Think Twice

by Stephanie Rose

  Dylan rose from his seat and the bar and stepped in front of me. As much as I wanted to avoid his gaze, my eyes were magnets to his. I let out a sigh as I took him in. The smooth planes of his jaw, his full lips, the soulful eyes that seemed bottomless, tormented me as usual. But this time, instead of getting lost in his masculine beauty, I wanted to rip him apart. He didn’t want me. I was nothing but a kid to him, as per the rejection speech he’d given me that played over and over in my head at my lowest moments.

  “You’re Jack’s little sister. I can’t think of you any other way.”

  “I care, Patricia. Believe me.” My breath stilled in my lungs as he grabbed my face. “I care too much. Always did.” His thumbs drifted back and forth over my cheekbones, making my heart beat so fast and loud, it pulsed in my ears. “I can’t do it anymore. I can’t just watch you.”

  My insides liquified when he called me Patricia, but I swiped his hands off my face.

  “Hey, I was wondering what happened to you.” I jumped at Liam’s voice behind me.

  He looked between Dylan and me, his smile fading when he met Dylan’s furious scowl.

  “I wouldn’t have kissed you if I knew you had a—”

  “I don’t, and he’s not. He’s my brother’s friend. Stay,” I pleaded.

  “See you later, PJ.” Liam gave my arm a squeeze before trudging away.

  My hands balled into fists at my sides before I stormed out to the parking lot, ignoring Riley screaming at me to come back inside. Liam thought Dylan was a jealous boyfriend and probably thought I was a jerk for leading him on.

  “PJ, stop!” Dylan grabbed my arm and pulled me back.

  “Let me tell you something, Matthews.” I poked my finger into his chest. “I don’t need your protection or anyone else’s. You barely say hello to me, and yet felt you had the right to step in like some … big brother. Go back to staying away from me; it works better for the both of us.”

  “He had his hands on you,” Dylan repeated, his nostrils flaring as he inched closer.

  “Again, we were dancing!” My voice shook with rage and frustration.

  “He kissed you.” His mouth turned down in a disgusted scowl.

  “So? I can’t believe I’m still explaining myself to you.” I coughed out a hysterical laugh before I glowered at him, my mind scrambling as I tried to figure out at what point tonight had I stepped into an alternate universe. “I already have a big brother and an even bigger father. Besides, I’m like your little sister.” God, those words were rancid in my mouth. “Remember? You can’t see me any other—”

  Dylan’s hand fisted in my hair as he covered my mouth with his. I stiffened, a shaky mix of shock and anger, when he again cradled my face in both his hands, this time tender and sweet instead of desperate. His tongue laved over my bottom lip, causing a gooey shiver to drip down my body and pool between my legs. My traitorous mouth opened with a groan to let him in. Why did he have to kiss like this? With purpose, demanding everything—and I let him have it. All of it. Teeth scraped, tongues tangled, and my lips were already raw from the bristles of stubble around his soft mouth. My hands drifted along his hard torso before meeting at his neck. Dylan grabbed my hips, pressing his growing hardness against my needy core.

  What the hell was I doing? After what he’d just done? After all these years of chasing him like a puppy, he’d come for me only when I’d finally stopped.

  I sobered, breaking our kiss and slapping his cheek with a loud smack that echoed in the silence.

  “Fuck you!” I yelled before turning on my heel and running as fast as I could.

  Fuck him for ruining my night, and double fuck him for ruining every kiss with anyone else for the rest of my life.

  “PJ, wait!” Dylan yelled from behind me, his footfalls keeping the same swift pace as mine. He caught up with me and blocked my escape path. My breaths came quick as he pulled my body flush to his.

  “If I’d…acted on this before today,” he panted as his eyes bore into mine. His cheek was red, but he didn’t seem to notice or care. “You know what would have happened. Jack, your parents—”

  “My mother knows how I feel about you. Jack and my dad—”

  “They’ll kill me.” He lifted a brow as his hand feathered down my cheek. “Hell, if I was in their position, I’d kill me, too.” His lips pulled into a wry smile. “And I tried, I really did only come here tonight to make sure you were okay. But I can’t pretend anymore.” His index finger traced along my lip. “I can’t watch another guy kiss you.”

  He covered my mouth with his, claiming me with his lips and his tongue, and instead of fighting the bastard, I let him. Another whimper escaped me as I slumped against him.

  He tore his lips from mine and grabbed my hand, pulling me to the back of the parking lot. I followed, mindless and trembling with a cascade of emotion so intense I couldn’t see straight. The right thing to do would have been to kick him in the balls and race back inside and try to salvage the rest of the night with my friends.

  My goal was to move on, to finally get this painful monkey off of my back. But after finally getting the kisses I’d waited a lifetime for, there was no way I wouldn’t have followed Dylan anywhere at that moment.

  6

  PJ

  Of all the ways I’d imagined how tonight would go, I never thought I’d end up here; with Dylan, his lips and his hands all over me. Every time I resolved to stop this insanity and jump out of his truck, I fell deeper into his kiss. My weakness pissed me off, but it was difficult to storm away from the only place I’d ever wanted to be.

  “I can’t stop kissing you,” he murmured against my lips before lifting me over the console and onto his lap.

  “Dylan,” I panted, realizing screwing my head back on straight wasn’t happening as long as Dylan was touching me.

  “Shh …” He put his finger on my lips before trailing it down my chest, flirting with the neckline of my off-the-shoulder blouse. I’d worn the skinny jeans Riley suggested and sky-high heels as per usual. At my pint size, I needed height help to look normal-sized humans in the eye. My breath hitched as his hand slid down my leg and traced the strap around my ankle. “You’re so damn beautiful.” His head jerked to the club while he kept his eyes fixed on me.

  The pure lust in his eyes sucked the air right out of my lungs. When Liam said those words to me not even twenty minutes ago, I was flattered yet uncomfortable. There was no chill of goosebumps down my spine or need to still my quivering hands. As furious as I was at Dylan tonight, hearing him call me beautiful in a guttural whisper made my head spin.

  “No one could take their eyes off of you, including that tool you were dancing with.”

  “He’s not a tool,” I sighed. “Plus, you only saw him for a few minutes so—”

  “I’ve been here for over an hour,” he whispered as his gaze landed back on my lips.

  I rolled my eyes and pushed off of him. “I don’t need protection. I may not be able to drink yet, but in the eyes of New York State, I’m an adult. I can vote, buy a lottery ticket, everything. You didn’t need to hide in the shadows. ”

  His hand slid to the back of my neck, the tiny hairs sticking straight up from both his touch and the feral gleam in his eyes.

  “Maybe not. But when I thought of all those guys leering at you tonight, I turned into an …”

  “Asshole?” I cocked my head to the side, and Dylan laughed.

  “Yeah,” he whispered against my lips as my jaw quivered. This had to be a dream. I probably had ten minutes before my alarm went off, and I had to wake up. I couldn’t be draped on top of Dylan, his eyes searing into me with a hunger I felt down to my toes. He leaned in as if he was going to kiss me again, but his lips grazed the corner of my mouth before making a trail down my neck and across my chest over the neckline of my blouse. My hips bucked of their own accord, writhing on his lap as he nipped lower.

  “But,” I croaked out before I pulled back again. “You’ve barely spoken
a word to me since …” I looked away, the humiliation still fresh and raw whenever I’d allow myself to think about it. “You … we aren’t even friends anymore. And I understand why. Hurts like a bitch but nothing I didn’t expect. Now, you barge in tonight and ruin my birthday because—”

  “Because I’ve wanted you so much for so long, I didn’t trust myself around you. But when I saw him kiss you,” his jaw tightened as he tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear, “and how gorgeous you looked tonight.” A shiver of goosebumps trailed down my back when his hand slid to the nape of my neck. “I knew if I didn’t step in now, and finally admit what you mean to me, what you’ve always meant to me—” An audible sigh fell from his lips. “I knew this was when I’d start to lose you.” He kissed the corner of my mouth and lifted his glossy eyes back to mine. “Unless I already have. Do you still want me?”

  My breath hitched from not only the heat in his gaze, but the longing. I’d become all too accustomed to how unrequited love felt, but never gave much thought to how it looked. I studied Dylan’s tense jaw, the uncertain bite of his lip as his hazel eyes offered a wordless plea. I ran out into the parking lot with the intention of telling him to fuck off, but after that declaration, I was putty in his lap as our lips came together in another sloppy, urgent kiss.

  My panties were soaked through to my jeans, this unexpected reality better than any fantasy.

  “Can I touch you?” Dylan’s voice dipped to a husky rasp. My response was a wordless but desperate nod before I unbuttoned my jeans, the heavy silence falling over us interrupted by the whir of a zipper. He slid his hand inside, drifting it back and forth over my swollen clit, as I’d done in my bedroom so many lonely nights before, wondering what his fingers would feel like. Now, I knew and, like his kisses, they ruined me.

  “Dylan…” I groaned, my hips following his fingers as his other hand cupped my neck and brought my lips back to his.

  “Come for me, sweet girl,” he whispered as tremors started between my legs and exploded across the lower half of my body. I cried out in both pleasure and pain. It was all so good, but I already felt the loss of him about to take it away. I now knew what Dylan tasted like, how his lips felt when they moved against mine. He made me come for goodness sake. Him, not my unhealthy almost nightly fantasy of him. How would I come back from this? Yes, he said he wanted me, but two weeks ago he could barely glance in my direction. It all seemed too good to be true.

  Dylan brought me into his hard chest. I cuddled into the broad and strong definition I’d dreamed about ever since I’d first watched him play football in our yard with my brother.

  “When are you going to tell Jack?” I asked, my voice small, scared to death he was going to take it all back and say I had to be his dirty little secret.

  “We’ll tell him together.”

  My head jerked up. “Really?”

  “Yeah.” He grinned as his fingers threaded into my hair. “I was thinking of heading up to the rehab place to visit tomorrow; you could come with me. Or we could tell your dad first.” He gave a nonchalant shrug. “Then, he can break my leg and I’ll end up in rehab with Jack anyway.”

  I laughed and buried my head into his neck. “So, you aren’t going to take it back?”

  “You mean give you back? Never.” He cinched his arms around me, and I breathed him in, still not convinced any of this could be real.

  “Not anymore.”

  7

  Jack

  Growing up, I was the opposite of a sports kid. Dylan and I would toss a football in my yard once in a while, but that had been the extent of my physical activity. Dylan ran track in high school, but since I hated running more than I hated our one season of T-Ball, I’d passed.

  I’d always wanted to be a firefighter, but I hadn’t fully committed until my senior year of high school. To everyone’s shock, I became a gym rat. I snuck there every spare moment I’d had, even buying weights for our basement so I could lift at home. My family marveled at how, despite my lifetime aversion to exercise, I never stood still. I was compelled to always be doing something to gain strength and endurance. My goal was to ensure I was in the best shape I could be in preparation for the day I’d slip on the turnout gear and onto the truck.

  Now, as I waited for my session with Danielle to start, lifting my leg for three sets of ten reps on the table was so damn difficult, I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry like a baby. I’d only been at the facility a couple of days, and my leg was recovering from multiple injuries and healing from several surgeries. I stood more easily and could work the crutches much better, but I wasn’t able to walk yet. Keeping an optimistic attitude and not falling into a crippling pity spiral was the most exhausting exercise of all.

  “It pleases me when my patients do extra credit,” Danielle noted from behind me. My eyes had clenched shut from the overexertion of lifting my leg a whole five inches, and I hadn’t realized she’d come into the room.

  I turned my head to give her a weak smile. “You did say therapy didn’t end with our sessions.”

  She clutched her chest with a gasp. “You actually listened to me.” Her mouth tipped up into a smirk before she gingerly lifted my leg. “Another anomaly.”

  I forced another smile but didn’t meet her gaze. As my dad said, I was still here. He’d called it a blessing. But each time I attempted to move a leg that didn’t work anymore, cursed ran through my mind instead.

  “Lift. Give me ten.” Her hand stretched out a good foot above the table, and I loathed how daunting that felt. I used to eat burpees for breakfast and had won so many bets on wall sits and planks at the firehouse, it hadn’t even been a challenge. Now, every goddamn thing was a challenge. Being grateful was difficult while I was so pissed off I could barely see straight.

  Yes, I wasn’t dead, but what life did I have, or would I have? My breaths came short as I fought against the angry tears threatening to spill down my cheeks. The frustration was enough to bear without adding humiliation to it.

  “That’s too high,” I muttered through gritted teeth. “I can’t. Not yet.” Or maybe ever.

  “Lift,” Danielle repeated, ignoring all of what I’d said. “And give me ten.”

  I took a sharp breath through my nose, my hands balling into fists at my sides.

  Danielle dropped her hand and came closer until her face hovered over mine.

  “I know it’s hard. And it’s only going to get harder. But the only one who can help you is you. I’m all in, but for any of this to work, you need to be, too. Take the anger and the resentment you feel right now and channel it into energy. Come back better and stronger. I have every faith that you can. But sulking isn’t getting you back on that truck. Are you pissed off you’re here?”

  “Fuck, yes,” I growled and peered up at her raised brow.

  “Good. Use that to get out of here. Take it out on me if you’d like. I’m tough, and so are you. So, now that your little moment is over, are you ready to work?”

  Her tough little scowl almost made me laugh. “Ten?”

  “To start, ten. Three sets.” She walked back to the edge of the table and once again, extended her hand. “Go.”

  I raised my leg, still struggling against the stiffness but surprised by the absence of blinding pain. It inched up for what seemed like forever until the top of my foot hit Danielle’s palm.

  “Yes! That’s it, Jack. Make leg raises your bitch.”

  I burst out laughing. Since the accident, that had happened maybe twice, counting now.

  “My bitch? Since when does sweet Dani Marsh curse?” I grunted as my foot met with her palm a second time.

  “Since she became the badass therapist who’s going to get you back on your feet. Keep going.” Her voice was stern despite the wide smile spreading her cheeks—the wide, fucking-gorgeous smile. I shook my head, and with my eyes closed, gave Danielle three sets of ten plus one more.

  I was far from back, but I’d get there. For the first time since I’d arrive
d, it seemed like a real possibility. My body slumped against the table with a tired satisfaction after we were done.

  “Not bad, Jack.” Danielle wrapped a hot cloth around my leg at the end of our session. Sweat poured off me as if I’d run five miles. It sucked how such a small exercise was that taxing, but it was great to feel like I’d done something. Exhaustion from overexertion beat the hell out of depression.

  “I don’t want to be the pathetic jerk who feels sorry for myself all the time. My family already gave me a talking to about being an asshole.”

  She clicked her teeth with her tongue, and my battered but sadly deprived body found that sexy as hell. “That’s everyone when they walk through these doors. That frustration can be a good tool if you use it the right way.”

  “Then, it’s not just me you complain about to your friends at night?” I rolled up to sitting and gave Danielle a sly grin.

  The smile faded from her face before she shrugged. “I work late most nights, so I don’t get a chance to complain about my grumpy patients too much. Plus, HIPAA laws prevent us from going into any good detail.” She placed the crutches next to the table but kept her eyes on the floor.

  “Most nights? Why?”

  For the first time since we’d met again, she seemed on edge, scribbling on my chart as if she was stabbing it with the pen.

  “Lots of patients, lots of notes.”

  I wanted to ask if she was seeing someone, but I was sure that broke a patient/therapist boundary. Plus, judging by her jerky movements ever since I brought up what she did after work, I would guess the answer was no.

  “It’s a perfect June day; you should head outside for a while.” She came over to the door and held it open.

  “Alone?” Therapy and the common area next to it were the only places I’d been other than my room. Anywhere farther than that, I’d need the wheelchair, and that was a hard pass.