"You can come in and stay till the storm dies off," Ruth told him in a stern, don't-fuck-with-me tone. "But if Brooke doesn't wanna go with you come morning, you leave. No arguments. Are we clear?"
Dylan shot me a quick look, then returned his gaze to Ruth with a nod. "Yes, ma'am. Understood."
She narrowed her eyes at him for a moment, then stepped aside to let him into her home. Fucking hell, it was like the room instantly shrank by at least half.
"Head on through to the sitting room," Ruth told us. "I'll prepare the guest room for you, Brooke. Your friend can sleep on the couch."
Dylan's brows flicked up as he ripped his intense stare away from me. "I'm so sorry, ma'am; I didn't introduce myself. I'm Dylan—"
"Dylan Grant," she cut him off. "I'm old, not stupid. I know full damn well who you are, son." The grim set to her mouth and small frown indicated she knew who he was and didn't approve.
Clearing my throat, I awkwardly made my way through to Ruth's sitting room, where a fire crackled in the open fireplace. I didn't just assume Dylan would follow me, but he did nonetheless, like a huge shadow echoing my footsteps.
I chose one of the big, overstuffed armchairs so he couldn't sit beside me. But he just took a seat on the sofa directly opposite instead, and maybe that was worse. I couldn't escape his gaze when he was staring straight at me.
"Why are you here, Dylan?" I asked in a soft voice when the tension became too much for me to bear. I was sitting with my hands tucked under my thighs in an attempt to calm my tremors, but it wasn't doing a whole lot of good. "How did you even find me?"
One of his black brows quirked. "Seriously?"
I frowned. "Yes, seriously. Do you have a tracking device on me or something?"
He shook his head. "No, of course not. But you didn't exactly hide your tracks well, Brooke. It wasn't a hard trail to follow when you were seen by so many people at Walmart. Warde is the closest town to camp, and it’s tiny. Strangers stand out."
Well, now I felt stupid. "Oh."
"What areyoudoing here, Brooke? You ran away from camp right before a snowstorm was due to hit. Do you have a death wish or something?" His frown was deepening into a scowl, and his nostrils flared with anger.
I let out a bitter laugh. "Leavingmeans I have a death wish? No offense, Dylan, but staying seemed like a considerably worse option for me. Your girlfriend is way too bloodthirsty for my liking, and she had absolutely no interest in my innocence."
His frown darkened. "How many times do I have to tell you that I'm not in love with Riley? I love her, yes, but as a good friend. Same as how I love Beck, Jasper, and Evan. They're my family, Brooke. You're—"
"An easy lay," I finished for him with a sneer. "Heard, loud and clear. So why thefuckare you here? Or do you seriously think I know where those files are?"
Dylan was out of his seat in a flash, moving faster than any man his size had the right to. A split second later he was on his knees on the carpet in front of me, his face inches from mine.
He didn't touch me, but it didn't matter. His fingers were tight on the arms of my chair and his breath mingled with mine as we stared into each other's eyes for a heavy moment.
"That'snotwhat I was going to say, Brooke," he informed me in a deathly quiet voice. "Don't you dare put words in my mouth."
Fuck. I swallowed heavily but couldn't bring myself to push him away.
"Riley and the other heirs are my family, but you're somethingelse. I can't even explain what it is that I'm feeling for you, little bird, but the second I realized you'd run, I just..." He trailed off, shaking his head like he could hardly understand his own actions. "I panicked. I couldn't stop picturing what would happen to you if you were caught in the storm, and it'd be all my fault."
My mouth was so dry, like my panic had evaporated all the moisture in my whole damn body, so my voice was scratchy when I replied. "Yeah, it would have been."
Shock flickered over his features, and his eyes widened. "Did you find some sass while you were out in the cold, beautiful?" A small smile pulled at his full lips, and I was sorely tempted to punch him right in the handsome face. How dare he joke around right now?
My brow furrowed into a scowl. "Fuck you, Dylan. It'd be your fault because you treated me likeshitback at camp with your friends. I may be a broken bird, but I deserve better than that."
The amusement slipped from his face, leaving behind regret and guilt. As close as we were, there was no mistaking his expression now that he wasn't hiding from me.
"I was trying to keep you safe, Brooke. I know it sounded harsh, but—"
"Soundedharsh? No, you called me a mouseanda dog in less than ten minutes, then outlined to your best friends how utterly pathetic and incapable I am—while I sat right there and cried. You're an arrogant, selfish prick, Dylan Grant. I can't believe I actually thought I was falling for you." I did shove him away from me this time, or tried to, at least.
Even with my hands flat against his chest, he barely swayed back a couple of inches.
"You're in love with me?" His voice was shocked and his expression like a deer in headlights.
