The bell jingled above the door as a couple strolled in and sat at a table in the front. I squinted to get a closer look, and my stomach bottomed out. Dylan and his ex-girlfriend, Jeannine, huddled over the table top, speaking in whispers. I sat, frozen, as my eyes stayed glued to every move they made. Another great thing about this table was that although no one could see me, I saw everything. I inched off my seat, almost in slow motion, as I crept over, settling at the table behind them unnoticed.
"I still don't know why you can't return a text," Jeannine whined as she glided her finger over Dylan's forearm. His back was facing me, and she didn't notice my eyes boring into her. To my relief, he jerked it away, but I still hated every bit of what I was seeing.
"Why couldn't you come to my apartment to get it? You remember where I live, right?" She batted her long, beautiful eyelashes at Dylan.
Because he’s with me. That’s why.
I wanted to scream it out loud, claim the man I loved in front of his ex-girlfriend, the three people that stumbled into the coffee shop, and everyone on the sidewalk. He. Was. Mine. Holding it in was nudging me toward madness, inch by inch.
"Because I don't want to talk to you, but you insist I left stuff at your place months ago. Just give it to me, and we can be done."
Every time I’d seen him during the fifteen months he was with her—not that I was counting—I was reminded of how she was everything I wasn't. Gorgeous, tall, an adult. Compared to anyone, I was tiny, but gazing at her and Dylan, I was an insignificant kind of small. The insecurities swirling around in my head compounded the pressure of keeping what I had with Dylan a secret were messing with my sanity.
My coffee tasted like battery acid as I forced a gulp down my throat. I was still a kid. A teenager. He'd been with gorgeous women like Jeannine, so why would he want to have sex with me?
"I heard you're with someone," Jeannine taunted. "A little bit of a thing with auburn hair. If I didn't know better, I'd say you were with Jack's little sister." Her head fell back as she cackled.
Tell her, Dylan,my insides cried out, as if he could somehow hear.Tell her you're with me and you love me. Say it!
I no longer cared if the grapevine led right to my parents. I wanted him to say I was his in front of everyone, or at least someone.
"Who I'm with is none of your damn business," he clipped in exasperation as he held out his hand. "Give me the bag of whatever it is you insisted I have back so I can get on with my day."
"PJ, since when do you leave your table?" Tommy laughed as he nudged my shoulder. It was loud enough for Dylan to whip his head around at the sound of my name. His eyes widened as they locked with mine, his shoulders stiffening as he probably realized I'd heard every word.
"I'm gonna go, Tom." I grabbed my coffee and pad and jumped up from the table so fast the chair screeched under me. "I promise I'll come back in soon."
Racing outside before the sobs started, I got as far as the corner before Dylan grabbed my wrist and spun me around.
"Look at me," he commanded, but I wouldn't.
"I don't want you to see me like this. Just let me go," I pleaded but his hold wouldn't budge.
"No, baby. Not happening. I don't know what you thought you saw. She insisted—"
"I know nothing is going on. You don't have to explain." I kept my gaze on the ground until he took my face in his hands.
"So why are you running from me, sweet girl?" The hint of a smile danced across his lips and I almost slumped against him. I loved him so much. Too much. What the hell was I letting happen to me? I was becoming the spineless, needy girl I never wanted to be.
"Why couldn't you say it was true? That you were with me? Why won’t you have sex with me? Are you …” I gulped, willing the tears back into my eyes so I could speak. "Are you ashamed … of me?”
Dylan’s eyes widened as he shook his head. “What? No! PJ, are you kidding me? I love you, you know that. I love you more than I know how to handle, but I told you, I'm trying to do this right." He stepped closer and enveloped me into his arms. "Do you really think it's not killing me? To not be inside you every time I'm with you?"
"You can be," I breathed, my voice laced with desperation. "I want you. I want it to be you." My eyes darted from his. "Maybe I'm not what you're used to. I'm not enough."
He laughed and drew me closer.
"Patricia, you're definitely not what I'm used to, and you're not enough. You're way more than enough. You're so past enough that it hurts to look at you sometimes. Thinking of you anywhere but with me drives me out of my skull. And ..." He sifted his hand into my hair and grabbed a fistful to make me look up. "Itwillbe me. And no one else after.Ever.Got it?"
I laughed until I spotted Jeannine gawking at us over Dylan's shoulder.
"Um, Dylan." I jutted my chin to where she was standing. "She's watching."
I gasped when he pulled me toward him by my waist.
"Good."
Before I knew it, his mouth was on mine and the only thing I could do was kiss him back just as hard. My heart burst as butterflies took flight in my stomach—some ecstatic, some terrified.
