Ugly Love(46)

I know that with as much as I’m thinking about him, I shouldn’t be doing this. For something that’s supposed to be a casual thing, it’s felt anything but casual. For me, it’s been extremely involved. Intense, even. He’s pretty much all I’ve thought about since that night in the rain, and it’s quite pathetic that I’m reaching for the doorknob to walk inside my apartment and my damn hand is shaking, knowing he might be in there.
I open the door to the apartment, and Corbin is the first to look up. He nods but doesn’t even say hi. Ian waves from his seat on the couch, then looks back at the TV.
Dillon’s eyes roam up and down my body, and I do what I can to stop myself from rolling my eyes.
Miles doesn’t do anything, because Miles isn’t here.
My whole body sighs from disappointment. I drop my purse onto the empty chair in the living room and tell myself it’s a good thing he isn’t here, because I’ve got way too much homework to do anyway.
“There’s pizza in the fridge,” Corbin says.
“Nice.” I walk into the kitchen and open the cabinet to remove a plate. I hear footsteps closing in on me, and my heart rate kicks up a notch.
A hand touches me on my lower back, and I immediately smile and turn around to face Miles.
Only it isn’t Miles. It’s Dillon.
“Hey, Tate,” he says, reaching around me to the cabinet. The hand that first touched my lower back is still on me, but now that I’ve turned to face him, his hand has slid to my waist. He keeps his eyes locked with mine as he reaches past me and opens the cabinet. “Just need a cup for my beer,” he says, excusing the fact that he’s right here. Touching me. His face only inches from my face.
I hate that he saw me smiling when I turned around. I just gave him the wrong idea.
“Well, you won’t find a cup in my pocket,” I say, pushing his hand off of me. I look away from Dillon just as Miles steps into the kitchen. His eyes are burning holes into the part of me that Dillon was just touching.
Miles saw Dillon’s hand on me.
Miles is looking at Dillon now as if he just committed murder.
“Since when do you drink beer from a cup?” Miles says.
Dillon turns around and looks at Miles, then glances back to me and smiles a very blatant, flirtatious smile. “Since Tate was standing so close to the cabinet.”
Shit. He’s not even hiding it. He thinks I’m into him.
Miles walks to the refrigerator and opens it. “So Dillon. How’s your wife?”
Miles doesn’t make an attempt to remove anything. He’s just standing there, staring into the refrigerator, with his fingers gripping the door handle harder than it’s ever been gripped, I’m sure.
Dillon is still looking at me, staring down at me. “She’s at work,” he says pointedly. “For at least four more hours.”
Miles slams the refrigerator and takes two quick steps toward Dillon. Dillon stands up straight, and I immediately scoot two feet away from him. “Corbin specifically instructed you to keep your hands off his sister. Show him some f*cking respect!”
Dillon’s jaw twitches, and he doesn’t back down or look away from Miles. In fact, he takes a step toward him, closing the space between them. “Sounds to me like this isn’t really about Corbin,” Dillon says, seething.
My heart is pounding in my chest. I feel guilty that I gave Dillon the wrong idea and even guiltier that they’re arguing about it now. But dammit, I love that Miles hates him so much. I just wish I knew if it was because he doesn’t like that Dillon is flirting when he’s got a wife at home or if he doesn’t like that Dillon is flirting with me.
And now Corbin is standing in the doorway.
Shit.
“What isn’t really about me?” Corbin asks, watching the two of them in their standoff.
Miles backs up a step and turns so that he can face Dillon and Corbin at the same time. His eyes remain locked hard with Dillon’s. “He’s trying to f*ck your sister.”
Jesus Christ, Miles. Ever hear of sugarcoating?
Corbin doesn’t even flinch. “Go home to your wife, Dillon,” he says firmly.
As embarrassing as this is, I don’t do anything to step in and defend Dillon, because I get the feeling that Miles and Corbin have been looking for an excuse to defriend him for a while now. I would also never defend a man who has no respect for his marriage. Dillon stares at Corbin for several painstakingly long seconds, then turns to face me with his back to both Miles and Corbin.
This boy seriously has a death wish.
“I live in ten-twelve,” he whispers with a wink. “Stop by sometime. She works weeknights.” He turns away and walks between Corbin and Miles. “The two of you can go f*ck yourselves.”
Corbin turns, and his fists are clenched. He begins to stalk after Dillon, but Miles grabs his arm and pulls him back into the kitchen. He doesn’t release Corbin’s arm until the front door slams shut.
Corbin turns to face me, and he looks so angry I’m surprised steam isn’t coming from his ears. His face is red, and he’s popping his knuckles. I forgot how insanely protective he is of me. I feel like I’m fifteen again, only now I suddenly have two overprotective brothers.
“Erase that apartment number from your head, Tate,” Corbin says.
I shake my head, somewhat disappointed that he would even think I’d want to remember Dillon’s apartment number. “I have standards, Corbin.”
He nods, but he’s still making an attempt to calm himself down. He inhales a deep breath, pops his jaw, then walks back into the living room.