“They really like having you around,” I say as he swings a leg over the bike. So fucking sexy.
“What’s not to like?” he jokes as he grabs his helmet from the back. “Meet you at my place?” he asks after leaning in for a quick kiss.
“Be there in ten,” I kiss him back. As I watch him pull away, a ball of nervousness knots in my stomach thinking about what I have waiting for him when we get there.
The warm summer sun heats my back on the ride home. Knowing that Dylan will be there waiting for me warms my heart. The conversation I had with Rachel earlier this afternoon plays through my head along with the sounds of my bike thrumming through the street.
“Yes, I am,” she declared, adding a huff and puff for extra emphasis.
“Rach,” I stood from my chair in frustration, “what if–”
She cut me off, throwing her hand up in the air. “What? What if I get hurt again? What if Caleb comes back?” Sarcasm hung heavily on each word. “Conner,” her tone softened, calling me back to my seat at her side. “This,” she pointed to her head, “was a freak thing. The doctors are giving me a great prognosis and I’ve already scheduled more appointments for follow ups and second opinions than I thought I would have in my entire life,” she rambled, exhausted by her new reality.
“What about Caleb?” My teeth clenched in anger just thinking about what he did to her, what he did to me.
“What about him, Con? He hasn’t found us yet, and honestly, I don’t think he’s looking for us.” She pulled my hand into hers. “I need to be able to live my life and you need to be able to live yours.”
“It’s worked so far.” I tried but failed to get her to see my point.
She shook her head, laughing at my simple response. “But it can’t work forever. I need to move out, get my own place, and stand on my own two feet.” Her eyes begged me to understand, pleaded with me to agree. It was pointless to argue. She was right and she knew it.
“You have Dylan now, anyway,” she added, with a touch of hopefulness in her tone, as if she were simply dangling that statement out there to see if I’d bite.
Hook, line, and sinker, I took the bait. Nodding and smiling, I said, “You’re right.”
“I’m right that I should move out or that you love Dylan?” She arched an eyebrow and shot me a look.
I looked at my watch. “I gotta go. The game is going to start soon.” My attempt at deflection was only met with another pointed stare. Arms crossed in silence, she wasn’t going to let me leave without answering her.
“Yes,” I said. She waved her hands, signaling me to carry on and say what she already knew. “To both.” I smiled and waved goodbye, feeling lighter for having admitted my feelings to someone.
She said goodbye, a cat-who-ate-the-canary look plastered to her face. “Have fun.” Her singsong voice bounced off my back and I got the distinct feeling that Rachel knew exactly what she was doing through that entire conversation.
All feelings of happiness vanish as I round the corner to my block and my complex comes into view. Dylan’s car is already parked out front, in what’s become his usual spot. He’s already out of the car and up on the front steps, where he’s locked in an obvious argument with the one person I’d really hoped to never see again.
Austin.
My jaw almost cracks under the pressure of clenching it so tightly. I’m surprised I’m able to park my bike and kill the engine without crashing. With frayed nerves and a white-knuckle grip on my helmet, I charge up the flight of fifteen stairs and step in between the two men.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” Facing Austin, I feel Dylan’s pained stare on my back.
“Who the hell is he?” Austin points around me, the word “he” sounding like a curse spit from his mouth.
Dylan steps to my side, anger visible on him like a neon sign. “Who the hell are you?” Each word is carefully calculated, laced with venom.
“Doesn’t matter to you,” Austin dismisses Dylan, talking to him as if he’s an insect who needs to be stepped on. “I’m here to see Conner.” Austin reaches his hand out to me and I smack it to the side.
“Well, then I guess I’ll just leave you two alone,” Dylan moves to leave, but I pull him back.
“Stay,” lacing our fingers together, I keep him at my side. “Dylan, this is my ex. I have no fucking clue why he’s here. The last time I saw him at the opening for the gym, I told him I was done with him and that he needed to leave my life for good.”
Austin’s face morphs into one of disappointment and irritation. Dylan notices it and shoots me a confused look. “He’s pissed,” I explain, “because he’s a manipulative liar.”
What was irritation erupts into rage. His face turns bright red and Austin opens his mouth to defend himself. I stop him before he can even get a word out. “Don’t even fucking think about it.”
Turing to Dylan, I tell him of mine and Austin’s sordid past, of how Austin wanted nothing to do with me after I was injured and my career was over.
“Why are you telling me all of this now?” Some of the fury in Dylan’s face eases; his tone softens.
