“Seriously. Why do you think Dante threatened you? A threat to one is a threat to all.”
“Weird.” I have no concept of what it’s like to be in a group, or a family.
“Yeah. But that’s the way it is.”
I guess each way of life has its pros and cons. If you’re in a group, you get the love but the responsibility. If you’re out, you get neither.
“Okay, guys. Sorry.” Dylan comes up and puts his arm around me. “Let’s go.”
* * *
“I think you should give it a little time, Lil,” Dylan says to Lilla from the front seat of the cab.
She and I are in the back together, and Lilla hasn’t shut up the entire ride home about Marcus and how much he wants it both ways. If I hear her say “have his cake and eat it, too” one more time, I’m going to scream.
“I know you say that, Dylan, but you don’t know what it feels like to be tossed aside like a bowl of soup,” she says.
“Bowl of soup?” I say to her.
Dylan catches my eye in the side mirror and chuckles.
“That’s fine, you two lovebirds,” Lilla says. “Just laugh at the single girl.”
“In all seriousness, though,” I say. “Please believe me when I say you deserve better than Marcus. He’s not treating you right, Lilla. You should be treated like the wonderful person that you are.”
Lilla sniffs. “I don’t know.”
“I do,” I say firmly. “Don’t settle for a guy who can’t decide if he wants to go out with you or his girlfriend. You know you’re better than that.”
When we reach the hotel, we say good-bye to Lilla in the lobby, and I confirm my check-out tomorrow with Leo, the attendant at the front desk.
“Yep. You’re all set,” he says after I flash my keycard at him.
“That’s it?” I stall. “Nothing for me to sign or anything?”
“Nope. Quick and easy,” he says.
My hand is shaking as I take the keycard back and turn around to look for Dylan. He’s sitting on a couch waiting for me while he signs an autograph for someone. And I know he’s not pressuring me, but it feels like everything is suddenly happening way too fast.
I head over to him. “All set.” I keep walking toward the elevators before he’s even gotten up off the couch.
“So,” Dylan says as he catches me, “where to?”
I don’t look at him as I press the up button for the elevator. “What do you think?”
He grabs my hand as the elevator doors open and we get in. “I think,” he says, bending down so he can look me directly in the face, “you seem a little anxious.”
“Let’s go to my room. It’s closer.”
“Jasalie.” His warm brown eyes meet mine. “Are you sure?”
The heat between my legs makes my answer easy. “Yes.”
His breath is tight and quick. “Me too.”
Chapter Eighteen
As soon as we step inside my room, Dylan’s lips touch mine, and I lose the tight rein I’ve held on my hormones.
