by Beth Michele
My eyelids grow heavy. The warmth of the sun and the heat from Dylan’s body sends me off into a blissful nap. When I blink my eyes open, Dylan is lying on his side, his cheek propped against his fist, staring at me.
“Hey.”
“Hi.” A strand of hair sits against my face and he moves it behind my ear. “Did you have a good dream?” His fingers trail up and down the bare skin of my arm and I shiver.
“Dream? I dozed off for a minute. I don’t think I had time for a dream.” His hand wanders, warm fingertips gliding over the hollow of my neck and my breathing picks up. The brown in his eyes deepens as he hones in on my breasts, now heavy and aching for his touch.
He leans in, his mouth sucking on the skin just below my ear as his thumb traces the curve of my breast. “You said my name in your sleep,” he whispers, and I moan when he cups me, his lips and his touch lighting a fire, pushing my need for him to the surface. This is so unlike me. Even though there’s no one around, we are in the middle of a park, but I’m too turned-on to care.
He doesn’t stop, thank God, and my body begins to squirm as his tongue reaches the swell of my breast at the same time his fingers sneak under the fabric of my skirt. His thumb rubs a gentle pattern around my thigh, slowly drifting higher and higher until he reaches my panties. He lifts his head from my chest, leveling me with a gaze that melts my insides before he captures my lips in a warm, wet kiss. His tongue slides in and out of my mouth, and I gasp as he slips a finger inside my panties, finding my center and applying just the right amount of pressure to make me fall apart.
“You’re so sweet, Evie,” he hums, continuing to circle me with his finger, raining kisses along my jawline. My skin is burning, my want for him limitless. I clutch at his hair, drawing him to my lips again, whimpering into his mouth.
“Dylan,” I pant, as he speeds up and I explode, trembling, flickers of color dancing before my eyes. With my breathing refusing to slow, he removes his hand from my panties and places his palm over my heart. A slow smile warms his face and easily spreads to mine.
“I love watching you,” his voice is soft, “but more than that, I love touching you.”
“Yes, the touching is good,” I agree, and he chuckles, one corner of his lips rising in a smirk.
“Just good, huh?”
“Fishing for something to boost your inflated ego? Okay, I’ll bite. I’ll offer up… hmph… amazing, heavenly, out of this world….” He smiles at that, seemingly pleased with my array of compliments. The list is endless where he’s concerned. But I’ll keep that part to myself.
I let out a sigh, my breathing finally returning to normal. Dylan rests his head next to the hand still splayed across my chest.
“So, I’m excited to start classes again in the fall,” I tell him. “I’ve got enough money saved up now, and Nora gave me a brochure from her college. I’ll switch my hours at the salon and work around my class schedule.”
“That’s awesome, Evie.” He lifts his chin, thoughtful for a second. “I’m sure there are lots of places that have similar classes, right?”
“Huh?” I question, because he’s not making any sense. “What do you mean?”
“Oh, you know,” he hesitates, scratching at his jaw, “lots of colleges that offer the same classes.”
“Okay, Dylan. Out with it. What are you talking about?” I glare at him in confusion but he doesn’t elaborate.
“Never mind.”
“Okaaaaaay.” I narrow my gaze at him with little effect. Of course, now I’m curious what that was all about.
“So, somebody has a birthday coming up in a few months.” He swivels his head to the side, obviously changing the subject. “Any guesses who that might be?”
“Hmph….” I tap my fingertips against my mouth, hiding my grin. “Nope.”
“That’s too bad. Because I had big plans for the birthday girl.” He snickers, knowing full well how much I love my birthday.
It’s all my parents’ fault, really. They always made a big deal about it so that’s what I’ve come to expect. My mom would say, ‘the day you were born was one of the best days of my life, and there’s no way I’m not going to yell it to the world.’
Bunches of multi-colored balloons everywhere and presents galore. Never mind the homemade cake she always made and the few close friends I had who were always there. My mind sifts through the memories like I’m flipping through old pictures, stopping to relish each one—and my heart smiles.
“Like what kind of plans?”
“You’ll just have to wait and see.” He taps the end of my nose and follows it up with a kiss.
“Remember my father told me when I turned twenty he was going to buy me a car. I still don’t know how he planned on doing that, we didn’t have a lot of money.” I press my lips together to stifle a laugh. “Anyway, remember what I told him?”
“Uh, yes.” His eyes roll up to the heavens and he changes the pitch of his voice. “‘No thanks, Dad, I’ll save up and buy it myself. But thanks anyway.’ I also remember your dad throwing his hands up in the air and walking away, mumbling something about, what daughter wouldn’t want their dad to buy them a car.
“So stubborn, Evie. Sexy as all get-out,” he drops his lashes in a wink, “but definitely stubborn. Shit, if my dad had ever offered to buy me a car, I would’ve told him which one I wanted, and held my hands out for the keys. But we both know it would’ve been a cold day in hell before he did something like that, for me anyway.”
“Yeah, well—”
The ring of my cell phone interrupts us and I reach over Dylan to grab it from my purse. He presses his face into my breasts and I snort out a laugh.
“Nora,” I mouth to Dylan as I unlock it and place it next to my ear. “Hey, Nora. What’s up?” He bites my nipple through my tank and I glare at him.
“I-I know you probably… have a client, but can I come… see you on a break?” Her voice sounds strange and she’s sniffling with little sobbing hiccups. I push Dylan gently so I can get myself to a sitting position. “What’s wrong?”
“I just… need to talk to you.” Her words are broken up by tears and it worries me.
“I’m not at work. Where are you? I’ll come to you.”
“I’m,” she pauses as if she has to remember, “sitting in my car at the university student center.” More sobs break through and she blows her nose.
“Okay, don’t move. I don’t want you driving, so I’ll be there within the hour, okay?”
“Okay,” she agrees, and I hang up the phone to meet Dylan’s face, scrunched up in confusion.
“What’s wrong?” He starts picking up the food and stuffing it back in the basket.
“I don’t know. But she’s crying hysterically and this isn’t like her at all. I need to go to her.” I help him shake the grass from the blanket and we walk back to the truck just like we arrived, hand-in-hand.
My mind is running through various scenarios on the way back to the house, intensifying my unease. Dylan hasn’t let go of my hand, and that’s the only thing keeping some of my concern at bay. This is so unlike Nora. She doesn’t get emotional. We always leave that part to me.
When we arrive at the house, I hop out of the truck and Dylan comes around to my side.
“I know you’re worried,” his hand caresses my jaw, “but I’m sure Nora’s fine.”
“Yeah. You’re probably right. But I’m going to get over there, just to be sure.” I reach between us and weave our fingers together. “Thank you for a wonderful date. I had a great time.”
“Me too, baby.” Warmth curls around me at hearing his endearment, and I have to do everything in my power not to break out into a huge grin. He bends down, taking my lips in a sweet kiss that makes every one of my body parts tingle. “Call me later and let me know how Nora is, okay?”
“I will.” My hand drops away from his and I plod down the driveway.
“Hey, Evie,” he calls out, and I spin around, my ponytail nearly smackin
g me in the face.
“Yeah?”
“I think I finally know what it feels like to fly.”
He walks away then, leaving me in the ending of the most romantic movie ever, fighting for bits of breath, because he’s stealing all of mine… one by one.
THE STUDENT CENTER parking lot is packed with cars when I arrive. Regardless, I’m able to spot Nora’s yellow Mini Cooper from a mile away. Just like its owner, it stands out from the crowd.
I’m navigating my way through various rows of cars to get to her as a strange sort of exhilaration washes over me. The energy crackling in the air here actually gives me goose bumps. A huge part of me can’t wait to come back and finish my degree and then go on for my Master’s. I’m one of those weird people who loves to learn.
There’s an empty spot a few cars down from Nora and I park my battered, but very loved, red Honda. The one that belonged to my mom. It’s got over a hundred thousand miles, but I refuse to get rid of it, not until it runs into the ground. Maybe even beyond that point.
As I approach Nora’s car, I see her body hunched over, hugging the steering wheel. Her hair is frizzed out at the sides as if she’s been pulling at it. I knock on the window and she jumps, clicking the lock on the door.
She looks up and her nose is as pink as her hair. “You scared me!” she shouts. Her face is striped with black mascara, cheeks stained with tears. I slide into the tiny bucket seat and shift to face her.
“Well, we’re even. What’s going on?” I drop my purse on the floor and take her hand, setting it on my lap.
“It’s my mom and dad.” She barely gets the words out before the tears start to fall.
“Are they okay? Tell me, Nora.” I open the glove compartment and dig for some tissues, handing a bunch to her.
“Well… they’re… they’re getting back together.” Her voice cracks and she wipes her nose with her hand instead of the tissues.
“What?” I almost start laughing, but refrain at the last minute. “Wait, then why are you upset? I don’t understand. This is what you’ve always wanted.”
“B-because,” her bottom lip is trembling and she can’t seem to string the words together, “b-because yesterday they told me they were getting back together and today my mom told me they found a lump on her breast.”
“Oh, Nora.” I give her hand a supportive squeeze and she lets out a wobbly breath.
She stares down at her seat, picking at the leather. “They’re going to do a biopsy tomorrow to determine if it’s….” She glances up at me, fear present in her green eyes. “I can’t even say the word, Evie.”
“I know. But listen. I know you’re concerned, I would be too, but try not to worry until there really is something to worry about. It could be absolutely nothing. You know as well as I do that we have all that weird tissue in our boobs that gets mistaken for one thing or another, right?”
She nods, a weak smile lifting one corner of her lips.
“I mean, remember when the doctor taught us to do those self-exams? Every other week we thought we had something, right?”
“Yeah, you’re right. Thanks, Evie.”
“Of course,” I say, and she smiles, but something still seems off in her expression. “What else? That’s not it, is it?”
“No.”
“Nora,” I scold, staring her down, “are you going to make me drag it out of you, or what?”
Exhaling a noisy breath, her gaze slides to mine. “To make matters worse, I can’t stop thinking about Hazel and Augustus.”
“Oh, God!” I throw my hands up, almost hitting the low ceiling of the car. “I’m getting emotional whiplash here.” That makes her giggle, and she grabs her stomach until the laughter subsides.
“That was a good one, Evie. Thanks, I needed that.”
“Listen, your mom is going to be just fine. I know it. And as far as Hazel and Augustus go, you shouldn’t have been thinking about them because that doesn’t help, especially with your mom. And, no, I didn’t finish it yet. I planned to, but I got interrupted.”
“I hope it was a good interruption at least, although, I can think of very few worthy ones while I’m reading.” She buries her nose in one tissue after another before stuffing them in the side pocket.
“It was,” I confess, but the smile on my face is the only proof she needs.
“Well,” she crosses her slender arms over her chest, “please tell me you’ve finally relieved Dylan, put him out of his misery.”
“Yes. I’d say he’s pretty happy.”
“And,” she whirls her entire body around, prodding me to go on, “how was it?”
“Let’s just say I want to do it again, and again, and again after that.”
“If it wasn’t Dylan, I’d ask for the details, but I’m not sure I want a picture of that in my head when I see him. Tell me one thing, though,” she leans in close, “is he, you know, well endowed?”
“He’s… perfect.” I tip my head back against the seat, letting out a fluttery breath. “You know what blows my mind about Dylan? He doesn’t think he’s deep or romantic, but he says the sweetest things to me. He makes me feel a way no one else ever has.”
“That’s because you love him, Evie.”
I lift my head and look into Nora’s red-rimmed eyes. “Yes, I do. More than I ever thought possible.”
“I’m glad. For two reasons. One, because you guys belong together, and two, I’ve known it for years, I’ve just been waiting for you to finally admit it.” She flaps her hand at me, clicking her tongue. “Enough of that best friends mumbo jumbo.”
“Mumbo jumbo?” I giggle, and she smiles, her green eyes showing signs of life again.
“Yeah, that friends shit was over a long time ago. Speaking of which, Braden called me and asked if I wanted to hang out,” she tells me, picking at her fingernail, “but I said no.”
“Why, what’s the problem? He’s a great guy,” I offer, fishing in my purse for a stick of gum. I hold one out to Nora but she declines.
“The problem is, I can’t have sex with him. I only date guys I don’t like so I can have sex with them.”
“Nora,” I shake my head trying to brush off her insanity, “you do realize how bizarre that sounds, right?”
“Of course,” she readily admits, taking the package of Tic-Tacs off the dashboard and dropping a few into her mouth.
“I think your psychologist alter ego could have a field day with that one.”
“Well, we just won’t tell her, now will we?” With a conspiratorial wink, she tosses back the rest of the Tic-Tacs and I laugh. “Hey.” Her mouth is full of candy, but she keeps talking anyway, and by some miracle I still understand her. “I just realized something.”
“What’s that?”
“Now that you and Dylan aren’t best friends anymore, I’m kind of your number one best friend, right? Well,” she doesn’t wait for me to answer, “I’m claiming the spot… right after you tell him you love him, which will be when exactly?”
“Soon.”
She gives my shoulder an encouraging squeeze, her green eyes brimming with sincerity. “I know there’s a piece of you that’s still afraid, I can see it in your eyes, but… just don’t wait too long, okay? I think you’ve waited long enough.”
She’s right. I have.
I HAUL ASS down the stairs, knowing I have to make a stop at Braden’s garage before heading to the diner. After bailing on Jordan yesterday, I at least need to get in there early.
For a change though, there’s not an ounce of guilt rolling around inside of me at missing work. Not when I spent the day with Evie… and it was amazing. Every moment I spend with her is better than the next.
“Gran?” I call out, grabbing an apple from the fruit bowl on the table. The kitchen is spotless, right down to the shiny countertops, and I know she’s been at it again.
“Be right there, dear.”
I check the fridge for orange juice and quickly take a swig from the carton before she c
atches me and reads me the riot act.
“Still not liking the whole glass idea, huh?” she remarks, sneaking up behind me and scaring me half to death.
“Gran, you have a habit of scaring the shit out of me!” The scowl on her face changes my word choice. “Crap, I meant crap.”
“Eh, crap, shit, I suppose they’re just words aren’t they?” she says, a grin pulling up the corners of her mouth. “Sit, Dylan.” She gestures to a chair and I take a seat across from her. Her ring clinks against the table as she slides a box toward me.
“What’s this?” I stare at the plain, white box topped with a yellow bow. She crosses her arms, then leans forward and smiles.
“It’s a birthday gift. Albeit a bit late. Go on,” she motions with her hand, “open it.”
I remove the top, finding a square piece of cotton inside. When I lift it up, I blink several times, my mouth widening in shock. Inside sits my Grandfather’s sterling silver pocket watch attached to a battered link chain he used to carry around all the time. In fact, he never went anywhere without it. “Gran, this was—”
“Grandpa’s,” she interrupts, “and he would have wanted you to have it.”
“Gran, I can’t—” I start to say the words, realizing how special this must be to her, and how difficult it has to be to let it go.
“You can, and you will.” Her voice is stern and determined and the argument, as usual, is over. “I want you to have it. It meant so much to your grandfather… and you meant so much to him.” Her tone crackles with emotion and I battle with tears that want to break free. She clears her throat, shaking her head. “I’m such a softy. I can’t help it. Now, turn it over.”
I look back down at the watch and flip it over. Engraved in faded black script, it reads: Time waits for no one. Of course, I know why she’s giving it to me. Subtlety is not Grandma’s strong suit—and I love her for it.
