He pauses to let that sink in. I’m hooked on his every word, flashes of a little lost Dylan playing through my mind.
“He was a wonderful dad. When he was present,he was present. He gave one hundred percent. But he still missed things. Important things. And when he finally retired, he promised us the world, only to die less than a year later. I don’t want that for my family.”
I flinch involuntarily at his words, but he doesn’t notice. He’s too lost in thought. I’m about to speak, attempt to offer him some sort of comfort, when he continues.
“When Joel called me the other night, to tell me about what happened to you,“—he pauses and runs a hand down his face—“Summer, it nearly killed me. All my fears… You were hurting, and I wasn’t…” His voice wavers with emotion as he trails off.
My chest tightens, and my pulse races. I bite my cheek to stave off any other emotional reaction. This conversation is exactly what I was avoiding while lying in his bed. I’m not good with feelings, and mine are out of control.
“Anyway.” Dylan clears his throat and continues, “I never apologized for how I acted that night. I’m sorry. I was just caught off guard.”
“Apology accepted,” I say and then quickly repeat the second part of my question to change the subject.
He huffs out a breath and then leans back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest. It’s a defensive stance I’ve seen him use before. “It’s easier not to talk about it because people tend to try and convince me to change my mind. Joel included. They don’t get it.”
“I do,” I say and watch as his shoulders deflate in relief. I do get it; I’m not lying about that, but... “Doesn’t mean I’m not going to try and convince you to change your mind. You have talent.” Too much talent to throw it all away, especially when he doesn’t even have the family he’s so worried about protecting.
When my words register, Dylan’s walls come back up. “That’s not the point,” he says bitterly, like he’s said it a million times before, and he probably has. I should just leave it alone. God, if he tried to offer his opinion on my life, I wouldn’t be happy about it. All the reasoning makes sense. And if he goes pro, he might find himself in some of the very situations he’s concerned about. It’s unavoidable. But I have a gut feeling that I need to say these words. I don’t know why, but I do.
“I know. I understand what you are saying,” I begin, easing my way into it. “From someone who’s completely lost her family, I get why you’d want to spend all your time with yours.” I pause, having just spoken about my family, out loud, for the first time. I hate the look of pity that crosses Dylan’s face. I know he doesn’t mean it. He wasn’t expecting my honesty. But it still hurts to think people assume my life is less because my family isn’t in it. I’m coping. I’m making do.
“Having said that,” I continue, and bring the focus back to Dylan. “I don’t think you should rule it out just yet. You don’t know who you’ll end up with. Maybe she’ll be a football reporter who travels with you and brings the kids along. I mean, it’s not like baseball or hockey where the travel schedule is insane, and if it was me, I’d want you…”Shit! Where did that come from?“Never mind, I don’t know. Point is…don’t rule it out.”
Dylan’s ocean-blue eyes penetrate mine as he stares me down for a second. He’s looking for something, but what, I can’t say. He finally releases a breath and runs a hand through his hair, huffing out a small laugh. “I’ll think about it, okay?”
I release my own breath and smile. “That’s all I ask.”
We sit in silence, enjoying our dessert, until a puzzled expression crosses Dylan’s face. He holds his hand up in a half wave and then shakes his head as a tight smile graces his face. I follow his gaze and spot a stunning woman beaming at him like he’s the best person in the world. I’m surprised when a slight sting of jealousy hits me, even though it’s not the first time I’ve felt thisuncomfortable feeling.Shit!I need to get things under control.
When the girl reaches our table, her eyes find mine, and instead of looking smug, or annoyed, or jealous, her features brighten in surprise and maybe even a bit of excitement.I’m so confused.
“Is this Summer?” she asks, looking toward Dylan. He gives her a pissy look and then recovers.
“Yep…thanks,” he huffs and shakes his head with an expression I can’t decipher.
The woman laughs and sits down at our table, forcing Dylan to move his chair right next to mine. Without permission, that little niggle of jealousy rises again as she smiles his way. “God, Dylan was right. You really are gorgeous. I’m Lucy.”
Lucy?I move my gaze between them, and it hits me.How did I miss the resemblance?This is Lucy. Dylan’s sister. And now the hint of embarrassment makes sense. Dylan’s “thanks” was sarcastic. He didn’t want me to know he’d talked about me.Why does that make me feel good?
Lucy reaches over and grabs my hand, and I force myself to ignore the urge to pull away since I know she’s trying to be nice. “I’m so happy to meet you.”
“What are you doing here?” Dylan says through slightly clenched teeth.
“Collecting takeout. Ididintroduce you to this place. Anyway, I saw you here and…” She shrugs.
“So you thought you’d stop by and interrupt? Well, by all means, join us,” Dylan says, his voice laced with teasing sarcasm.
Lucy just grins before looking at me. “Sorry, is that okay?”
“Of course,” I reply, offering a warm smile that I hope she buys. It’s a little awkward, but I must admit, it’s fun to see Dylan a little off balance.
Spending time with Lucy and Dylan is not at all what I would have expected. They come across as friends more than siblings, and have a comfortable relationship that has my chest filling with jealousy once more. I had that. Their teasing banter reminds me so much of what mine and Thomas’s was like that it hurts a little to witness. But, it’s been nice getting to know Lucy and hearingrealstories about Dylan’s childhood, opposed to the ones we’ve been making up. God, can she talk. It’s only been twenty minutes, and I have so much new information to process.
“I hear you’re a big NSYNC fan as well,” Lucy says, changing the subject. I’m a little uncomfortable with how much she knows about me, but hide my thoughts. “I’m so glad Dylan finally has someone around who understands good music; he could learn a thing or two,” she continues, pointing to Dylan with a laugh. “Has he told you what he used to listen to in middle school? Aqua anyone?”
Dylan puts his arm around my shoulder and pulls me in tight. “Come on, you both know I have great taste in music. ‘Barbie Girl’ was a hit, and that singer was hot. This ganging up on me better be a one-off.”It definitely won’t be.
Lucy and I manage to talk about embarrassing Dylan stories for the next ten minutes while we wait for her order. Dylan grumbles beside me, alternating between squeezing my leg or poking my ribs whenever I can’t stop laughing. He may appear annoyed, but he’s not fooling anyone. I can see the small smile he’s trying to hide.