Unsocial

by Dykes, Nicole

  I lock up Dylan’s house when the cab arrives and climb in. Each mile away my heart gets a little heavier, not with regret, never that. It’s heavy because of the impossibility of our circumstances that will never allow us to have a chance at really being Dylan and Brooke without all the other complications. When we arrive at my apartment, I open the door hoping I can sneak in without Alex noticing that I’m just getting in. She's a heavy sleeper, and it's only 8 in the morning after what I’m sure was a long New Year’s celebration. I seriously doubt I have to worry about her being awake. Thank God, because there’s no way I could explain Dylan’s clothes.

  Closing the door behind me I glance toward the living room, then the kitchen, and there’s no Alex. I tiptoe straight to the bathroom and lock myself in. I strip and get in the shower washing away the lingering smell of a night of sex and soothing my aching body.

  After I finish washing, I lean back and let the water warm my skin, and then a knock interrupts, "Brooke, hurry up I've got to pee!"

  Alex. Damn. I get out to wrap a towel around my hair and one around my body. The clothes I bunch up and shove in the bottom of my laundry hamper, thankful Alex and I don’t share one. Then I open the door to an obviously post-sex Alex. Interesting.

  She rushes in, "Thanks, I was about to burst!"

  I laugh, "No problem."

  I leave and head to my room, but as I pass Alex’s door, which is standing open, I see a heavily tattooed, massive man that could only be Jackson, and he’s sprawled beautifully naked on top of her bed. More than interesting. I hear the toilet flush and haul ass to my room before I get caught ogling Dylan’s best friend in my best friend’s bed. So awkward.

  My door swings open, and she’s standing at the door looking uncomfortable. "I know you saw Jax in my bed, but don’t judge me.”

  I laugh and pull the towel from my head to run my fingers through the wet tangles. "For what?"

  She sits down on my bed, "You know what."

  "Alex, I would never judge you."

  She flops back on my bed, "I know I have a three-date rule, and I’ve always stuck to it, but Jackson…I mean, you've seen him! And, oh God, he looks even better with his clothes off. And technically we have had three dates."

  I look over at her with one of my eyebrows raised, "Okay, now this I’ve gotta hear.”

  "Um, October at the bar, Thanksgiving, and last night. See, three dates."

  I laugh, "You're reaching, like waayy out there for that, my friend."

  She sits up laughing, "Well, a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do, and if you had had the night like I had last night you would be counting brief eye contact as a date. Holy hell, Brooke, he's an animal! Oh my God, and his dick..."

  I cover my ears, "No, no, no, Alex. Stop right there because I do not want to hear about how good Jax is in bed and certainly not about his, uh, dick. Boundaries. Filters. Use them, please.”

  She giggles like a teenager and hops up, "Suit yourself, but man I am sore today."

  "La, la, la. I can’t hear you.” We both laugh at my obvious immature reaction. Just before she opens the door, I decide to ask, because she is my friend and I do want to know if I should worry about her heart after last night. “So what does it mean? You and I both know Jackson isn’t into dating. He’s even said so himself.”

  She shrugs and laughs off my question. “I know all that. We didn’t discuss anything beyond last night. It is what it is, a New Year’s Eve hookup, and I’m cool with that. I’m pretty sure millions of others did the same thing last night.” I know her, and she may not be in love with Jax, but she’s definitely in “like” with him. I just hope she keeps her heart out of this. She grins, “Don’t worry. It was just a good time. No big deal.”

  Right. No big deal. Just like Dylan and me.

  She opens the door, "I'm gonna take a shower. He’ll probably sleep for a while." She winks and leaves my room.

  After she leaves, I dress in a pair of jeans and another t-shirt. I feel guilty for not being able to tell Alex about my night, but I don’t want the lecture or the disappointed looks. I certainly don’t want the looks of sympathy I know I’ll get. Alex isn’t dumb, and I know that she knows I do have some feelings for Dylan. There’s no way she would understand or be okay with what Dylan and I did last night, starting out with lying to her about leaving because of a client. I suddenly feel 17 again.

  In the kitchen, I get ingredients out to make myself a smoothie, forgoing cooking a big breakfast. And this only makes me think of Dylan and his family enjoying breakfast out together. And this only makes me sad. I give myself a mental shake and start throwing stuff in the smoothie maker when Jax walks in wearing nothing but boxers. My face heats at the sight of his body can only be described as, uh, mouthwatering. Tattoos cover every available space of his torso and arms, even up the side of his neck, which I had seen peeks of before under his t-shirts. He’s slightly taller than Dylan and quite a bit more muscular, and that’s saying something about how big he is because Dylan is in no way a small man. And my face just heats more at the memories of just how big Dylan is all over.

  He nods over at me as he sits at the kitchen table, "Morning, you guys have any coffee?"

  I shake my head, "Nope; we don't drink it. I can make you a smoothie," I offer.

  He grimaces, "No thanks. How can you not drink coffee?"

  I join him at the table, "We just don't."

  He shakes his head like he can’t believe his ears, something that both Alex and I, as non-coffee drinkers, are very used to. I narrow my eyes and look at him. I know I’m overstepping my place, but I remember how he overstepped his with me, and I just dive in with the question, "So, are you going to wait for Alex to get out of the shower before you leave or just leave?”

  He looks at me amused, "I'm actually taking her out for breakfast if she wants to go."

  Surprised I look over at him, “Oh, uh…okay. So is this like a date or something?” I should probably stop this line of questions.

  He laughs, "No, I haven't dated someone for ten years."

  I nod and say nothing because I don’t want to sound stupid or immature, but God, I’m nosy, and I’m just dying to know. "Was last night just a….like a one-time thing then?” You know, Brooke, if you’re going to ask grownup questions, then don’t stutter. I think this because Jax looks thoroughly amused at me right now.

  He rolls his eyes at me, and it irritates me. No, I don’t come from the land of random fuck nights, dammit. Okay, I’ve had two, one in high school that I barely remember, other than just all the awkwardness after, and of course, there’s last night with his best friend. Yeah, you could say I’m a novice. But he's been in my business because it involved his best friend, the way I see it, this is my business.

  "I don't know, Brooke. If we want to fuck again, then we will. I don't follow rules except my own. If I want to fuck someone more than once, I do. If I want to stay the night or take someone to breakfast the next morning, I do. I don’t plan for shit except my business and friends."

  I nod because I have absolutely no idea how to respond. I do wonder if he discussed any of this with Alex though because I don’t want him to get her hopes up, and I know from her many past heartbreaks that she always ends up hoping for more until the guy turns out to be a jerk. It sounds to me like Jackson is all about doing whatever he pleases. "Just don't hurt her."

  He leans a little closer to me, "I won't." A part of me believes him. I know that Jax is a good guy. He certainly cares about Dylan and the kids, because he also gave up his life in Oklahoma to come up here to help Dylan and his family. But I’m still a little leery because Alex isn’t family.

  He opens his mouth to say something, and I can tell by the look on his face that it’s going to be something about Dylan and me, but Alex walks in dressed in casual clothes. She sits next to Jax and leans kissing his cheek. "Good morning."

  He turns to her, "Morning darlin’. How would you like to get breakfast with me this morning?�
��

  She nods, "Sure, I could eat after last night.”

  I would love to be able to warn her about being careful, getting her hopes up, guarding her heart, but she’s already up and grabbing her coat. So I stay silent. She’s a big girl, and just like I asked her to trust me, I need to trust her. Jax invites me, but I decline. I’ve decided he and I have had enough interaction today. Being around him makes me think of Dylan, and right now I want to be alone with thoughts of Dylan, you know, just in case, I feel like crying.

  And thinking of Dylan makes me grab my phone and send him a text to let him know I'm home. I sit at the table drinking my smoothie waiting for a response. After 30 minutes, and nothing, I decide to go back to bed to be alone with my bittersweet thoughts of last night and the harsh realities of today.

  By Tuesday afternoon, I’ve worked my nerves into a frenzy at the thought of seeing Dylan again so soon after our night in his bed. There’s been barely enough time to come to terms with everything that happened, and the fact that he didn’t ever reach out even after I sent him the text on Friday after I got home until last night to confirm today’s visit. Like he said, when he walked out of his room what our roles would be again. God, I hate that thought.

  I had changed at the office, not sure if I’m invited to dinner or not, really not sure of anything anymore when it comes to going to his house. I know nothing should change, but it has, and I know this in my heart. I also know I need to set all this aside and start concentrating on the kids. It’s been two weeks since I’ve seen them, and if they need me, then I’m going to be there.

  Butterflies swarm in my stomach as I head to the door. I concentrate on not falling flat on my face as the fresh snow crunches under my feet. Right now I need to be professional, and ending up face planting because I’m worried about seeing Dylan, my client, instead of paying attention and avoiding slick spots would in no way be professional. Of course as soon as he opens the door all thoughts of professionalism are shot to hell. I’m not prepared for this because I still want him. I just have to keep reminding myself, all I am is his social worker now, just like he said before walking out the door.

  I would like to say that it would be easier now, that all the pent up tension between us is gone. We had sex, amazing sex, just like we both wanted and needed. The harsh truth is I can’t believe myself because I can’t get the memories of that night out of my head. They play on repeat, like a favorite song on a playlist, over and over. Unfortunately, this only serves to make me want him more, to relive all those memories out in real life and not just in my thoughts and dreams.

  I ring the doorbell, and Dylan answers the door. Oh shit. He looks so damn good in worn jeans and a long sleeved tee. Nope, just like I thought, zero professionalism going on here. My nipples harden uncomfortably in my lace bra when I look at his lips which only causes me to get wet remembering the other places on my body he used those same lips. I want nothing more than to push him toward his room and let him do all the things he did to me New Year’s Eve and more. I want so much more. At this very moment, there are at least ten deliciously wicked things I want us to be doing to each other.

  He greets me, casually, "Hey, come on in. It’s cold out there."

  I walk in, and I’m immediately dying to touch him, but he seems so calm. And I wonder if he feels anything at all. I would be lying if I said that the thought of him not thinking about us didn't kill me. But judging by his laid-back manner, he must be okay with it just being one time. Of course, he is because we both agreed that’s what it was. The problem is I lost the memo and forgot what it said. It’s like he said, I need to get out of my head and stop over thinking it.

  He takes my coat, and his fingers send electric shocks through my body as they graze my arms. He smiles, "The kids can't wait to see you. They’re all in their usual spots waiting. Go on in while I put your coat away.”

  I nod and head into the living room where I'm greeted enthusiastically with hugs and ‘I missed you’ from Cassie and Gabby. Michael lays his book down and gives me a big smile; I can’t miss how he’s trying to look nonchalant and cool. God, when did he start growing up? I suddenly feel like I’ve been away for months. Luke gives his customary nod accompanied by his shit-eating grin that he has down to perfection. He looks so much like Dylan, more every time I see him. I realize at this moment how much I’ve missed them, and how much I hate that it’ll be another two weeks before I see them again. How sad.

  Dylan finally joins us taking a seat in his big recliner. Again, looking like he doesn’t have a care in the world. I do notice he averts his eyes whenever I look over at him. No doubt wanting to squash any false hope I have as if I’m even in the position to have hope. There’s no need to rub in the fact that he got what he wanted, that we both got what we wanted, but avoiding looking at him.

  Cassie can’t stop talking about how excited she is about school starting back up. Basketball season and cheer are going well of course. Luke is going to start working at the shop after school and Saturday mornings until baseball season picks up, and I take note of the excitement in his voice about this. I look over and smile at Dylan expecting to see excitement on his face, but he’s frowning, which quickly disappears when he turns his head quickly to look out the window at the snow. I don’t even know what to think about that. Gabby comes over to demand my attention by plopping down on my lap to tell me everything new thing about Toby that I’ve missed which momentarily takes my mind off Dylan, sort of anyway. I can’t help but notice that in the last two weeks she’s turned into a talkative little thing, but the rest don’t seem to mind since she went so long not speaking. After about an hour of conversation, me telling them about Florida and them telling me about Oklahoma, they all scatter to different parts of the house to do their thing before dinner.

  Dylan and I are finally alone, nothing different than usual because we always have a visit before I leave, but, this time, is different because now there’s a shared intimacy that can’t be ignored by either of us, no matter how damn hard we try. But I will say so that I don’t make him uncomfortable. For him, I will keep it together.

  At least, I hope I will.

  Chapter 25

  Dylan

  The kids are gone. Now it’s just the two of us. It was hard enough not to grab her when she came through the front door. Now that we’re alone and I can smell her, even from 10 feet away, every part of me wants to drag her to my room, lock her in there, and never let her go. Christ, what am I thinking, never let her go? The hardest thing I’ve ever done is walk away, leaving her in my bed.

  Knowing that she was coming today had me on edge, but I refused to make her uncomfortable in this house and around the kids. But it’s been hard for me, especially my aching cock, to have her sitting in the same space as me and listening to her speak. All my synapses firing just from smelling her damn scent, the same scent I still can’t bring myself to wash off my sheets. I’m a certifiable fucking pervert.

  It’s hard not replaying that night on a loop in my mind. Maybe because there hasn’t been much time to forget the way she tastes, the way she felt, the sounds she made and what she looked like when she came, all five damn times. Each one was more beautiful than the last, and I would have gladly spent hours more making her come again and again. I’m beginning to think I may have fucked up bringing her to my bed because now I lay there unable to clear my mind enough to sleep without remembering what it was like falling asleep with her and waking up with her. I’m fucked.

  The thing that’s bothering me the most is that since she’s walked in, she’s acting totally unaffected. I know we agreed that it’s going to be strictly professional between us, but goddamn, couldn’t she act the least bit….something? Shouldn’t she feel sad or like that night meant something to her to her? She’s carrying on like not a goddamn thing happened and it’s just business as usual. I’m sitting over here as far as I can get from her and about to crawl out of my skin. Fine, if she can be this cool then by God so can I. I h
ave years of pretending I don’t give a shit, especially when it comes to needy chicks. You stupid fuck, you’re the only one here who’s feeling needy.

  "How have you been?" I ask.

  I want her to tell me to drag her to the garage and fuck her crazy. All I get is, “I'm good, work has been crazy, but what else is new?”

  I clear my throat, "And you’re okay after the other night?"

  She instinctively looks around, like she's afraid the kids will hear. "Yes, of course. I’m more than fine. It was wonderful, Dylan.”

  Shouldn’t that make me feel good? She’s fine, not going to go all chick crazy and beg me for more, tell me she loves me, try to get my ring on her finger? Of course not, because it was wonderful, and she’s fine. What the fuck ever. "What about Alex, was she there when you got home?"

  She smiles, "She had no idea that I was even gone. You could say she had a nice distraction, and I’m pretty sure you know what that was.”

  Does she mean Jax? "Was Jackson there?”

  She nods, "Yeah, he didn't tell you?"

  I shake my head, "No, but he’s been in Oklahoma since after New Year’s. Some pissed off client started blowing up his phone and wanted one of the owners. Naturally since I had the kids, he decided to go. He should be home tomorrow, I think.”

  She laughs, "Well then, I must be spreading gossip.”

  I shrug because I don’t ask unless he volunteers. “He may say something about it.”

  "Don’t you guys talk about the girls you sleep with?"

  I laugh. “No, we don’t go into details about who we hook up with. Well unless something sticks out which is usually the chicks who might be hard to shake off. Kind of like a warning to not go there.” She looks concerned, so I add, “I would never go into detail about us, Brooke. What you and I did is not up for any discussion, and he wouldn’t ask.”

  I figured Jax would take Alex to his place; I had no clue he would take her to Brooke’s. It doesn’t seem that he said anything to her, or she wouldn’t be acting okay with it. “He promised me he wouldn’t hurt her.”