips look so much more kissable than usual. “We’ll have to brave the canteen.”

  “Screw that! So all of your rowdy friends can swamp me and make accusations regarding our friendship?”

  He bites his lip. “That’s a fair point. Shall we go back to the car?” Before I can respond, he blurts, “I don’t care what they think or say though. That’s not why I agreed with you.”

  “Didn’t even go through my mind.” I look back at his car. “It probably will be warmer in there.”

  “Let’s get back in then.”

  We take our seats and I eagerly await his grand breakfast to be presented.

  He hands me a spoon before handing me the round plastic tub. He even pops the lid open for me and I get a sweet, nice smell of something I can’t recognise.

  “Porridge?” I do enjoy porridge but it’s a bit of an anti-climax.

  “Don’t look at it like that; it’s a very special kind of porridge.”

  “It is?” It does look a darker shade than the porridge I’m used to.

  “It’s pumpkin and chocolate porridge.”

  “I’ve never tried pumpkin,” I admit and poke it with my spoon. It’s very thick but it does smell appealing. I take my first bite and close my eyes. “Oh wow.”

  “Told you so.”

  “Oh god it’s been so long since I tasted chocolate. And it’s still warm.”

  “Again, told you so.”

  “This is heaven in a pile of oats.”

  He laughs and lifts the lid of his own porridge. Like a scene from Beauty and the Beast, he brings the tub to his lips and drinks it.

  “Did you forget another spoon?” I lick mine clean as a jest and hold it out to him. “We can take it in turns.”

  Snatching it from me, he licks it himself and grins. “You first.”

  “Now we both don’t have a spoon.”

  We share a laugh before drinking our porridge together right from the tub, leaving us both with lumpy looking moustaches.

  Just as we finish, we are both startled when Leroy slams his hands against the bonnet of the car and leers at us through the window. Carl makes rude gestures with his hips before snatching the hand of Leroy and twirling under his arm like a dancer. I’m not sure what that was all about but it’s still amusing.

  “Are you coming, Lovers?” Leroy yells. I put the lid back onto the tub and hand it to Dillan, who gives me an apologetic smile.

  “You coming?” Dillan asks, reaching for his door handle.

  “Sure.” I pull on my own and climb from the car. Dillan rushes to the back and places the empty containers into the boot.

  “Here.” He takes my bag from me, giving me no room to escape. “Am I allowed to introduce you to everyone?”

  I look at Leroy and Carl, still jumping around like children and almost say no, but then I look into the hopeful eyes of Dillan and nod. This is going to be painful.

  The boys stop wrestling and approach us, both of them panting.

  “Guys, I’m going to escort Tyler to her class today.”

  “Whatever, man,” Leroy laughs, shaking his head and throwing his arm around my shoulder. “Feeling weak from all that running, Trip?”

  “Please don’t touch me,” I deadpan and Dillan throws his arm off me, only seeming to amuse him further.

  “You look great,” Carl compliments, smiling kindly.

  “Thank you.” Tucking my hair behind my ears, I look away because how the hell do you respond to that?

  “You haven’t lost that arse, have you, Trip?” Leroy laughs and Dillan scowls at him.

  “We’ll see you later,” Dillan snaps, gripping my elbow and rushing me ahead. “I’m really sorry about them. They can be pigs.”

  “At least they were sort of nice.”

  “If you can call that nice,” he mutters, brushing past people, still half dragging me. “They’ll calm down by lunchtime.” Lunchtime? “You’re in Three B, right?”

  “Yep.”

  I try to ignore the looks we get as Dillan leads me down the hall, still holding onto my hand and still carrying my bag for me. It’s hard though; people point without shame. This is ridiculous. It’s London. They must have a thousand things to keep them occupied.

  “How are you getting on with the maths coursework?”

  “It’s easy enough; it’s all in the textbook.”

  He chuckles quietly. “I forgot you get better grades than me.”

  “I have a lot of free time to study.”

  “Not anymore,” he points out and stops at the side of the door to my class. Leaning against the wall, one leg crossed casually behind the other, he peers down at me. “Wait for me at break.”

  “Why?”

  “So I can relieve you of your bag.”

  “You really don’t have to.”

  “I know.” He smiles and holds out a hand for me to pass. Gulping, I brush past him. My arm touches his chest ever so slightly as I go and my breath hitches. I feel his skin and muscles twitch beneath my touch and wish that he’d be as affected by me as I am him. “Enjoy your lesson, Miss Shepherd.”

  “You too, Mr Weston,” I mutter and rush to my desk, tripping on a metal chair leg as I go.

  Please don’t have seen that. Please.

  His laughter, along with a few others, sets my face aflame. “Do I have to carry you as well as your bag?” He calls into the room and two of his buddies cat call and wolf whistle.

  “Fuck off,” I curse, flipping him the bird. His laughter only gets louder.

  Georgina, a girl I can actually tolerate, a girl who has yet to say something mean to me, turns to face me and smiles. I return it as I organise my belongings.

  “Are you and Dillan dating?” She asks quietly, leaning her chair back on two legs.

  “No.”

  “Rumour is you are.”

  I smirk. “And rumour is you’re not a natural blonde.”

  She giggles and tightens her golden ponytail. “Rumours suck.”

  “Especially when they’re unfortunately not true,” I sigh heavily.

  “You like him?”

  I shrug. “He’s a decent guy; we’re just not compatible.”

  Her eyes become round with sympathy. “Why not? Is he a player?”

  “Not that I can tell.”

  �
�So why are you incompatible? Is he dating someone already?”

  I shrug again. “Probably. Guys like him don’t date girls like me.”

  “That’s so full of shit,” she sniggers and rolls her eyes. “Guys like that love a woman with a bit of meat on them.”

  If that were true, he wouldn’t be trying to change me. “Only time will tell.”

  “Eyes front, Georgina,” our teacher calls and the class falls silent.

  True to his word, Dillan meets me at break and walks me to my next class. Then he meets me at dinner and walks me to the canteen to sit with his friends. At first it’s awkward. They’re so at ease with each other and I just kind of sit to the side, the butt of the joke.

  Dillan keeps me involved in the conversation, helping me to relax and loosen up, and soon enough I’m enjoying myself despite the awkwardness floating around me. Maybe I have been harbouring old feelings towards my peers for too long. I need to move on.

  That’s one thing I’ve noticed since I changed my diet and exercise regime I feel so much happier than I did. I’m not snapping at my parents so much or holding grudges against people who look at me funny in the hallway. In fact, I feel almost enlightened. I was such a bitch before. Understandably, but still…I’ve been making myself miserable the past two years.

  Is this what it feels like to be healthy? I feel as though life before now was so grey in colour. Now I see everything.

  I realise that Dillan is talking to me and I haven’t heard a word he has said. “Right, Tyler?”

  “Right,” I respond, smiling, though I didn’t hear a word he’s said.

  “It’s a deal then.” He rubs his hands on his thighs, which are by my head. Dillan is sitting on the actual table with his feet on the chair beside the one I’m in. “Let’s go.”

  Go? I stand as he takes away my half-eaten lunch and stuffs it into my bag instead of his. Shit, I should really have been paying attention.

  I follow the group out of the canteen and along the hall, wishing with each step that I really had paid attention. When we exit the school itself and move to Dillan’s car, my heart starts racing.

  Are we skipping the rest of the day? Why didn’t I listen? I’m such a moron.

  “You look pale,” Dillan comments after we climb into his car. Leroy and Carl climb into the back; one of them stinks of a peppery scented aftershave.

 

‹ Prev