Page 31 of Reality With You (Arden Beach #1)

“He loves you,” Lennon said with certainty.

“That’s not conditional on baseball. Maybe he just doesn’t know any other way to express it.

” While she focused on their hands, Dylan focused on her.

“When you were in the hospital unconscious that night, you should’ve seen him.

He was a wreck. Wouldn’t leave the place, kept harassing all the doctors for updates.

He barely slept. I don’t think he would’ve done that for any of the other players on the team. ”

Dylan’s hand tensed under hers. He knew she was right, and that made the shame he carried over the night of the accident punch through him with such force, he wanted to hurl himself off that boardwalk and let the sea engulf him.

Until something clicked.

“Wait.” Dylan studied her. “How do you know what he looked like that night?”

Lennon tensed. “Erin told me.” As Dylan watched her closely, she turned away, as if looking at him made her uncomfortable.

“And we did a video call that night. She was with your dad. She was really scared.” Lennon paused a beat.

“So was I.” Dylan’s face softened at the rawness in her admission.

Guilt surfaced in her eyes. “I’m sorry I didn’t come to see you when you were in the hospital. ”

“You don’t have to be—”

“I wanted to,” she said, bowing her head.

“I almost bought a plane ticket, but then Erin called and said you’d woken up and were doing surprisingly well.

That you’d gotten lucky. Then, after the relief washed over me …

” Lennon met his gaze, and he could feel her remorse.

“I was angry at you for getting yourself in that situation at all. I didn’t know how to process everything I was feeling, so I figured it’d be better if I stayed away.

I didn’t want to make things worse for everyone. ”

“You wouldn’t have,” Dylan said.

“It wasn’t my place.”

Dylan read between the lines. I was no longer your wife; he imagined her thinking. As though that also meant she was no longer part of his family.

He hadn’t realized he’d technically taken that from her, too. It drove a knife through his chest. “You’ll always be part of our family. So long as you want to be.” Dylan lifted his thumb to gingerly—tentatively—wrap it around the side of her hand.

Lennon stiffened under his touch, her eyes glistening. He brushed her pinky with his thumb. After a moment, her eyelids shuddered, and she gently pulled her hand back, then rubbed them both up her arms as though she’d suddenly felt a chill.

Pain lanced through him. Dylan cleared his throat, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“I should get to bed. I have an early call time for filming tomorrow,” Lennon said, slipping her shoes on.

Dylan did the same, and they started walking back to his car.

“So, what are you filming?” he asked, cutting through the silence.

“Apartment hunting. Finally getting my first solo segment.”

“You’re moving already?”

“No. They’re setting up some fake showings for me to look at, and then I have to view mine as if I’ve never seen it before so I can decide that’s the one !

” Lennon raised her hands in mock excitement.

“They told me I can talk about my music, though. Test the acoustics of each place with my singing. Not exactly a behind-the-scenes feature, but it’s something. ”

“It’s just the beginning. You’re a great musician. Now that you have a platform to show it, it’s a matter of time before something clicks.”

“Let’s hope. Though, if Kelsey gets her way, I’ll be begging people to let me sing at their kids’ birthday parties again.” Lennon waited for a car to pass before crossing the street to his vehicle.

“Who’s Kelsey? That girl from the beach clean-up?” Dylan opened the passenger door.

“Yeah, the one you’re supposedly dating,” she said tartly, shooting him a look before slipping inside.

“Dating? I barely know her.”

“The tabloids and the internet would like to believe otherwise.”

Dylan shook his head, hanging his wrist over the top of the door. “I ignore that garbage. You should, too.” She looked up at him before he shut the door, her brow furrowing slightly.

Dylan settled into the driver’s seat and turned on the engine. “So, what does Kelsey have to do with your music career?”

Lennon rested an elbow on the windowsill, tangling her fingers in her hair. She released an agitated breath, which he was glad not to be the cause of for once. As he backed out onto the street, she relayed a conversation she’d had with Kelsey on the beach.

Dylan laughed. Not because it was funny, but because it was flat-out ridiculous.

“We’ve known each other for years,” he said. “ You divorced me and wouldn’t even let me pay spousal support. How could you possibly be a gold digger?”

“It doesn’t have to be true. It just has to be believable.”

“No one’s going to believe that.”

“You sure about that?”

Dylan clenched his jaw. No, he wasn’t. It was exactly the kind of narrative the media and the public would devour and then pick their teeth with the carnage.

“Let’s get ahead of it, then. What do we need to do?” Dylan focused on the near-empty road, waiting for her response. A few seconds of silence passed. He glanced and found Lennon staring at him. “What?”

Her expression suggested surprise but otherwise didn’t give away what she was thinking. Had he said something wrong?

Lennon finally turned her attention to the window, pulling her legs up. She’d slipped out of her sandals again, resting her bare feet on the edge of the leather seat as she wrapped her arms around her legs, seeming to sink into thought.

She used to sit like that when they drove around as teenagers, the same black nail polish on her toes. Her feet would dance to music on the radio while she sang along.

A small smile snuck to the corner of his mouth. Dylan faced forward, scrubbing a hand across his upper lip to hide it.

“I think we should ignore it,” Lennon finally said.

It took him a second to remember what they were talking about.

“At least in the sense of not arguing with her about it. Either of us trying to defend me will just make me look guilty and give her more ammunition to use against me. I need to show people the truth. Let them see it with their own eyes.”

“Well, that’s easy,” Dylan said. She sent him a questioning look.

“They just have to see us together. It’s obvious how we feel about each other.

” He turned down the street to her apartment complex.

Putting the vehicle in park, he kept his hand resting on the shifter between them.

Lennon was giving him that look again. The one he couldn’t read, that made him wonder if he’d missed something.

“We’re friends, right?” he asked. “Or has that changed since we last talked about it?”

Lennon narrowed her eyes, humming with uncertainty and nearly giving him a heart attack. A teasing smile tugged at her lips. “No, it hasn’t.”

“Then, let’s show them.”

Lennon seemed to think about it, fixating on the streetlamp illuminating the hood of the vehicle. She rested her head back against the headrest. “We have to figure out how to do that. We need an excuse to film something together.”

Dylan tapped his fingers on the shifter.

“Actually, I have an idea. Eddie’s receiving an award from Playmakers Quarterly tomorrow.

Erin and Dad will be there. It’s this whole stuffy black-tie thing, but the show’s filming some of it.

Eddie’s idea. He said it’d be a good opportunity to show we’re a united front and help get people reinvested in the team.

” He paused, an unexpected rush of nerves tightening his breath. “You want to be my plus one?”

“You sure? I don’t want to intrude on something important to your family and career—”

“I told you, Lennon. If tonight wasn’t proof enough, we’ll always think of you as family.

For better or worse,” Dylan said with a wry curve of his lips.

“I would’ve invited you sooner, but I didn’t think you’d want to go.

These things are always boring, and I was worried you would be … uncomfortable if I asked.”

Lennon’s eyes softened. She faced the windshield again, the amber light casting a warm, dreamlike glow across the planes of her face and through the loose strands of hair framing it.

Fuck. She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

“Well, I guess I need to hunt down a dress for a black-tie event in less than twenty-four hours.” Lennon sent him a sidelong glance with a conspiratorial smile.

Dylan returned it, his dread for tomorrow turning to excitement. He gripped the shifter, fighting the impulse to reach for her hand. “Thank you for tonight. For everything you said and for just … being there.”

Lennon dropped a shoulder. “I never turn down free food.”

Dylan laughed—a real, genuine laugh—and her smile widened. She didn’t move to unbuckle her seatbelt, instead sitting there for a moment, seemingly contemplating something. He waited patiently, happy to sit there with her for as long as she’d let him.

“I can see how much you’ve grown. How hard you’re trying,” Lennon said, catching him off guard. His chest drew tight. “I hope you don’t let your father’s unreasonable standards, and a douchebag billionaire take that from you.”

Dylan stared at her, struck by what she’d said. He swallowed and sent her a small smile. “Thanks,” he said, his throat tight. “I hope you don’t let your mom take anything from you, either.”

Lennon’s eyes turned sad, as they always did at the mention of Katherine. Even through a smile, he saw the grief behind it. The doubt rooted there. He wished he could take it from her and carry it himself, so she didn’t have to.

“You deserve everything you want,” Dylan told her. “You’re going to make it. I know it.”

Her lips parted, seemingly as struck by this as he had been by her comment.

His gaze fell to her mouth. Of all the times he’d wanted to kiss her recently, the urge now was particularly overwhelming.

Lennon’s eyes raked across his face, settling on his lips, and his heart rate quickened. Dylan leaned closer.

“I should go,” Lennon said.

He stopped, regret hitting him fast and hard.

Dylan nodded and sat back. As Lennon unbuckled her seatbelt, he asked, “Want me to walk you up? Since it’s late.”

“I’ll be OK.” She smiled. “Appreciate it, though.”

“I’ll wait until you’re inside, at least.”

They said goodnight to each other, and he remained parked outside until the light in her apartment clicked on. A moment later, she appeared at the living room window. She flicked her nose. He chuckled and waved back, then reluctantly rolled away.

As the distance between them grew, so did the ache deep inside him.