Unsocial

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Unsocial Page 39

by Dykes, Nicole


  “And I don’t care. You’re not making it in my contact list.”

  “You are the biggest asshole I’ve ever met,” she yells.

  I’ve had enough. This is bullshit. I don’t need the hassle. Getting my dick sucked or fucked shouldn’t be this goddamn hard. Besides the bastard hasn’t been paying attention tonight. “Fuck this.” I grab my phone to pull up the number for a taxi as I walk away. This was never going to go anywhere.

  At home, I lie on my bed trying to figure out what the hell I’m going to do. I can’t get Brooke out of my head. I can’t even get hard for women like I’m used to fucking. Brooke is still taking up way too much space in my head. Everything about that one night, how goddamn perfect it was touching her, kissing her, tasting her, fucking her, still occupies nearly every waking moment of every day. I know without a doubt that no matter how many times I try to pick up a random it’s not going to work.

  Then my brain just clicks with a brilliant idea. I need one more night with Brooke. That will do it. It’s a long shot that she’ll agree, but I've got to try it. Before I can talk myself out of it, I dial Brooke’s number.

  She answers the phone, sleepily, "Dylan?” I’m surprised she answers, but then she doesn’t have a choice since I’m her fucking client.

  I look at the clock. Shit, it's after midnight. "It’s me. Did I wake you?"

  She yawns, "It's okay, is something wrong?"

  "Yeah. I mean, no. I was just thinking about you."

  "I don’t understand, what about me?"

  "I want, no I need, to be with you for one more night.”

  There’s silence on her end, but I’m sure she’s in shock. I get that I told her we’re nothing but professional, but I have to convince her to be with me again, just one more time. I swear I feel like a junkie, and she is my drug. "Brooke, the other night was fucking incredible, but it wasn’t enough. I want more, and I think you do too."

  "It was, but Dylan we agreed it would just be that one night. Tuesday you made me leave because you said we’re only professional from now on. Sorry if I’m confused."

  “I made you leave because being around you was driving me crazy. I wanted to take you to bed. That’s all I’ve been thinking about since last week. It wasn’t enough, so I want one more night. Tell me you haven't thought about it."

  "I have thought about it. But what if it won’t be enough this time either?”

  She had a good point, and I don’t know if this idea is the right answer. “All I know is that we have to, at least, try to get over this insane attraction. Otherwise, the rest of this year is going to go bad. I can’t be around you and not want you if we can’t get past it. One more time. That’s it. Friday after work. I'll rent a hotel room and have Jax stay with the kids. I'll tell him I have to meet a client out of town. You tell Alex you have a conference or something. Social workers, have conferences don’t they?”

  She laughs, "Yes, we have plenty of those.” She’s laughing. That’s got to be a good sign.

  I've never in my life been this desperate to get a girl.

  "I want to say yes, but I can’t say I’m not worried.”

  "There’s no risk of anyone seeing us. I know the other night was risky, but this won’t be. We’ll just be a couple in a hotel room for the evening. Please say yes, Brooke.” I sound like some desperate pussy whipped kid begging his girl to go all the way. Shit. "Look, Friday is six days away. Just think about it and let me know. Text me a, yes, and I’ll send you reservation information. If you text me no, then….I don’t know yet. Just promise to think about it.”

  "Okay,” she whispers.

  “Is that okay, yes, or okay, I’ll think about it?”

  “I’ll think about it. I promise.”

  I smile, "Good. I'll be waiting. Goodnight, Brooke."

  "Goodnight, Dylan."

  We hang up, and my mind wonders straight to thoughts of her. This is so insane. I think about what she said, what do we do if this doesn’t work? Can I ask her for another time then another time? How many times will it take? Fuck, what if this time only fuels the fire. Makes me want her more. Is sleeping with her one more time worth the risk of wanting to be with her again and again. I think I’ve made a big mistake. My phone buzzes beside me on the bed. I’m thinking it’s probably just Jax congratulating me on scoring tonight. Little does he know what a fail that was. I glance at the text I receive. Just one word that causes my heart to pound and my breath to stop.

  Brooke: Yes.

  Exactly the answer I wanted. Right?

  Chapter 26

  Brooke

  "A social work conference?"

  “Yeah, Friday and Saturday. I’ll just be gone one night. I totally forgot about it with all the new cases I’ve been given plus the holidays. Do you have any plans for the weekend, maybe with Jackson?” I check my purse and briefcase one last time before I head into work. It’s Wednesday morning, and I’m just now telling Alex about the “conference” I have to go to Friday. I would have told her sooner, but work has been crazy.

  “No plans. I’m working late Friday and opening Saturday for Jennifer. And Jax has only called me once since he’s been back from Oklahoma City.” She pauses a moment, “I’m not sure about hooking up with him again. You know how I get, Brooke, and I think he’ll end up running as soon as my clingy side comes out. It’s happened too many times before, and Jackson is a no-relationship guy.”

  Like, Dylan.

  When he called me this past weekend to suggest we spend one more night together, I was in shock, but there was no way I could pass it up, not after the night we had together. Every moment plays over and over, and the only thing that would have made it perfect would have been a repeat. So his request is something that I couldn’t turn down.

  I know I should be worried about the consequences it could have on my job, but I’m more concerned about the cost of my heart. Somewhere in the past six months, Dylan has worked himself inside my heart, and I’m afraid it will only take a small push for me to fall in love. Unfortunately, love and relationships are a no-go for Dylan. I just have to keep reminding myself of this, and once again take it for what it is.

  I would be lying if I said it didn't thrill me that once wasn't enough for him. But I must say the suggestion took me by surprise, especially after the disaster that was last Tuesday. Him asking me to leave like he did I have to admit nearly gutted me. Then his explanation on the phone Friday night blew me away with his admission, that he still wanted me, well, at least one more time with me. I’ll have to take it, and I will, and I’m going to enjoy the hell out of it. It’ll be something that I’ll probably compare every other man I’m with in the future. How sad is that?

  “I think it’s smart, seeing it now before you get in too deep. So, you okay with me being gone on Friday then?” I ask trying to make sure she’s bought the whole lie.

  She's dressed to go for a run and starts stretching in the living room. "Totally fine. Feel sorry for you, though, it sounds super boring.”

  I laugh, "It’s to help me in my new career not provide entertainment. That’s why it’s called a conference and not a party.” I hate lying to her, and since meeting Dylan, I seem to be doing quite a bit of it. Each time makes me feel a little worse than the last. But I know she wouldn't understand. Right now I don't want to hear any of her reasons why meeting him on Friday would be a bad idea. The day after accepting his invitation for Friday he sent me the reservation details. I’m not backing out, and I don’t need her talking me into backing out.

  As Friday draws closer, it becomes more difficult to think about work. The hotel he booked is a five star hotel in downtown Kansas City, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t interested in checking it out. It’s the same hotel that has the spa the Monroes got me a full pass for, so maybe I can check that out while I’m there. Everything I’ve heard about it promises me a glorious time.

  My thoughts wonder to what Friday will be like. I wonder if he’s taking me out to dinner, mayb
e a drink in the hotel bar, or will we just go straight to ripping each other’s clothes off. Personally, I’d be fine with the latter. When I enter the building, my thoughts are insanely inappropriate. My thoughts are still insanely naughty and inappropriate for work when I walk into the building, but what can I do. Since I agreed to this proposal, the possibilities of what we’ll do to each other’s bodies are endless.

  An hour into my workday Janice hands me a file on an abuse victim at the hands of her live-in boyfriend. “I hate to hand you another case, Brooke, but this one needs special attention. Her name is Sarah Freeman. She’s a single mother. Two nights ago she finally called the called the police on the boyfriend after he beat her then grabbed her son.”

  My heart saddens for the woman. I glance quickly at her file and see that she had to be taken to the hospital last night, and her children are in temporary state custody. “Absolutely. I’ll go in now and talk to her.” I glance once more at the file. “It says here that she has a couple of broken ribs and a broken arm. If we get her children is she going to be able to take care of them? I don’t see mention of any family.”

  "She has those injuries among other things I’m sure. No family in Kansas. You’ll just have to see what resources are open right now for her and the kids.”

  We see abuse cases all the time, and it never gets easy, but when there are children involved, it makes everything seem so much worse. Even though she has some serious physical injuries that will take time to heal, it’s the emotional ones that will take the longest to get over. I know from the many interviews I’ve had with these abused mothers that the guilt of not being able to get out and protect their children is what causes the most anguish for them. "Okay, I’ll go in and get her taken care of.” I love my job as a social worker, and I appreciate that they have faith in my abilities so much that they feel comfortable adding to my workload, but lately I’ve felt like I’m drowning in paperwork, the research for appropriate accommodations, all the new cases.

  I stand outside the conference room door, square my shoulders, and give myself the usual pep talk. You can do this, Brooke. This is your job, and this lady depends on you to make this horrific situation better, for her and her children. I open the door and greet my newest client. My first impression is how pretty she is despite the physical evidence of a man who is certainly a monster. Right now her dark hair hangs long and heavy to the middle of her back. Her eyes are black, and there are bruises on her cheeks and jaw. Her neck has the imprint of a hand on either side where he obviously tried to choke her. Her eyes are a beautiful shade of gold despite the sadness that’s in them. I can’t imagine what kind of a person could do this to someone like her. I give her my most confident smile and get to work for her. “Good morning, Sarah. I’m Brooke, your caseworker. Let’s see what we can do about getting you some assistance and see your children.”

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Brooke,” she replies in a small voice. “And thank you.”

  With that, we get to work making arrangements for housing, assistance, insurance, and other necessities needed to show she can provide temporarily with state aid for her and her children. After several hours of filling out and filing paperwork, phone calls, and making plans to move what belongings she has to her new living place, I take her to see to the foster home where her children have been staying. It’s more than apparent how much she loves the adorable twins and how much they love her. They’re Gabby’s age, and from her paperwork, I know she’s 22-year-old, so she was only 16 when she had them. I watch her with them and see how hard this separation is on all of them. My mind drifts to Dylan and the kids, all the progress they’ve made in the last six months, and I’m determined to make sure this young family has the same. This is why I wanted to become a social worker, for the families.

  By 9 pm I'm back in the same conference room that I had my meeting with Sarah. It’s been a long day of working for her as well as meeting other clients, and I’m behind on much needed paperwork, hence the need to be in the conference room with file after file spread on the huge table. Everyone has long since gone home, even the janitor who informed me he was leaving about an hour ago. I don’t see myself getting out of here anytime soon, and some of this has to be done for court appearances that I’ll be having tomorrow. This part of my job is definitely not why I became a social worker. It’s tedious, boring, and tiring. I’ve wished for the last two hours that I could see the end of the file so I could go home to my bed and sleep. With work and thoughts of Dylan, my need for eight hours a night has not been met. I heave a sigh and reach for the next file, digging deep for the will to continue. The quiet is nice I have to admit. During the day, there are too many interruptions to get everything accomplished, and there is no way I’m dragging all this home.

  Behind me, I hear a light knock on the doorframe, followed by the sexy voice that’s never far from my thoughts. "Brooke."

  No way. Maybe I’ve fallen asleep. I turn slowly and take in the object of all my dreams and fantasies. Dylan’s large frame is filling the doorway causing all kinds of dirty thoughts to come to mind, like sex on this big table. I give myself a mental shake and set those ideas aside. "Dylan?"

  He takes a step just inside the door. "You’re working late.”

  "Yes. How did you know I was here?"

  He looks slightly guilty and sits in the chair next to me, "I went to your apartment, and Alex told me you were probably here."

  Oh my, God, he went to my apartment. Oh, this is bad, I can only imagine what Alex thought. He must read the worry on my face because he places his hand on my thigh. “It’s okay. I told her it was an emergency with Cass.”

  “But it’s not, Cassie’s okay?”

  “She’ fine. I just needed to talk to you, and you weren’t answering you phone. You’re sure working late.”

  “I forgot to charge my phone last night, and with all the calls I made today out in the field it finally gave up a couple of hours ago. And I’m working so late because of all this exciting paperwork.” I gesture at the table. So what’s going on?” I ask nervously. I’m wondering if this has anything to do with Friday.

  He gives me an anxious look, which just increases my anxiety. "I changed my mind about Friday, Brooke."

  What? No. I immediately feel rejected, and it hurts like a bitch. I lower my head just enough to hide my reaction that I’m sure is written all over my face. "Okay, it probably wasn’t a smart idea anyway.” I doubt I’m pulling off the ‘I don’t give a shit’ tone I’m trying for.

  He leans over and pulls me into a deep kiss. Now I’m just more confused because this kiss doesn’t say ‘goodbye’ or ‘I don’t want you.’ The mixed signals have my thoughts running all over the place searching for an answer to what the hell is going on.

  When he breaks the kiss I pull back and ask him breathlessly, "Dylan, what’s going on?"

  He looks closely at me before standing to run his fingers through his hair like he’s trying to find just the right words to whatever is on his mind. He looks frustrated and a little desperate, then he takes a deep breath before speaking, “I don't want just another one-night stand with you, Brooke. I want more, like a lot more. I want to be with you, in a relationship with you. I'm not going to stand here and promise you marriage and babies because up until now I thought all that stuff was bullshit. Definitely not something I was interested in, but with you, I want to see where this attraction can go.”

  I sit in my chair trying to wrap my head around the words he is saying. "So what do you want.”

  "You."

  "Me? As in a fling or friends with benefits?"

  He shakes his head, "No, not casual. Not a fling. No friends with benefits. Brooke, I thought that's what I needed. That’s really all I know. I figured if I could sleep with you a couple of times then I could stop thinking about you and wanting you. And then I could just go back to my old lifestyle, the selfish asshole I thought I loved being, but it didn't work. What I want is an actual relationship wit
h you."

  I want to ask what he means by ‘it didn’t work’ but decide not to go there. Instead, a small smile finds its way on my face. I don’t want to get too excited, but I can’t help it. A relationship? With Dylan? My heart races at the thought, but then reason sets in. A relationship would be impossible. Reality is such a mean bitch.

  "Dylan, we can't date. Not until you have full guardianship and I'm no longer your social worker."

  "I don’t want to wait that long. I can’t wait that long to be with you. Brooke, I need you now." He holds my face in his hands, tilting it up to towards his. His eyes are so full of heat they nearly burn my own. “Can you trust me to figure this out? I promise that your career will not be threatened, and neither will my case. We’ll be careful to make sure no one finds out until it’s safe. As much as I would love to show you off and tell everyone that you’re my girlfriend, I’ll do everything to keep us safe from any repercussions.”

  Girlfriend. My whole body warms at the thought. I knew long before this that if Dylan wanted a relationship with me that I wouldn’t be able to fight it. I’m too far in to let fear for my job or my heart stand in the way of this chance to see what he and I can build together. Honestly, nothing else matters because I need him too. And if he thinks we can figure out how to make this work, then I have to trust him. I have to take this chance.

  I remember Alex telling me how I’ve allowed men to make me change for them, but I know if taking this chance were with anyone but Dylan I wouldn’t do it. I would walk away. Dylan makes it worth breaking all the rules, risking everything, potentially facing the consequences if it all goes wrong. I love my career that I’m so new at getting started, but I love the idea of Dylan and me together even more. I may be blinded by lust or maybe even the possibility of love, but I don’t care. I need to be full in on this decision because I can’t leave it just on his shoulders to navigate the dangerous waters of this relationship alone. I realize he’s risking as much if not more than I am. I’m risking my job, even though it’s one that I’ve busted my ass for, I know that there are other career paths I could follow, but Dylan is putting his family on the line to be with me, and you only have one family. I have to go in this as brave and sure as he seems to be doing. We’ll need to be strong enough to lean on each other.

 

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