The Hardest Fall(82)

“Dylan,” she moaned, triggering another thrust of my hips. Her skin was burning under my lips as I kissed the little spot right under her ear and felt her shiver.

Removing her hands from mine, she grabbed my forearm with one and placed the other on the wall. I kept my hands on her thighs and pushed both of my thumbs right under the edge of her jeans and her underwear so I could pull her tighter, so we could fuse together and become one bundle of need. She rolled her hips back against me.

“Fuck, Zoe. Don’t do that.”

I lifted one of my hands and gripped her chin, slowly turning it toward my lips. We were both breathing hard when my mouth touched the edge of hers. She let out a small groan and with another roll of her hips, my dick wanted out and in her.

Just when I was about to claim her lips and lose myself in what was probably going to be the best fucking kiss of my life, someone called her name and we both froze.

Zoe gulped.

Unfortunately for us, we heard the same voice again and had to reluctantly step away from each other.

Instead of turning around like Zoe had done immediately after the second call, I faced the wall and adjusted my dick before looking over my shoulder to see Zoe talking with Kayla. I took a deep breath, willed my heart to slow the fuck down, and turned to casually lean back against the wall. When Zoe came back, I took in her flushed cheeks and parted lips—all because of me, all for me.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, my voice all kinds of fucked up, and I realized it was taking a whole lot of effort to keep my hands to myself.

“Something…I’m not sure,” she replied, her eyes rising to mine for the first time. “She wants to leave, but Keith isn’t listening. Something is wrong with them. I need to go.”

I straightened from the wall. “I’ll come with you.”

Shaking her head, she touched my arm then quickly pulled it back.

“She won’t talk to me if you’re there. She called an Uber and I’m going to go with her.”

“You won’t come home?”

“I…I don’t know. I’ll text you if I can.”

Fuck.

“We need to talk, Dylan,” she said quietly, voicing exactly what was going through my mind. Yes, we needed to talk, badly, but first, we needed to do other things—quenching the thirst I had for her being the first item on the list.

“Tomorrow. We’ll figure everything out tomorrow. If you can come back, call me and I’ll come get you.”

“You don’t have to do that. I’ll call an Uber or just walk. It’s not that far away from the apartment.”

I closed the distance between us and tucked her hair behind her ear so I could kiss her temple. “Call me—I don’t want you out on your own so late, definitely not walking.”

A quick nod as she stared into my eyes, and then she was walking away from me.





Chapter Nineteen





Zoe





“Hi,” I said as I answered my phone. If I sounded a little breathless, it had nothing to do with the fact that I was speed-walking—and occasionally hopping to avoid puddles—to the library to meet Kayla and Jared, and everything to do with who was on the other end of the line.

“Zoe.”

I had to close my eyes, not because the rain was picking up, but because of him, because of what he did to me. Was there anything better than hearing Dylan’s morning voice mumble my name on the phone? I didn’t think so—or maybe there was; hearing him mumble my name right against my ear would do it too. In fact, it would do it way better.

“You came home and didn’t wake me up,” he continued as I tried to recover from what his voice was doing to me. The previous night was still fresh in my mind, and I could still feel his body pressing against mine, how I eager I’d been.

The damn had broken.

“It was pretty late. You looked tired, so I didn’t want to wake you up.” I’d snuck by and tiptoed to my room after finding him asleep on the couch, but I had thrown a blanket on him…so that counted for something.

Knowing what would happen, what we’d end up doing if I did wake him up had prevented me from continuing where we’d left off.

You might call me a chicken; I call myself smart.

I didn’t want to have to lie to him—or depending on what you thought, I didn’t want to have to keep lying to him. I didn’t have a boyfriend; that was what I’d told him, and it was the truth. Sure, I was forcing it a little bit since I’d never had a boyfriend to begin with, but still, I didn’t have a boyfriend, and I would tell him the rest—really, I would. As I’d guessed, he thought I had something going on with Mark, and who could’ve blamed him for coming to that conclusion, for God’s sake? It was all on me, and I knew that.

So, in a few hours or so, depending on what Kayla wanted to talk about, I’d call Mark—or better yet, text him—not to ask permission, but just so he wasn’t blindsided completely in case Dylan said something to him about it. I’d given him Chris, had let him decide on the best time to tell him, but Dylan was mine. He wouldn’t have that. I wouldn’t let him decide when or how where Dylan was concerned.

There was also the fact that Chris was Dylan’s best friend, and thinking about that had kept me up all night. Would Dylan run and tell Chris who I was? He was his best friend—could I ask him to keep me a secret? Would he? Did I even have the right to ask him?