As we drove home, the sun just setting in the sky, I thought about Jake. The look on his face had seemed so strange. And Mrs. Hunter had been oddly emotional as well.
Dylan, his eyes focused on the road, acted like he hadn’t even noticed. I studied him, his chiseled profile, his strong jaw. Physically, we’d gotten closer. Much closer. But going home with him may not have been the wisest decision. Without realizing it, I’d been watching him through his family’s eyes, perhaps even feeling a sort of carryover of their emotions. They loved Dylan so much. It was hard to imagine I might not love him, too.
I wanted to bang my head on the dashboard. I couldn’t understand when this had become so complicated. I’d gone into it hoping for a fling before I went to Japan, but now I felt so unsure. Part of me wanted to jump into the deep end and just let myself fall for Dylan, but another part held back. That was the part that couldn’t see what was in the water and worried about getting hurt.
Dylan reached for my hand, humming along to a song on the radio. “My parents loved you. Jake, too.”
“They’re great. Some of the nicest people I’ve ever met.”
He smiled, his face radiating pure joy. “I knew you’d like them. So do you think Thanksgiving would work out?”
I let go of his hand. “That’s almost two months away.”
He shrugged. “It’ll be here before you know it.”
I chewed on my lip. “My parents will want me to come home. They’d be really upset if I didn’t make it.”
“Well, maybe we can do half and half. I’ll come to your house, and you come to mine.”
I shrugged, but didn’t say anything. We drove for a few minutes in silence, and I watched as his hands clenched the wheel and his jaw tightened.
“You don’t want me to come home with you.”
I sighed. “It’s not that, Dylan. Thanksgiving has always been family time. Just family. They look forward to it all year, especially since I left for college, and this year is even more important since I’ll be going to Japan soon. I’m sure they’d be okay with it, but why worry about it now? September isn’t even over yet.”
“You don’t think we’ll still be together at Thanksgiving?”
He frowned, his eyes locked on the road. The needle on the speedometer moved steadily upward and it began to frighten me. I turned in my seat and touched his arm to calm him down.
“That isn’t it. At all. I’ve just had a lot on my mind lately.”
He wasn’t slowing down. “Like what? Max?”
My cheeks grew hot. No way could he have known about the jealous thoughts I’d had toward Bethany. I hadn’t shared those with anyone. He’d just taken a stab in the dark and accidentally hit something.
“Dylan. You need to slow down. Now. Then we’ll talk.”
His gaze flew to the speedometer and he immediately eased his foot off the accelerator. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize…”
I held up a hand to stop him. “It’s okay, but you need to stop flying off the handle and assuming everything has to do with you.”
He shot me a glance. “If it isn’t about me, what’s it about?”
I leaned back in my seat. We returned to a safe speed as he got his emotions back under control.
“Something happened last week. At the Sig house.”
“You said you weren’t there.” His voice was tight. Controlled. Angry.
“I wasn’t, but Bethany and Gabriela were.”
“I didn’t see them at the party. Not once.”
His tone was a little more hostile than I appreciated, but at least he wasn’t freaking out anymore. I took a deep breath.
“They were there, Dylan. I wanted to talk with you about it before, but I couldn’t. I had to make sure it was okay first.” I took a shaky breath. This was more difficult than I’d expected. “Zach put something in their drinks.”
Dylan grimaced. “Are you sure?”
“They both had blood tests. Zach gave them the drinks. I’m sure.”
He shook his head. “I can’t believe he’d do that.”
“It gets much worse.” I took a deep breath. “He raped Gabriela.”
Dylan got very still. “Has she gone to the police?”
I stared at him. “The normal response would have been to ask if she’s okay. Why would you ask about the police?”
He shot me a look. “I didn’t know there was a standard response to news that your best friend raped someone.”
I felt a little ill. “Your best friend?”
“He was. We used to be very close, but things changed last year.” His eyes were locked on the road, his jaw tense.
Last year. When Dylan didn’t come back to school.
“Is Gabriela okay?”
His softly spoken question pulled me from my thoughts. His tone had changed, his dark eyes filled with sadness.
“She was a virgin.”
He slammed his hand against the steering wheel, making me jump. It took him a solid minute before he could speak.
“It’s just not fair.” I nodded, thinking he was talking about what happened to Gabriela, but then he continued. “Just when things were going so well for us, something like this happens. Please don’t let this influence how you feel about me, Sam.”
I stared at him, chilled inside, but didn’t respond. I had no idea what to say.
When we pulled up to the Theta house, we sat inside his dark car. He reached for my hand, and stroked it, kissing the palm.
“Sometimes I say the wrong things, Sam. I’m sorry.”
I turned to look at him, his face only inches from mine. “We all do.”
He pushed my hair behind my ear and cupped my face with his hand. “It seems like it’s when it matters most that I screw up. You matter most. I mean it. But the harder I try…”
I leaned forward and kissed him. “It’s okay. I get it.”
He touched his forehead with mine. “Can I come up to your room?”
I nodded, thinking it easier just to do what he wanted. I wasn’t in the mood for another fight, or more pouting.
Dylan gave me a grateful smile, and ran around the car to open the door for me. He got my bag out of the trunk and locked it.
We walked into the Theta house hand in hand. Most of the girls had already gone out for the night, so it appeared deserted. Saturday nights were usually quiet. It only got loud when everyone came back home.
Dylan looked around my room, browsing through my bookshelf and picking up the photos on my vanity.
“It’s very…pink,” I said apologetically. My mom and I had picked out the colors last year to coordinate with what Gabriela had chosen. She loved pink. I liked it last year, but it seemed a little too girly and childish this year. I hoped Mom would get me new bedding for Christmas. I’d hinted at it several times.
He laughed, coming over to slide his arms around my waist. “It’s perfect. Like you.”
He held me close, his cheek resting on the top of my head. I lifted my arms around his neck, leaning on him and just breathing him in. He smelled like expensive cologne, wool, and soap.
He sat on the bed, and I sat on his lap, facing him. He stared at my face, his finger tracing my nose, the line of my jaw, and my lips. He studied me, like he wanted to memorize every detail.
“Sweet like honey Sam.” His voice was rough, husky. “What are you doing to me?”
I kissed his cheek, and then put my mouth against his ear. “I know what I’d like to do to you.”
He chuckled. “Why don’t you show me?”
This time, I took the lead. We undressed quickly, and then I climbed on top of him, kissing him as my hair fell around us like a curtain. His hands were on my hips, gripping me, and I rubbed against him, enjoying the sound he made deep in his throat.
“If you really want to be in charge, why don’t you tie me up?”
I stared at him. “With what?”
He nodded at the scarves hanging on the door to my closet. I grabbed a long one
and tied his hands above his head, attaching the scarf to the slats in my headboard.
“Oh, baby. This is awesome.” His eyes turned even darker with passion and he arched against me. He’d called me kinky once, and he may have been right. It also appeared he had a little secret. Dylan Hunter liked being tied up.
“You’ve been a very bad boy. You need to be punished.”
He groaned, wriggling against me. “You’re already punishing me. I want you so much.”
I leaned down and kissed him, savoring every moment. I felt his heart pounding against my hand. I sucked on his lower lip, gently nibbling it, before kissing my way over to his ear. I nibbled on that, too, until Dylan’s breathing became ragged.
“Sam. I’ll die if I’m not inside you soon.”
I licked the curve of his ear. “We wouldn’t want that to happen.”
I lowered myself slowly onto him, inch by delicious inch. Soon, we moved together in a perfect rhythm, his hands straining against the scarf. My knees were on the bed, and I moved up and down, losing myself in the feeling of having him inside me. I also liked the feeling of being in control. For once.
We came together, in a sudden and almost violent way. When I wrapped my arms around Dylan, I realized I no longer knew where I ended and he began. I felt like if I let go, even a little, both of us would fall.
Afterward, he looked up at me as I untied the scarf, his voice shaking with emotion. “No matter what happens in the future, no matter where this takes us, I’m happy right now.”
His words sent a chill into my heart. I wanted him to be happy, always, but I couldn’t promise him a future. I couldn’t promise him anything. Instead, I just kissed him goodnight, and held him close as he fell asleep in my arms, both of us naked and spent, his dark head resting on my chest.
Much later, long after the moon had risen in the sky and my sorority sisters stumbled home, giggling and speaking in hushed voices about parties and boys and other nonsensical things, I finally closed my eyes and fell asleep.
CHAPTER TEN
Dylan was still sleeping when I woke up on Sunday morning, so I slipped out quietly to take a quick shower. I hummed to myself as I rubbed the soap over my body and washed my hair, the warm water soothing my muscles. Tying Dylan up had been interesting. I’d never done anything like that before, but I enjoyed it. Maybe Dylan had been right about me. Maybe I did have a kinky streak. It might be kind of fun to find out.
Although I still felt distant from Dylan in many ways, sex always sort of brought us back together. Max and I had been friends who had sex. Dylan and I were lovers and yet not really friends. I frowned at the thought then dismissed it, letting my worries flow down the drain with the soap bubbles.
I wrapped my hair in a towel, pulled on my fluffy pink robe and slippers and tiptoed back to my room with my shower caddy in my hand, eager to wake Dylan up. I may have touched myself a little more than necessary in the shower. I kind of wanted to tie him up again.
I opened the door to see Dylan sitting on the bed, a scowl on his face, and my box of birth control pills in his hand. He threw them at me. They bounced off my robe and landed on the floor at my feet.
“Care to explain?”
I put down my shower caddy and picked them up, my face getting hot. “It’s not really any of your business.”
He stood and loomed over me, so tall I had to tilt my head back to look at him. “If I’m sleeping with you, I think it is my business.”
I stepped away from him. My hands shook as I tried to think of how to answer him.
“Condoms aren’t always completely effective. It’s my back up plan.”
He stood behind me radiating anger as he clenched his hands by his sides. “You let me worry you might be pregnant.”
I shook my head and turned around so I could glare at him. “No. I told you there was nothing to worry about. I said it was safe.”
“But you didn’t tell me you were on the pill.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Why?”
I took a deep breath. “Why didn’t you tell me about all the pills in your medicine cabinet?”
He sank down onto my bed, his anger evaporating, like it had been sucked right out of him. “You saw them.”
“I was looking for a brush. I didn’t mean to snoop. But, yes, I saw them.”
He ran a hand through his dark hair. “I guess now we have to talk about it.”
I shook my head. “No. That’s my point. It’s personal. I only want you to talk about it if you want to talk about it.”
I went to sit by his side on the bed, nearly touching, but just a few inches apart. The chasm between us seemed a mile wide at this point. Dylan wore boxers and nothing else. He sighed.
“I wasn’t in school last year. I never told you why.”
My heart clenched in my chest, waiting for him to tell me he was sick and possibly dying. I tried to remember the names of the medicines on the bottles, but they were all so long and completely unfamiliar. I braved the space between us to reach for his hand, lacing my fingers with his.
“You don’t have to tell me.”
He gave me a long, steady look. “I want to tell you, but I’m not sure you want to hear.”
He was right, but I shook my head and lied. “Of course I do.”
He sighed. “It started in high school. I’ve always had issues. Anxiety, OCD, that kind of stuff. But last year it got really bad.”
This wasn’t going at all in the direction I’d expected. I’d been waiting for words like cancer and leukemia. He was talking about mental illness.
I stared at Dylan’s face. He looked sad, but normal. I exhaled slowly, calming myself. Most people would have preferred to hear anything rather than the word “cancer,” but he’d thrown me a curve. I had no idea how to deal with this.
“I became very depressed. Suicidal. I was in a hospital for a long time.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“It was horrible. I can’t explain the darkness, the feeling of having no hope at all. It almost destroyed my parents. They didn’t deserve to go through something like that, watching their oldest son want to die.”
I forced myself to move closer to him and rest my head on his shoulder. It took almost superhuman effort to overcome the fear coiling in my heart.
“You didn’t deserve it either.”
His body tensed in surprise as soon as I touched him, and he kissed the top of my head. “I just remember wanting to die so badly. Wanting the pain to end.”
“How long were you there?”
He shrugged. “Months. This is how it works. The doctor gives you one medicine, and waits a few weeks, sometimes up to six weeks, to see if there is any improvement. If that doesn’t work, he tries another, starting from ground zero. Then another. Then a combination of several. It’s not an easy process.”
“It doesn’t sound like it.”
“After they finally found the right drugs, it took a few weeks for them to start to work. I remember waking up one day not in complete agony anymore. My mom came to visit me, and as soon as she looked in my eyes she started bawling.”
“She knew just by looking at you?”
“Yes. My mom is pretty amazing. And strong. Stronger than I’ll ever be.”
I hugged his arm. “You sound pretty strong yourself, Mr. Hunter.”
He stared at my face, searching it to find out if I was really telling the truth. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For not judging me. I don’t like to talk about it, but some people know. There are whispers about what happened to me last year, I’m sure of it. I didn’t want to hide it from you, but wasn’t sure how to tell you. I didn’t want this to taint our relationship.”
“Well, you told me and now we’re fine. Do you want to get some breakfast?”
He laughed and pulled me into his arms. “Sweet Sam.”
I smiled at him, trying to hide my true emotions. Worry. Doubt. Sickening, heart-wrenching
fear.
Later, I spoke with Bethany about it. I’d gone over to her apartment to check on Gabriela, but since Gabriela hadn’t come back yet, I decided instead it was the right time to ask her about Dylan. As I suspected, she’d heard rumors about Dylan’s absence from other Greeks, and since she was a psych major, I valued her advice. She also had great respect for privacy so I knew I could trust her. We sat on her couch and talked over a bag of chips and a shared soda.
“This changes everything. I’m not sure how to act around him. What if I do the wrong thing and he hurts himself?”
Now as I remembered the look in Jake’s eyes, I knew he’d been silently begging me not to hurt his brother. The idea I could cause serious damage actually made me ill.
Bethany took a chip out of the bag and studied it before popping it in her mouth. “You can’t think like that, Sam, but you should be a little extra up-front and honest with him, I think.”
She held out the bag to me, but I declined, my stomach in knots. “It’s a lot of pressure. How can I ever break up with him now?”
Bethany froze. “You’re thinking about breaking up with him?”
I played with the tie on my yoga pants. “Kind of. Maybe. We’ll have to break up when I go to Japan anyway.”
“Dylan knows that, right?”
I nodded and took a sip of soda. “I think so.”
“Just be clear about it. Don’t avoid telling him the truth just to keep from hurting him. That will be more painful in the long run.”
The door opened, and Gabriela walked in. She had piles of bags and boxes and although she still had dark circles under her eyes, she looked a little better.
We jumped up to help her, and she handed us her packages. “Mama made dinner. Tonight, we feast.”
Mrs. Sanchez had baked a tray of enchiladas and rice that nearly made me swoon. We sat side by side on the couch, watching a movie as we ate.
“Your mom is the best cook ever,” I said.
Gabriela grinned. “She makes the sauce from scratch. And the tortillas.”
“It’s fabulous.” Bethany got up for seconds. “I don’t even care if I don’t fit into my dress for the formal. This is so worth it.”
Gabriela’s smile faltered. “I’d forgotten about the formal.”
Saying Goodbye, Part One (Passports and Promises Book 1) Page 8
