Page 114
Story: Wildest Dreams
“Wow. You’re really selling it to me now.” Dylan’s signature eye roll made a comeback, and she snatched a cocktail from the table, taking a sip.
“Too bad,” Cal sighed. “My favorite trope is why choose.”
“Choose, because otherwise all the candidates will die at my hands.” Row flashed her a polite smile. “Is that a good enough reason?”
“Know what?” Dylan stood up. “I was about to grab a bite here, check out the restaurant, but I think I’ll just eat something at home. I’m tired.”
“I’ll grab a cab with you.” I shot up to my feet.
Dylan glared at me in disbelief. “You’re the reason I’m leaving, asshole.”
“Is there a point somewhere in your sentence?” I arched a brow.
“They loathe each other.” Row swept invisible sweat from his brow. “Now I can relax.”
Dylan and I were in the middle of a no-blink match. She lost.
“You can’t leave.” She threw her hands in the air, exasperated. “This whole party is for you.”
“The point of the night is to do whatever I want,” I explained to her slowly, “and what I want is to bicker with you to death in our Uber, which arrives in about”—I glanced at my phone clock (fuck the Apple Watch—I’d rather go commando)—“three minutes, so we need to hurry the fuck up.”
“You called us an Uber?” Her jaw dropped in shock.
“Would you rather walk in those heels?” My glare dropped down to the two needles that supported her. “Because I’m fine watching you squirt.”
“What did you just say?” Row growled.
“Squat,” I lied.
“No, you didn’t,” Row accused.
Dylan snickered. That was what I wanted. To get a smile out of her.
“Yes, I did. Okay, we’re out of here.” I saluted everyone, placed a hand on the small of her back, and herded her outside.
Once we were in the fresh air, I immediately dropped the smart-ass façade. “Fine. I fucked up. I shouldn’t have assumed.” I raised my hands. “It’s just that…Cosmos, you’re so much better than whatever job you’re aiming for these days. I’m not sayingthat in a patronizing, I-know-better-than-you way. I’m saying it because I know, deep down, you agree with that statement. You were born to do something great. And I want that for you. I really want that for you.” I rubbed my cheekbone. “Like, I don’t even know why I’m so invested in this.”
“Maybe the wall of ice around your heart is finally thawing.” She knotted her arms over her chest.
“You’re right. That might be it. Fucking global warming.”
“Sorry I got super mad at you,” she sighed. “I’m a little prickly about, you know, the future.”
The Uber arrived in perfect time. The temperature between us dropped to something manageable. We both slipped into the back seat and greeted our driver.
“So do you wanna come over to my place for that…um, thing you promised me?” Dylan turned to look at me, blushing.
Fuck, I wanted to. There was nothing I wanted more than to eat her cum-glazed donut hole. Even if it meant I might spend the night there. I wanted to explore it. What can I say? She’d broken me. Or maybe it was the opposite. She’d pieced me back together into someone who actually wasn’t shit-scared of relationships.
“I can’t,” I found myself grunting. “I need to take Fluffy and Mittens out. They never do their business on their pads. Vindictive assholes, just like my parents.”
“I still can’t believe you own dogs called Fluffy and Mittens,” Dylan snorted.
“I don’t own them.” I glowered. “I’m putting them up for adoption.”
“You let them sleep in your bed.”
“It’s the only way they don’t whimper and let me actually fucking sleep,” I protested.
“Too bad,” Cal sighed. “My favorite trope is why choose.”
“Choose, because otherwise all the candidates will die at my hands.” Row flashed her a polite smile. “Is that a good enough reason?”
“Know what?” Dylan stood up. “I was about to grab a bite here, check out the restaurant, but I think I’ll just eat something at home. I’m tired.”
“I’ll grab a cab with you.” I shot up to my feet.
Dylan glared at me in disbelief. “You’re the reason I’m leaving, asshole.”
“Is there a point somewhere in your sentence?” I arched a brow.
“They loathe each other.” Row swept invisible sweat from his brow. “Now I can relax.”
Dylan and I were in the middle of a no-blink match. She lost.
“You can’t leave.” She threw her hands in the air, exasperated. “This whole party is for you.”
“The point of the night is to do whatever I want,” I explained to her slowly, “and what I want is to bicker with you to death in our Uber, which arrives in about”—I glanced at my phone clock (fuck the Apple Watch—I’d rather go commando)—“three minutes, so we need to hurry the fuck up.”
“You called us an Uber?” Her jaw dropped in shock.
“Would you rather walk in those heels?” My glare dropped down to the two needles that supported her. “Because I’m fine watching you squirt.”
“What did you just say?” Row growled.
“Squat,” I lied.
“No, you didn’t,” Row accused.
Dylan snickered. That was what I wanted. To get a smile out of her.
“Yes, I did. Okay, we’re out of here.” I saluted everyone, placed a hand on the small of her back, and herded her outside.
Once we were in the fresh air, I immediately dropped the smart-ass façade. “Fine. I fucked up. I shouldn’t have assumed.” I raised my hands. “It’s just that…Cosmos, you’re so much better than whatever job you’re aiming for these days. I’m not sayingthat in a patronizing, I-know-better-than-you way. I’m saying it because I know, deep down, you agree with that statement. You were born to do something great. And I want that for you. I really want that for you.” I rubbed my cheekbone. “Like, I don’t even know why I’m so invested in this.”
“Maybe the wall of ice around your heart is finally thawing.” She knotted her arms over her chest.
“You’re right. That might be it. Fucking global warming.”
“Sorry I got super mad at you,” she sighed. “I’m a little prickly about, you know, the future.”
The Uber arrived in perfect time. The temperature between us dropped to something manageable. We both slipped into the back seat and greeted our driver.
“So do you wanna come over to my place for that…um, thing you promised me?” Dylan turned to look at me, blushing.
Fuck, I wanted to. There was nothing I wanted more than to eat her cum-glazed donut hole. Even if it meant I might spend the night there. I wanted to explore it. What can I say? She’d broken me. Or maybe it was the opposite. She’d pieced me back together into someone who actually wasn’t shit-scared of relationships.
“I can’t,” I found myself grunting. “I need to take Fluffy and Mittens out. They never do their business on their pads. Vindictive assholes, just like my parents.”
“I still can’t believe you own dogs called Fluffy and Mittens,” Dylan snorted.
“I don’t own them.” I glowered. “I’m putting them up for adoption.”
“You let them sleep in your bed.”
“It’s the only way they don’t whimper and let me actually fucking sleep,” I protested.
Table of Contents
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