The Hardest Fall(115)

I looked up when I sensed Dylan coming down the stairs he’d told me led up to his boss’s office. My breath caught in my throat and my heart lurched. He was the best-looking guy in the world, at least he was in my eyes, and I’m pretty sure you’d agree with me if you saw him. His eyes never wavered, and I never looked away. He was wearing black slacks and a simple long-sleeved, dark gray t-shirt that had the bar’s logo on his right pec. He looked incredible, ready to be devoured. Basically, he looked and tasted better than pizza. He also looked like someone I’d never thought could be mine. He was the kind of guy who would get you pregnant just from looking at him for too long. When he made it to my side, he picked me up as if I weighed nothing and sat me down on the bar. I immediately put my palms down to steady myself then he opened my legs and sat between them on my empty stool. His hands moved up and down on my thighs, leaving goose bumps and shivers in their wake.

Having trouble stopping myself, I leaned down, put my hands on his shoulders, and kissed him, just a small, gentle kiss he easily turned into something more, leaving me breathless.

When he pulled back, I just stared at him with the biggest grin on my face. It was like seeing him for the first time and falling for him all over again. He was the dream, the one you always wanted to end up with, the other half of your soul, if you believed in that kind of thing. I was willing to bet Dylan Reed would check every single box every single woman had on their must-have list, and yet there he was, standing in front of me, smiling at me with a crooked grin.

“What? What’s that look for?” he asked, his hands moving again, more insistently this time around.

I laughed. “What look?”

He just kept staring into my eyes, and I melted a little more with every passing second.

“No one has ever looked at me like that before, you know,” I admitted, having a little trouble holding his gaze.

He moved closer—arms resting on my thighs, hands around my waist—and my eyes closed on their own. “Like what?” I felt him kiss the edge of my lips, then my cheek.

“Like…that,” I repeated lamely in a whisper against his lips.

He smiled then brushed a soft kiss right next to my ear. “Can you be a little more specific?”

“Nope.”

I felt his chuckle deep in my bones more than merely hearing it. “Okay.”

Then he kissed me. Our lips molded together, gently, nothing more than a whisper in the night, up until he spoke.

“You should keep me then. No one else can look at you the way I do.”

“That’s not what I said, was it?” I protested with a small smile of my own, and I opened my eyes to find him gazing up at me. My heart soared. “So cocky,” I whispered.

His thumb moved over my lip, but he didn’t look away from my eyes. “Keep me, Flash. I’m a good catch.”

I grinned, my heart skipping all over the place. “You know what? I think I will.”

His smile got bigger, and I felt out of my mind with happiness.

Hands still around my waist, he stood up. I held his face between my palms and rested my forehead against his. “I’m happy again,” I offered out of nowhere.

“Were you miserable without me?”

I thought it was just a throwaway question, didn’t think he expected me to give him an honest answer because he reached for my mouth again, but I pulled back before he could drown me in him.

“I was miserable, Dylan. I couldn’t sleep, couldn’t talk to you. Then when I could, after the last game, I couldn’t find you. You blocked me,” I accused him. “Not that I can blame you, but I guess I still will. I missed you. I missed you like I’ve never missed anyone in my life.” I put my palm on my heart and tried to ease the ache. “I have this ache, right here, and every morning I woke up these last two weeks, I would have this moment, that first second after I opened my eyes, where I thought, Get up, Zoe, get up and see Dylan. Get up and go to his bed. Get up and have breakfast with him—he’s waiting for you in the kitchen. Then I’d realize I couldn’t do any of that.”

Dylan looked at me, either taking in my words or deciding how to respond, or both. I wondered if I’d revealed too much of my feelings, not that I’d have cared if I had.

“I missed you more than I had any right to miss you, and it ate at me,” he said before the silence could become awkward. “I was so pissed at myself because I couldn’t even hate you. Do you realize how hard it was for me to work with him, knowing he got you and I didn’t? How hard it still is? You thought of me the moment you woke up, and I thought of nothing but you ever since. I hated that you’d do that to me, that you’d lie to me that way. When I saw you get in his car, I didn’t believe it, you know. I was sure you’d explain it, but when I came home and found you two…so close, and him touching you…”

“Can I tell you everything now?”

“Yeah, you have to, and please don’t leave anything out.”

“I won’t,” I promised, and knowing that everything would be okay after, that he’d still be standing right in front of me, I told him everything. I started from the very beginning, that first moment my mom told me about Mark and Chris, and finished with how I’d talked to Chris just days after he’d walked in on me and Mark arguing.

“I wanted to find you the next day, and I even called you, but you’d already blocked me. The more I thought about it, the more scared I got that he’d do something to mess with you on the field. The threat was there, and I have no idea if he’d have the power to do it. I wasn’t giving up on you, but I didn’t think running to you right after I left was the best idea either. I gave myself time, until the game, knowing I’d tell you after the Cactus Bowl—that I was sure of.”