42
“I’ll get it!” Ash hollers when the bell chimes, bounding out of her room and racing toward the front door of our apartment.
Audrey left yesterday morning, and I’ve been melancholy ever since. Her trip was too short, and I’m already missing her like crazy.
“Package came for you,” Ash says, strolling across the living room toward me. She sets it down on the table. “Wow, I love this color,” she exclaims, trailing her fingers along the deep blue satin material bunched around my sewing machine. “I love how there’s a hint of purple hidden underneath the blue. It makes it more vibrant.”
“I agree, and you have a good eye.” I snatch the large brown padded envelope up. “I should have your top finished by tonight so you can try it on and see if it fits,” I confirm, reaching for my scissors. Both of us have opted for quite daring dresses for the Trinity Ball. Mine is like a minidress under a full skirt with a slit right up the front and a plunging neckline that ends at my navel. Ash is wearing an emerald-green satin high-necked sleeveless crop top and matching full-length skirt that will look amazing with her strawberry-blonde pixie cut. Both dresses are ball-worthy in a nontraditional way.
Now my physical therapy has ended, and my hand is back to normal, I’m throwing myself into getting the dresses finished early as I’ll have to start studying in earnest next month. Exams are only seven weeks away, and I can’t believe how fast time is flying.
“It’s from Dillon,” Ash says, as I cut the opening of the envelope. I arch a brow. “I recognize his handwriting.”
I empty the contents of the package on the table, and my heart does a funny little dance. Lifting the shirt I wore on Paddy’s Day to my nose, I inhale the fresh lemony scent with a slight lump in my throat.
“Fucking hell. Dil must want in your knickers real bad, Viv.” Ash rummages through the myriad of Cadbury’s chocolate bars spread across the table, while I put the shirt down and inspect the small box of Lyon’s Tea.
A flash goes off, and I whip my head up to Ash. “What are you doing?”
“Taking photos because no one is going to believe my brother is capable of this shit without proof.”
“Do not share that!” I level her with my best “don’t mess with me” look. “This is super sweet, and you’re not going to tease him for it,” I warn.
“Aw. You’re no fun.” She swipes her fingers across the screen of her phone before thrusting it in my face. “Gone. See?”
“Why would he do this?” Dillon doesn’t seem like the type to make thoughtful gestures.
“In our house, we believe tea and chocolate can cure all ails.” She plucks the box of teabags from my hands. “Dil asked where you were last night, and I said you were missing Audrey too much to come out to party.” She perches her butt against the edge of the table. “He avoided the skanks last night too, and I know for a fact he went home alone, straight after their set.” Her blue eyes sparkle. “I think my brother likes you. Likereally, reallylikes you.”
“No need to throw a party,” I drawl, spotting the obvious glee on her face.
“Hey.” Her expression turns more solemn. “I didn’t mean to scare you.” She sinks onto the chair beside me. “Is it wrong that I’m giddy over the prospect of seeing two of my favorite people happy together?”
“I’m scared, Ash.” I examine my fingernails like they’re the most fascinating things. “Even more so after Paddy’s Day.”
“Tell me this.” She props her elbows on the table and her chin in her hands. “If it wasn’t for the groupies, would you give it a shot?”
I shrug. “Probably. Yes. I don’t know.”
“I understand why you’re afraid, but Dillon is not Reeve. People think because Dillon’s a dick he’s a disrespectful jerk, but he’s not. Our parents raised all the boys to be respectful of women. Dillon would never let those skanks hurt you or belittle you. He wouldn’t make excuses for them or his behavior.”
“I believe you, because he defended me and took care of me the other night.” When I was lying in bed the next morning, thinking over everything, I realized that. “And he accepted responsibility without me having to say anything. That was Reeve’s biggest failing. He always made me feel like I was somehow at fault.”
“I know Dillon has gotten with a lot of girls, but he treats them well. He never lies. He is always straight with them, ensuring they know it’s a onetime thing. Aoife is the only one I’ve known him to be with more than once, but he has told her straight up it’s just sex. I’ve no doubt she sticks around, hoping it will become more, but I know it won’t. She fucks the others thinking it will make him jealous, but Dillon never cares.”
“Why am I different?”
She shrugs, getting up and snatching the tea. “You’d have to ask Dillon that. Now, put your sewing shit away. You’re taking a break for tea and chocolate.”
* * *
I send Dillon a quick message thanking him for cleaning my shirt and for the tea and chocolate, and he sends me a brief “You’re welcome” message back. Neither of us engages in further conversation over the following week, but he doesn’t stray far from my thoughts. Reeve doesn’t either. I’m mulling over everything Audrey and Ash have said, and by the time Friday rolls around, I’m ready to get out of my head. Overanalyzing everything is driving me crazy, and avoiding Dillon isn’t going to make him magically evaporate from my brain. So, that’s how I find myself back at Whelans with Ash and Cat Friday night after swearing I was going to keep my distance last week.
“Is this seat taken?” Dillon asks, looming over me. Their set finished fifteen minutes ago, and we returned to our usual table in the corner, waiting for the band to show up.
“Depends on who’s asking?” I cheekily retort, trying not to ogle him too obviously. He’s wearing a Guns N’ Roses T-shirt today over dark jeans with his usual scuffed boots. His hair is even messier than usual, and my fingers twitch with a craving to run my hands through it. I honestly don’t know how I’m expected to keep my hands off him when he always looks good enough to eat.
“What if it’s me?” He flashes me that stupidly annoying hella sexy smug grin, and I’m a lost cause.