I bite my lip. An easy enough drive for what? For me to come home?
“What else do you two have planned this evening?” Mrs. Arnold asks.
I look at Dylan for him to reply because I have no idea. “We’re just going to hang out,” he says. “Watch a movie, play video games, or something.”
It sounds like a tame evening, especially in comparison to how Dylan used to spend his weekends. Dylan and I chat with his mom a while longer and I excuse myself to use the bathroom when I finish eating. Afterwards, I walk back down the long hallway and hear Dylan and his mom talking. When I hear my name mentioned, I slow down.
“Isn’t she dating Paul?” I hear Mrs. Arnold ask.
“He broke up with her not long ago,” Dylan replies.
“That’s too bad,” Mrs. Arnold says.
“I don’t know about that.” Dylan’s voice is an annoyed mumble.
“Debbie didn’t seem to approve of Ash,” Mrs. Arnold says and my stomach clenches. Debbie is Paul’s mom, and I wonder if her disapproval is a reason Paul broke up with me.
“If she didn’t like Ashley, then I’m pretty sure there will never be a girl Paul’s mom will think is good enough for him,” Dylan says.
“That’s true,” Mrs. Arnold says. “It’s a shame she didn’t, because from what you tell me, Ash seems to be the sweetest girl around.” My stomach loosens some at Mrs. Arnold’s comment and I find myself stopping in the hallway to hear the rest of the conversation. I’m not quite sure if it’s more awkward to barge in on them or to stand here in the dark hallway and listen in.
“She really is,” Dylan agrees.
“Are you two…”
“No,” Dylan’s voice butts in quick. “She only wants to be friends.”
“I like her.” Mrs. Arnold sounds happy and I hear the clinking of dishes. “She’s not like those other girls you’ve brought around.”
“Mom.” I hear the scolding in Dylan’s voice.
“You’re a magnet for troublemakers, but…”
I take a deep breath and step into the kitchen, acting as if I didn’t hear a thing they said.
“Ash,” Mrs. Arnold says when I enter. “How did a nice girl like you become friends with my troublesome son?” Mrs. Arnold smiles at Dylan and I know she’s only poking him in a way a mom can get away with.
“Andrea,” I answer. “If it weren’t for her, we’d never have spoken to each other.”
Dylan eyes me. “I don’t know about that.”
I stare right back at him. “I think you do.”
Part of me shouts at myself to tell Mrs. Arnold about the blackmail scheme, but another part of me tells the bitter side to shut up. It’s Dylan’s family and he’s the one who can handle it. Plus, he apologized.
Mrs. Arnold eyes us both, like she’s trying to decipher our unspoken conversation. “Andrea’s always been meddlesome, and perhaps this time it worked out,” she says.
I’d groan, but it doesn’t seem the appropriate thing to do right now. Andrea’s more than meddlesome, but the outcome has been friendship between Dylan and me, and it never would have happened if it weren’t for Andrea.
“I’m headed to bed,” Mrs. Arnold says. She wraps me in another side embrace, and it reminds me of the hugs from my mom. “And don’t be a stranger. You’re welcome here anytime.”
“Thank you,” I say.
“And thank you,” Mrs. Arnold whispers in my ear. “I appreciate what you’ve done for Dylan and how he’s changed.”
Dylan’s at the sink cleaning up, but I know his attention hasn’t left us and I glance at him. He pushes a strand of curls out of his eyes.
“I think he’s changed on his own,” I say.
“I only know he gets in trouble a lot less now, and I think you have something to do with it.” She winks at me before she releases me and then heads off to the back of the house.
I slap my hands on the island and look at Dylan on the other side. “What does she know?”
Dylan shrugs. “I’ve never said a thing. She asked me not long ago if I dated you. She wasn’t happy she didn’t know.”
“Ah, yes.” I remember meeting Mrs. Arnold when I was at Paul’s house. “She found out from Paul’s mom, who found out from Bridgette when she mentioned the rumor about you getting me pregnant.”
“I don’t think I like Bridgette,” Dylan says. “I don’t think I ever have.”
“She’s not high on my list of people, but I like your mom. Why didn’t you introduce us earlier?”
“She wasn’t around much then,” Dylan says and looks away from me.
“And what was the point of introducing us if you were only fake dating me and going to break up with me?” I narrow my eyes at Dylan.
“Ashley.” Dylan huffs my name and walks my way. “I would have introduced you to my parents, but you broke up with me.”
“It was about time a girl dumped you.” I poke Dylan in the chest with a finger in a teasing manner. “I was only helping to deflate your ego a bit.”
Dylan grins, happy to see I’m joking with him again. “That reminds me I should thank Andrea for blackmailing me.”
“Because you wouldn’t be the bet winner if she didn’t.” I mean for it to be a joke, but after I say it, the truth of it hits me. I’m here because Paul broke up with me. The smile on my face slides down like a melted popsicle off a stick.
“Because I wouldn’t have such a good friend to keep me company and watch a movie with me,” Dylan says. He’s quick to swoop in and save me from my emotions. “Let’s go downstairs and watch something.”
I follow Dylan to the massive basement rec room. I’ve been here more than once and in a couple of different situations. Dylan sits in the middle of the large sectional in front of the TV, and I hesitate for a moment, not sure where I should sit. I can’t sit and cuddle up next to Dylan’s chest, like I once did, and it feels just as strange to sit at the farthest reach of the couch from him. I finally plunk down near him, leaving about a foot of space between us.
“What’re we watching?” I ask.
Dylan aims the remote at the TV. “Are you going to fall asleep even though you’re not swimming?”
I’m notorious for falling asleep during movies, especially during swim season. I fell asleep on Dylan more than once. “We’ll see,” I say.
“How about this one?”
I look at the TV screen where Dylan has pulled up a movie and my mouth goes dry. Out of all the movies there are in the world, he has to pick this one. Why this one? And why now? I stare at The Princess Bride on the screen and the familiar sting of tears hits the back of my eyes and nose. This was the movie Paul and I watched together, the movie lines we spoke to each other, the movie I’ll only associate with him.
“Can we?” I clear my throat. “Can we play a video game or something? I don’t feel like a movie right now.”
Dylan’s lips twist and he aims the remote at the TV. “As you wish.”
He speaks the three words which are like an arrow to my heart, and my floodgates open again.
THIRTEEN
“Why are we here?” I ask when Dylan walks through the parking lot of the local diner with me. He let me cry into his chest at his house earlier. I agreed to go out for dessert because I feel guilty over ruining what’s supposed to be his big win night.
“We’re here because they have your favorite pie tonight,” Dylan says, holding the door open for me. “You might as well drown your sorrows in some chocolate coconut cream pie.”
“I must look awful.” All the time Nora spent doing my hair and makeup, and I’ve ruined it with another bout of crying. I looked like a racoon earlier and had to wipe off drippy mascara before we left Dylan’s house.
Dylan’s eyes rove over me. “You look fine. More like yourself.”
“Great,” I say sarcasti
cally. “Red, swollen eyes and a blotchy face.”
“Isn’t that how we look after swimming for hours?” Dylan grins and his comment about swimmers reminds me of something.
“I have to text Taylor. We’ll assume she’s going home now,” I say. Phantom Taylor had a fun time playing video games at Dylan’s, while I was sniffling into Dylan’s shirt.
I send a text to Taylor when the waiter places my pie in front of me. The slice is large, and while it tastes good, it does nothing to mask the pain I’m feeling. Dylan’s trying to cheer me up, and that makes it hurt even more. I’m only out with him because he bet Paul and I would break up.
“Do I need to coat myself in chocolate for you?” Dylan does his smoldering look. It’s the look that makes most girls swoon and the one that makes me laugh because it’s so ridiculous. The edges of my mouth turn up, but I don’t quite smile. I poke the pie with my fork in a lazy motion.
“There’s not enough chocolate,” I say and lift my head from the plate. Dylan and I sit across from each other in a small booth and I have a clear view of the front door. Someone I know very well walks through. The fork drops from my hand and clatters on the hard surface. My body becomes like a wet noodle and I slink under the tabletop to the floor. It’s rather small under here and I’m not even sure if I’m hidden well. I didn’t think this through. It’s a tight squeeze under the small table and I’m pressed up against Dylan’s legs.
Dylan peers under the table and moves his knees apart so he can look at me. His eyebrows rise on his forehead. “And just what are you doing down there?”
My heart starts to race and fear courses through me. I don’t want to be seen. I smack Dylan’s leg. “He’s coming this way. You need to hide me,” I whisper in a harsh voice. “Just don’t say I’m here. Please.”
Dylan glances over his shoulder before he looks back at me. “You’re going to owe me.”
Dylan positions his leg to hide me as best he can and looks away. I twist my head and spot a pair of familiar shoes walk by. If he’s eating here, how long am I going to have to stay under the table? Dylan wiggles his legs around, clearly trying to annoy me. I wrap my hands around his shins and squeeze his muscular calves. I guess it tickles him, because I hear a snort, and he tries to kick me. Dylan stops moving and I hear a familiar voice.
“Hey.” It’s Paul. I see his jean covered shins and his shoes. His toes are only feet from me.
“Turner.” I hear Dylan say Paul’s last name, and he draws it out as if it’s poison.
“You here with someone?” Paul asks. He must notice my plate of food.
“Oh, um, yeah.” Dylan falters for only half a second and picks back up. “Sabrina’s in the restroom.”
“Nice,” Paul says. “Ash mentioned you guys broke up.”
I grip Dylan’s leg tight, trying to convey messages to him through my harsh touch. “We, uh, did,” Dylan says while I squeeze harder. “But we’re back together. How are things with Ash?”
I sharply pinch Dylan’s leg and I can tell he’s restraining from kicking me. He never calls me Ash, like everyone else, and he knows how things are with me. The jerk. He’s going to wreck my cover. Paul knows I spent last Friday with Dylan and phantom Taylor.
“Um,” Paul falters now. “She didn’t tell you?” My heart skips a beat, hoping Paul regrets his actions. “We broke up.”
I grit my teeth.
We. We broke up. Where is the we coming from? There was no we in our breakup. He broke up with me. He.
“Oh, man,” Dylan says. “I’m sorry to hear that.” He sounds sympathetic, but I bet he’s delighting in this. I grip his thigh tight now, squeezing my thumb into his muscular leg. I hope this pinch isn’t delightful.
“It’s alright,” Paul says. “It’s for the best.”
I want to scream. I’m half tempted to come out from under the table and confront Paul. For the best? How is breaking up with me for the best? How would he feel to see me here with Dylan? I grab the table leg, ready to move aside and show myself, but then I think better of it. Paul hates Dylan. If he sees me here, on a date with Dylan, Paul will never give me another chance.
“Tell Sabrina I said hi,” Paul says.
“Will do,” Dylan replies, and the guys say their good-byes. I remain where I am, frozen in place out of fear, misery, resentfulness…I don’t even know the range of feelings I’m experiencing. Dylan places his hand on mine and peers under the table. “I mean, if you want to sit there all night gripping my thigh with your head between my legs, I’m not going to complain, but it’s safe to come out now. He’s gone.”
My eyes widen. I grip Dylan a little more intimately than I should be, and I remove my hands. I narrow my eyes when he grins down at me, the grin that shows his dimple. I smack his shin and shimmy my way back up to the seat.
I smooth my hair down and Dylan leans forward, placing his forearms on the table. His dimple is deeper than ever. “I think you owe me another date,” he says.
“You’re kidding,” I say, though I know he isn’t. I wish he were kidding.
“Your ex-boyfriend lying to your ex-boyfriend sure means your ex-boyfriend gets another date.”
Never ever in my life would I have expected to hear ex-boyfriend that many times in a sentence, and all referring to me. I’m not a multiple ex-boyfriend type of girl.
“You were never my boyfriend,” I say.
Dylan looks at me, his eyes twinkling under the overhead lights. “I think we’ve already had this conversation in the past.” He settles back in the seat. “And you still owe me.”
“Fine.” I pick up the fork and stab it in my dessert. “One more outing. Then we’re even and never ever making another bet.”
“Wanna bet?” Dylan smirks. I ought to throw my fork at him, but I use it to try and hide the small smile coming to my face. “There.” Dylan grins. “That’s what I like to see. You still have a smile in you.”
I roll my eyes and shake my head. “That wasn’t a smile. It was more a grimace.”
“You wanna talk about it?” Dylan asks.
“About what?” I stab the fork into my pie again. I know what he’s talking about and there’s nothing I want to say. Well, maybe there is stuff I want to say, but not to Dylan. I want Paul to talk to me.
“Just tell me what you’re feeling, what’s going on.”
I smear my fork around the plate. I’ve cried enough about it, maybe it’s time to try talking. “Everything he said, it’s all wrong. I didn’t break up with him and it wasn’t for the best.” I look up from the pie and meet Dylan’s gaze. He’s completely focused on me, his eyes a pool of sympathy. Is a shred of the emotions running through me the same as what he felt when I broke up with him? “Anyways, he broke up with me and never gave me a reason.” Dylan’s lips pinch together and mine mirror his. “I at least gave you a reason.” A tear forms in the corner of my eye and rolls down next to my nose.
Dylan reaches across the table and runs his thumb gently from my nose across my cheek to wipe up the tear. His touch is warm, and I nearly lean into it, but only for the comfort he’s providing my broken heart. He once broke it too.
“I’m sorry, Ashley,” Dylan says softly. His fingers linger on my cheek.
“Yeah, well.” I reach up and wipe my face with the back of my hand, pushing Dylan’s out of the way. “Not much you can do about it.”
“I wish I could do something,” Dylan says and settles back into his seat. His expression is soft and full of compassion.
“Can you get Paul back for me?”
FOURTEEN
When I look at the diner door again, I know the people walking in and I groan. “Did you tell them we’re here?”
Dylan peers around the seat and smiles. “What a coincidence.”
“Hi, Ash,” Nora says when she gets to the table, a huge smile on her face and the curls on her
head bouncing with her excitement. “Fancy meeting you here. How’s the date?”
“We could probably use some company,” Dylan says, eying my tear stained face.
I narrow my eyes. Was this the plan? They come in and see if one of us needs rescuing? I grab my plate and slide over in the tiny booth. “They can’t sit on the same side because they’re disgustingly sweet as a couple and I can’t take that tonight,” I say.
Nora stands next to her tall boyfriend. His large dark hand is clasped around her tiny fair one. They’re a cute couple, and I’m happy for Nora. It’s just hard to see their sweetness when I feel so glum.
Nora slips in next to me and bumps me with her shoulder. “How’s it going?”
“Paul was here,” I whisper.
Nora’s bright eyes widen, and she looks across the table at Dylan for confirmation. Dylan only nods and moves over for Nick to join him. Nora smacks her lips, much like when she puts on her favorite lip gloss. “That must have been interesting.”
I sigh and put a forkful of pie in my mouth. It doesn’t take long for Dylan to give the answer I expect him to.
“Very,” he says. “It was quite pleasurable for me.”
I try to kick him under the table, and he only smiles at me. It’s the infuriating smile that makes his dimple come out. His stupid dimple I used to love to run my finger over.
“And…” Dylan winks at me. “You all can be my witness I helped Ashley hide from him and now she owes me another date to make up for it.”
“Really?” Nora’s hair whips me when she turns her body my direction. She’s a little too enthusiastic for my taste. Whose side is she on anyways? “We could double.”
She looks to Nick for confirmation. Nick glances at Dylan who gives a tiny head shake.
“I’m not blind,” I say. “I can see all your head shakes and eye glances and silent talking.” I point my finger between them. “And let me answer. Dylan doesn’t want to double. He’d rather deal with miserable me all on his own. Unless he needs to call you in for backup, like tonight. And yes, I owe him because I make ridiculous bets with him and lose. And it’s not a date. We’re friends.”
Cycling Downhill: A Sweet Young Adult Romance (Love is a Triathlon Book 3) Page 7