We both laugh as I wriggle around unnaturally beneath him.“Stop, Dylan. I’m dying here.” I snort and cringe at the sound.
He laughs again and gives me one last jab in that little spot, now known as the forbidden zone. My hips bounce off the bed, straight into his groin, while my arms involuntarily reach out and grab his back, pulling him down into me. The movement stills us both.
Dylan pulls back slightly to look into my eyes, his face only a few inches from mine. I can feel his chest moving up and down, as his heavy breathing matches mine. We stare at each other, for how long, I don’t know, until he slowly lowers his face to mine. I screamdon’t do itin my mind, but do nothing to actually stop him.He closes his eyes and then lowers slowly until his soft lips meet mine with the faintest pressure. He pulls my lower lip between his own, sucking gently, before moving to the top, once, twice, and then repeating the movement a few more times. It feels good, so good. The whole thing lasts only a few seconds, but it’s enough. The butterflies inside me flutter at an alarming speed, and I feel like my heart is going to break through my chest. This is too much. Don’t get me wrong; I enjoy being physical with men,loveit. But this is something else, somethingdeeper.Something I don’t want. Shit! I can’t be here. I can’t do this.My body stiffens, and my breathing becomes shallow for an entirely new reason, as I consider the mess I’ve made.I’m no longer kissing Dylan back, and he notices. His lips gently caress mine one last time before he pulls back, scanning my face again with a small smile. And that smile breaks me.
I don’t know how to express the feelings I have about what just happened. Yes, I enjoyed it, but nothing more can come of it. It shouldn’t have happened. I’m at a loss for words. What does Dylan think this means? God, why did I kiss him back? Did I just completely screw up this friendship, before it really had a chance?
Breaking the silence, I speak before I’ve even formed the right words to say. “Dylan, I-”
“Yep, I was right,” he interrupts, shaking his head, a little lost in thought. “You’re a terrible kisser.” He laughs and rises off the bed, completely relaxed. “Come on, time to get up and start the day. I’m thinking…a greasy breakfast at Reilly’s.”
Just like that.I’d love to say he’s put my mind at ease, but while his words are reassuring, I can’t help but worry that one kiss changed everything.
Since ignoring my feelingsiswhat I do best, I shrug my shoulders, take a deep breath, and jump out of bed. “Breakfast sounds great,”I say with a smile, and after smoothing down my clothes, I follow him out the door.
Chapter Fifteen
Summer
Overthenextfewdays, our friendship returns to normal following the kiss. To say I’m relieved is an understatement. It was a brief detour from our friendship, but it’s over now, and no matter what I do or don’t feel, we’ve moved on.
If only that was all I had going on in my life, but the situation with Dylan has actually been the least of my worries. Calls from that stupid reporter have increased and started to jam up my phone on a daily basis, and I’m almost at my breaking point. I’m too nervous to listen to the voicemails but have kept a few saved on my phone in case I change my mind. Cory and Dylan can sense something’s up and both ask me about it regularly.Well, Dylan asks if my dickhead ex is still harassing me, but it’s still concern.I lieevery single time.
“Nope, must have been a one-off,” I’d say, with a shrug of my shoulders. Until now, ithadonly been the one guy, so I thought I could handle it, but whatever information they thought they had must have been good because more people were becoming interested in it. It’s getting out of control. Ignoring it is no longer an option. I should have expected this since it’s almost fall and the football season is gearing up. But I didn’t. And now, even turning my phone off just leads to a mild heart attack when I turn it back on. A million thoughts consume me. If they have any actual facts, I could,would, lose everything. The shame of what I’ve done rises to the surface, no longer contained in the box I’d locked it in. I have to do something before it is too late.But what?
It’s a casual Wednesday when it all comes to a head. Already late for class, I make a dash across campus to the west buildings. The west wing of Heartwood U is host to the original buildings erected when the college first opened, and the gothic-like structures are beyond stunning. Pointed arches grace the stone structures with large windows and intricate detailing across the doorways and roofline. I can’t help but get caught up in the beauty almost every time I walk by. But not today.
My walk quickens as I near the building, but comes to a halt when my phone vibrates in my pocket for the sixth time since arriving on campus. Curiosity gets the better of me, and I pull it out to check.Big mistake.What started as daily calls now looks like six missed calls and nine text messages in a matter of minutes. All different phone numbers. I’m sure all reporters. My heart races as the panic sets in. I’m frozen. In the open. With nowhere to hide.This isn’t happening. This can’tbe happening. I need air. Why can’t I get air?
Dropping to my knees, I jam the palms of my hands into my eyes to stop the tears and try to recall anything that might rid me of this panic attack.What is it I’m supposed to do? Count five things I can smell? Five I can see? Or hear? Or all of those? God, this isn’t helping. Breathe, Summer. Breathe. It will be okay. It has to be okay.I’m rocking slightly, but can’t control it. Nothing’s working.Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.
“Come on, Summer, breathe.”
Yes, breathe, Sum… Wait, what?A voice comes from above, entering my subconscious and making me more aware of my surroundings. There’s a hand on my shoulder, and another stroking my back.
“You’re okay. I’ve got you,” the voice says, and while calm, it holds an edge almost bordering on its own panic.
I try to focus, but I still can’t quite break free. “Breathe,” the voice whispers again, and this time, I recognize it.Dylan.
A second voice laced with urgency breaks through. “I’m going to get help.”
Idon’tneed help.I can do this.I will myself to focus and clear the fog. I don’t need any more witnesses.
“No, wait! I’m pretty sure she’s having a panic attack,” Dylan says, and I listen intently to his words. “Mom used to have them after Dad died, when the reporters wouldn’t leave her alone.”
Dammit.The mention of reporters pulls me down into the darkness once again. I don’t even know if they keep talking or if Dylan’s still rubbing my back. My mind drifts to other things. Back to that night.They can’t possibly know, can they? Am I actually going to relive it? Start over again? It’s bad enough that the rumors, as false as they are, were still floating around but…
Jesus!
A loud crack breaks my thoughts, and pain sears across the side of my face.Did Dylan just slap me? What in the world?Finally looking up from the ground, I find Cory staring down at me.
“You told me to slap you if that ever happened again.” She shrugs and smiles like it’s no big deal, like it didn’t kill her to do that. Cory’s a lover, not a fighter. When I’d told her to slap me after the last panic attack years ago, I never actually thought she’d do it. Props to her.
“Thank you,” I say, standing, as my breathing slowly returns to normal. Embarrassed, I quickly scan the area to see how much attention I’ve gathered, but we’re alone, Dylan and his friend no longer in sight.
“Where did Dylan go? I could have sworn—”
“They stayed until I arrived and then went to run interference on anyone heading this way. Class is still in session so traffic has been minimal.”