Broken Trust: A Dark High School Romance(51)

Dylan shrugged. “It’s Riley,” he said as way of explanation.

Her name leaving his lips had my hands clenched into fists at my side. Watching that brief kiss between them had brought out the worst kind of possessive bastard in me.

“She kissed me,” Dylan said straight up. “But … I wasn’t complaining.”

A derisive snort left me. “I noticed.”

There was a beat of silence, where both of us sized each other up. Dylan sort of deflated after that. “I’m not gonna lie, Riley … she fucks something up inside of me. In a good way. Sometimes when she stares at me with those blue as fuck eyes, all I can think about is touching her.”

Part of me wanted to punch the shit out of him. But a larger part understood. Riley had a way about her, and it didn’t surprise me that my best friend felt the same way as me.

“She’s mine,” I said, letting those words slide across my tongue, dark and dangerous. “You’re my brother, Dylan, but if it comes down to it, I will kick your fucking ass if you step over the line with her.”

Some of the fire that his parents had tried to destroy inside of him flared to life. “What if she chose me? I mean, you’re not exactly her favorite person these days.”

I had an instant memory of her when we fucked in the bathroom. The way her pussy contracted on my cock as she shattered in my arms. Her eyes as she stared dead into mine, not blinking, just giving me every part of her. I understood what Dylan meant. Sometimes it felt like I was staring right the fuck into her soul, and it was everything light and beautiful in the world. Unlike mine.

When I was fucking Riley, I had no doubt that I was the only person on her mind. But Dylan had a shit load to offer as well, and if Riley decided he was it for her, I wasn’t sure what the fuck I would do.

I wasn’t going to let him know that though.

Crossing my arms, I nudged my shoulder against the wall, and shot him my “are you fucking serious, asshole?” look. It was a look that had caused lesser men to cry.

“When has Riley ever gone to you?”

I was being a dick, especially since I could tell that he cared for her. Not as much as I did, but enough to make this one difficult situation. Because I wanted someone to love Dylan, he deserved that and so much more, but it couldn’t be Riley.

The melancholy faded from Dylan’s face and he straightened. “We really don’t need to have this conversation, Beck. I know Riley is yours. Fuck. The girl is so gone on you, even when she was mad as hell at us. I don’t begrudge you having her. It’s just a thing … I’ll get over it.”

The smallest niggle of tension remained between us, and I tried to figure out what to say to make it better, but I was starting to think there was nothing I could say. Only time would help with this. Time where Dylan hopefully didn’t fall more in love with my captivating girl.

“You wanna play some music?” Dylan asked, suddenly. I schooled my face, something I’d been able to do since I was a young child, but that request worried me. It had been a long time since he’d asked me to play for him. A long time since his demons had almost destroyed him and he barely slept. Back when we were younger, I’d play music for him all the time. It was about the only time he slept.

“Sure,” I said easily, striding over to grab my favorite at our place here: a vintage Gibson Hummingbird. I spent a few minutes tuning it before I settled back into one of the padded arm chairs.

“Any requests?” I asked him, my head already down as I strummed.

Dylan dropped into a chair across from me. “Jesse’s Girl?” he said, shooting me a shit-eater grin.

A low chuckled left me. “Appropriate.” I knew he’d been somewhat joking, but I strummed the opening chords anyway. I’d always had a natural ear for music, something my father had tried to beat out of me, because that was for “fuckboys that wear eyeliner and live on a street corner.” And maybe it was this reason I’d pushed so hard to keep going with lessons. Why I’d threatened to kill him in his sleep if he ever touched any of my guitars. Anything to piss off senior Beckett.

But, truthfully, I was pretty sure I’d lose my mind without it in my life.

I started to sing and Dylan leaned back and closed his eyes. I didn’t look at him, preferring to go into my own head when I sang. Although, I also couldn’t help but remember the last time when Riley had heard me.

The look on her face made me want to sing for fucking ever. Just so I could see that look again.

Fuck. That girl had me tied up in knots. She was ripping the fabric of my world to shreds, and I couldn’t even find it in myself to care anymore.

Whatever it brought, I would take this time with Riley. It would be worth the bloodshed that I knew was in my future.

When I finished Jesse’s Girl, I didn’t pause, transitioning straight into another one of Dylan’s favorites: November Rain.

His breathing started to deepen when I was halfway through that song, and it was just like when I kept Riley’s dreams at bay. There was a deep seated satisfaction in doing something non-violent to help the people I cared about.

My entire life was one fucked up circumstance, violence, death, fear, threats, money. That was it. Then there were moments like these, and I wondered if we’d ever get out. Whether there would be more than just a few glimpses of light in all of the darkness. Before Riley, I’d resigned myself to Delta. To this world.