by Jaymin Eve
I blinked at him as a smile forced its way across my face. "How do you know that? Was that part of billionaire boardroom lessons?"
He finally leaned back from me, and I could breathe again. "Pterodactyls are my favorite as well, and let's just say that when I like something, I make a point of learning everything I can about it."
I wasn’t even remotely surprised by that; there was an intensity about Dylan that I’d rarely seen in any other person.
"Eat!" he barked suddenly, and I picked up the quiche again before abandoning it just as fast. I was almost certain that I wasn't going to be able to eat any of this.
"I'm too stressed to eat," I said shortly. "If you make me, I'll barf my guts up again."
Dylan's feet slammed on the floor as he was once again in my face. I'd had enough, though, so I got to my feet to stare him down. "Stop this fucking macho shit," I seethed. "I get enough of it at home, and since there I'm a prisoner of circumstances, I've made my peace with that. But I don't need to deal with it from you as well. If you're not going to help me, then get out of my way, Dylan."
He was on his feet now too, and that move was much more impressive with his height. Huge hands wrapped around my biceps, holding me in place. "You haven't asked me for help, little bird."
Fuck. Great. He had taken my last statement literally, but since I was about to ask for his protection, I couldn't really insist I was a dinos—pterosaur. Asshole.
"Jonnie, my brother's spy, has been a little more forceful than usual," I said—softly, since it was clear that half the hall was looking at us. Maybe they had been the entire time, and I hadn't noticed since Dylan had all of my attention. "I'm not sure staying in the cabin by myself is a great idea. Can you arrange for Matthew or maybe even Ben to stay with me?"
I had no idea why, in the last second, I’d changed my mind from wanting to share his cabin to getting one of the other guides to share mine. But I had the sense that I couldn't handle nights near this man if we weren't having sex, and that was, no doubt, a bad idea when everything was this messy. In my life... and between us.
"Not a fucking chance."
I jumped, unsure why he was so pissed. "Come on, Dylan. I know you have all these rules here, but I'm not safe. It's your freaking job to make sure I am."
Before I could say another word, he leaned forward and all but threw me over his shoulder. The fuck...?
"What are you doing?" I shouted, slapping his shoulder and no longer caring that the entire hall was staring and snickering. No doubt they thought I was about to get my ass tossed into the mud outside. And maybe I was.
Dylan didn't answer me as his long legs ate up the distance between the dining hall and my cabin. When he stomped up onto the porch, he kicked the door in, snapping the flimsy lock that clearly wouldn't have kept a swift breeze out. "Get your shit together," he said tonelessly, not an ounce of what he was feeling creeping out in his words.
I was set on my feet, and he stood at the door, arms crossed like a damn sentinel. "You're kicking me out?"
Dylan didn't answer, just stared me down, and I was hit with an odd wave of fury that had me stomping as I got my bag and threw all my shit into it. I was angry at life in general, my emotions a hot mess, as I acted completely out of control. Over the years I’d become an expert at hiding myself, dulling my fire, whittling away at my pterosaur until I was a fucking boring-ass bird. So this need to rage was... weird.
Maybe I had just finally reached my breaking point.
When my two bags were filled again, I dragged them over to Dylan, who easily hauled them up and over his shoulders. "Keep up," he said.
I flipped him off, and yeah, he didn't see it, but I felt better. Hurrying along, I focused on not tripping over the many loose rocks, twigs, and general pockets of wilderness scattered among the campgrounds. Dylan led me past the cabin the guides were in, the one that Jonnie had been sent to, and I briefly worried he was about to dump my ass out in the wilderness to prove a point, especially as the buildings disappeared and there was nothing but dirty snow and trees around us.
Then I saw it. The cabin, hidden in the trees.
Unlike my cabin, this one looked like the sort you'd see in a romantic movie, with wide wraparound porches, heavy, dark wood walls, and an inviting warmth. Dylan stepped up onto the porch, almost skipping over the three steps in his long-legged stride. When he opened the door, heat encased us, and I noticed a fire was simmering low in the huge fireplace.
"Wow," I breathed, stepping inside because I just had to see it all.
It was all open-plan, with one wall dominated by the fireplace, a red-brick feature stretching all the way from the floor to the ceiling. On either side were built-in shelves filled to the brim with books.
My footsteps barely made a sound as I stepped across the wood floors, loving it all. There were high ceilings with a mass of dark wood beams and splashes of white—skylight windows covered in snow. The kitchen was state-of-the-art, with a huge island and timber cabinets. They were white, lightening up a lot of the dark features, and it was...
"Perfect," I breathed. "This is... unbelievably perfect." I turned to Dylan. "This is your cabin?"
He had dropped my bags while I was gawking at the place and was already at his fire, adjusting the kindling and adding more to keep the warmth consistent. "It is, and no one is allowed here. Ever," he said, his back to me as he bent toward the brick hearth.
"Then... Why am I here?"
He straightened, facing me. "Until we deal with this Jonnie situation, I will be the one to keep you safe."
They felt possessive, his words, but once again, it was probably about the reputation of this place. Or something like that. To think anything else would be a massive mistake.
A mistake ending in heartbreak.
12
The next few days were beyond awkward. Despite making me move into his cabin—his one-bedroom cabin—Dylan all but ignored me. He made himself a bed on the couch and basically acted like I didn't exist… except for the fact that he was constantly watching me. It was making me anxious as hell, but not anxious enough to confront him over it. For now, I was happy to take the protection—and luxury—his cabin provided.
"So, what's the deal, Lawson?" One of my fellow campers bumped me with his shoulder as we stood around listening to a class on how to shoot a hunting rifle. Most of these rich fucks had grown up hunting and were probably bored shitless, but it was all gibberish to me. Blake would never have given me lessons in weaponry, afraid I’d try and take him out one day. Stupid asshole probably hadn’t read the fine print on this camp and didn’t know I’d have this sort of instruction.
"Huh? Deal?" I wasn't following the conversation, still trying my best to listen to the older guy giving our lecture in front of an outdoor target range.
The boy beside me snickered, and I gave him a confused frown.
"You know," his friend on my other side explained, "you and Grant. You're fucking, right?"
I blinked several times before realizing he meant Dylan. That was such a man thing, calling everyone by their last names.
"Uh, no." I turned my attention back to the instructor, but all I could hear was the rush of my own pounding pulse.
The first guy scoffed a laugh, nudging me again like I'd just cracked a funny joke. "Sure you're not. He must have carried your tight ass out of lunch the other day 'cause he wanted to play Scrabble with you, then."
"More like twister," the other guy cackled. "Naked twister."
The two of them guffawed and high-fived behind my back. Wow. Had they just walked straight off a teen movie set? Talk about cardboard characters.
"We're not fucking," I muttered, feeling my face flame. Not anymore, but they definitely didn't need to know that part.
More nasty snickers came from the two stooges who'd decided to pick on the token girl today.
"Yeah, I'd deny it, too, if I were you," one of them commented. "You must be a pretty crappy lay for him to treat you like he d
oes during the day. Or maybe that's your kink, huh? Being humiliated and degraded?"
The other boy gave a small moan. "If so, I'll happily make you lick my boots, sugar. I'll humiliate you all night long." He was practically breathing down my neck, so I cringed away and took a step closer to the rest of the group. It was my own damn fault for lurking at the back, hoping to go unnoticed. All it'd done was make me an easy target.
"Something funny over here?" Matthew asked, coming over to glare at my two hecklers. "Feel like sharing with the class?"
I couldn't help turning to watch as the two idiots flushed and fumbled out a lame excuse. Matthew just rolled his eyes, then jerked his head to me. "Come stand up front with me, Lawson. You can't hear shit back here."
He gave me a small push to get me moving, but I still heard the boys muttering not so subtly about how I must be whoring around with all the guides too. Such a tired, overused insult, but it always hit its mark. My cheeks were flushed with anger as Matthew directed me closer to the instructor. Closer to Dylan.
"Everything okay?" my moody cabin-mate and former lover asked in a low tone. He wasn't asking me, though. God forbid he engage me in conversation around other humans. Nope, he was asking Matthew, who gave a short nod in response.
Dylan continued watching me from the corner of his eye, but when he said nothing, I huffed and folded my arms over my chest. I needed to concentrate if I was going to learn anything.
I learned nothing. How the fuck was I supposed to focus on the ins and outs of rifle mechanics when Dylan was all but breathing down my neck? Nope. All I got out of that lecture was that Dylan Grant might actually make me crazy.
At dinner I sat with the guides again, as was becoming my normal placement, and tried to convince myself that it was because I was the only girl. It wasn't so strange that I was getting extra attention when I was literally the only vagina at the camp, right? And not in a sexual way, just in a... Ah fuck, I didn't even know what I was trying to convince myself of these days.
More and more, it felt like Dylan was making a point—not that I was his, just that I was off-limits to everyone else. Especially Ben. Every time my new sort-of friend was caught chatting with me, Dylan showed up with some menial task that Ben desperately needed to be doing.
Alright, fine. Ben was flirting. But so what? Dylan and I were nothing more than a series of hot hookups. He didn't own me.
Nope... that was Blake.
Fuck. I needed to work out what was going on with my brother. Come to think of it, I hadn't seen Jonnie around camp making a nuisance of himself since that day he'd told me about Blake going missing. Maybe a bear had eaten him?
As if summoned by the power of my thoughts, Jonnie walked through the dining-room doors and grabbed a plate at the buffet.
"Dammit," I muttered under my breath. "Bears must be too well-fed around here."
"What?" Matthew asked from across the table, wrinkling his nose in confusion. He followed my line of sight, and his eyes narrowed in a scowl. "What's that fuckface still doing here?"
His question wasn't aimed at me.
"Committing suicide," Dylan replied in a cool tone, "obviously."
Jonnie turned from the buffet, facing us briefly as he searched for a seat, and I gasped at the dark bruising around his left eye. Someone had punched him since we’d last spoken, and punched him hard.
I couldn't help myself. I giggled.
That small sound pulled both Matthew’s and Dylan's attention, and I flushed hot with embarrassment. I tried to fake a cough to cover it up, but I didn't think I was really fooling anyone.
Chatter around the table was flowing normally, though, so I just ducked my head low and quietly ate my food. Dylan was being a total prick about me eating "enough," but I was quietly enjoying the opportunity to eat carbs and did as I was told. Who knew when Blake would show up and drag me back to my old life, kicking and screaming?
At least when he did that—and he would, sooner or later—I'd have gained a few pounds and enjoyed some good food.
"Hey, Brooklyn," Ben addressed me as he dropped his plate of food beside Matthew and sat down in the vacant chair. "How was today's training? Learn anything useful?"
Words fled my head as all eyes at the table turned to me, making me squirm in my seat. Fuck’s sake. Where was that backbone I was supposed to find here at camp? So far it was eluding me.
"Um, yeah, it was good," I replied, vague as fuck and praying the subject would shift away from me.
"Oh yeah?" Dylan had a sarcastic edge to his voice, and my stomach sank. "What part was most interesting to you, Brooklyn?"
My face heated further, and I met his green eyes with a hard glare. "All of it."
He rolled his eyes. Motherfucker actually rolled his eyes at me. So much for professionalism. What was he even fucking doing here? He never led any of the exercises or training courses. That was all the guides or expert specialists. Dylan was just... lurking and staring.
"Maybe if you paid more attention instead of flirting with the other campers, you might walk out of this with some valuable life skills, Lawson." Dylan's words were cold and clipped, leaving me totally speechless as he pushed back from his chair and carried his empty plate over to the wash-up area.
He thought I'd been flirting with those douchebags? What the actual—?
"You gonna let him get away with that, Lawson?" Matthew asked under his breath, just loud enough for me to hear. Okay, me and Ben, which I realized when my blond friend snickered a laugh behind his hand.
And yet I was still like a damn possum in headlights, just staring at Matthew while I tried to understand what exactly he was saying.
Ben seemed to understand my confusion because he sighed and gave me a sympathetic look.
"Go and kick his ass, Brooklyn," he translated, nodding in the direction Dylan had just gone. "It's not okay to talk to any woman like that, and he damn well knows it. He deserves to be chewed out for it, and you need to work on your assertiveness. So, two birds, one stone. Go get 'im."
I started to shake my head in refusal, but... why the fuck not? Dylan had just accused me of flirting when I was clearly being harassed by those fuckers during our instructional. He was being a deliberate asshole, and why the hell should I keep putting up with it?
After all, it wasn't my reputation on the line if people found out about us. It was his. So if he was really so concerned, he needed to stop being such an insufferable fuckhead.
Clenching my teeth in determination, I pushed back from the table as Matthew and Ben smirked up at me.
"That's more like it," Matthew commented, and Ben shot me a thumbs up.
Huh, maybe he hadn't been flirting with me, after all. Apparently I was pretty shit at judging people.
I delivered my dirty plates to the wash-up area—because it was rude as hell to leave them for someone else to pick up—then left the dining hall. Dylan had probably gone back to his cabin. Our cabin.
Every step I took along the path bolstered my anger toward him, so by the time the pretty, fairytale cabin came into view, I was seething mad.
How dare he? He had no right to treat me like such shit these last few days. I'd been all but nonexistent during the day, but oh, god forbid I try talking to anyone else or make friends! And I didn't believe for a fucking second that he had moved me into his cabin to protect me; it was a power play, plain and simple. He was pissing on his tree, making sure everyone knew I was off limits.
Well. Fuck. That.
I stomped up the front stairs and shoved the front door open in a burst of fury, which instantly evaporated when my eyes landed on Dylan. Naked Dylan. Totally freaking naked.
"What the hell?" I exclaimed in a strangled scream, clapping my hands over my eyes. "Why are you naked?"
"Calm down, Brooke," he replied, sounding not even slightly embarrassed. "I was about to take a shower. I figured you would be ages, seeing as your boyfriend had just arrived to gossip."
That just reminded me why I'd
come chasing after him in such a huff in the first place.
"Okay, let's get some things straight, Dylan," I announced, still covering my eyes with my hands. It seemed stupid, talking to him like this, but it was actually helping my confidence. "Ben is not my boyfriend. I wasn't fucking flirting with those douchebags earlier. And you—" I broke off, my mouth going dry as I felt him standing way too damn close. Holy hell, I could feel his heat right in front of me. If I reached out, I'd probably touch his—
"Why are you covering your eyes, Brooke?" he asked when I didn't continue with my mini-rant. "You've seen my dick plenty of times before. Hell, you had no problem showing me exactly how much you loved my dick in the back of that limo the night we met... Remember that, Serena?" He brushed a lock of my messy blonde hair over my shoulder, his fingertips grazing my neck in a way that made me tremble. But he was just making a point. That much was clear by the way he’d called me Serena.
Fucking hell, why'd I have to lie to him all those months ago?
Oh yeah, 'cause I wanted hot, anonymous sex with the sexiest man alive. I just hadn't expected him to want to see me again—or for me to stupidly fall for him.
"Can you put some pants on or something?" I pleaded, pressing my hands tighter over my eyes in an effort not to look. Because if I looked... I was going to want to do a whole lot more. And more was firmly off the table right now.
Dylan didn't do as I asked. He just scoffed a small laugh. "Why? You scared my dick will seduce you, Brooke?"
Yes. "No."
"So what's the problem? We've both done a whole lot more than just see each other naked, so why act like a blushing virgin now?"
My whole body stiffened with tension. Did he know? No. No, of course not. He'd have said something at the time... and seeing as we'd been in the shower with nothing but soft candlelight illuminating the room, all the evidence had been easily washed away. No, Dylan had no clue he'd been my first—and only—lover.
"This is stupid," I announced, spinning around to give him my back. Yeah, I felt dumb as crap with my hands over my eyes, but I also didn't trust myself not to crumble like wet paper if I saw him all naked and sexy and in my personal space. "I'm going for a walk."
