Chapter 12 Cecily #2
Amber leans across the circle and plants one on Daisy, and I’m suddenly very aware of how warm the room has gotten.
“Longer,” Rocky demands, because he’s classy like that. “Come on.”
So they go at it again, and I find myself staring at Dylan, who’s already looking at me with an expression I can’t quite read.
When the kiss ends, I look down at my arms and notice they feel weird. Tingly. Warm. The last time I got drunk—first year of college—I blacked out completely and spent the next two days hugging a toilet bowl.
I’m so lost in thought that I miss whatever dare gets thrown out next, but suddenly Dylan is standing up and removing his shirt.
Then his pants.
I blink, trying to process what I’m seeing. Everything feels a little fuzzy around the edges, like I’m watching this happen to someone else. Dylan is standing in the middle of our friend circle in nothing but his boxer briefs again, and everyone is losing their minds.
“Holy shit,” I mutter, because my filter has apparently left the building.
Daisy winks at me. “You’re welcome.”
“I didn’t thank you,” I shoot back, which makes Scott whistle appreciatively.
“Why are your clothes off again?” I mutter.
“I mean, I had to dare him again. This time it’s staying off. Seriously, if you don’t want him, I’ll take him,” Daisy says with a shrug.
Scott laughs way too hard. “She’s obsessed with your man, Ce.”
“He’s not my man,” I argue, flailing my hands in the air and making a stupid face that makes Scott glare at me like he’s annoyed.
Dylan sits down next to me, and I’m immediately hit with the scent of his cologne mixed with something that’s purely him. “Did the shots get to you?” he asks.
I nod, letting my eyes wander over his chest. “I’m a really good personal trainer.”
He laughs, and the sound makes my stomach flip. “You are.”
“I think you just have really good genetics, though. It almost doesn’t count.”
“It counts,” he says, still laughing. “Cecily.”
“Don’t say my name like that,” I demand, because the way he says it makes me feel like he’s about to say something else.
“Like what?”
“Like that. With that laugh and that smile. Get out of here.”
He raises an eyebrow and leans closer. “Cecily,” he says in a voice that’s deeper than usual.
“You two need to get a room already,” Scott says.
I glare at him with enough intensity to melt steel. “I will tackle you.”
Scott meets my glare with his own. Pointing the bottle at me on purpose. “Truth or dare, Ce?”
“Dare,” I say, because I’m incapable of learning from my mistakes.
“Backyard. Tackle this guy.” He nods toward Dylan.
“Bro,” Dylan says, and he actually sounds concerned. “Knock it off. Come on. It’s her first time out with us, so don’t scare her with your bullshit.”
“Are you scared I’ll take you down?” I challenge, because the alcohol has made me feel invincible.
I lift a sassy brow at him.
Dylan glances at me with a hint of that perfect smile. “You’re willing to tackle me?”
“I get a twenty-foot head start, then yeah,” I smirk because I’m pretty sure I can take him. How hard can it be?
He shakes his head. “You are not going to be able to take me down, Ce.”
I scrunch my face at him. “Pfft. Bring it on, hockey boy.”
We all migrate outside, where the real party is happening. Rocky yells at everyone to get the fuck out of the way, because it’s his house and he can do that. Dylan positions himself in the middle of the yard in his boxers, and I walk backward until I hit the fence.
The countdown starts, and my heart begins racing. “Five! Four!”
My eyes lock on Dylan’s, and he’s smiling like he’s about to enjoy this way too much.
“Three!”
He crouches down, getting ready.
“Two!”
My heart drops into my stomach.
“One!”
I take off running like my life depends on it, and Dylan braces himself. Every step brings me closer to either glory or humiliation. I lower my center of gravity and launch myself at him, shoulder-first.
The impact is immediate and jarring. My shoulder connects with his ribs, and for a split second, I think I might actually succeed. He takes a step back, and I’m convinced I’ve got him.
But then he doesn’t fall.
He’s still standing, and I’m just pushing against him like I’m trying to move a brick wall. He uses every muscle in his body to stay upright while I throw my entire body weight against him.
Finally, I give up and let go, and he stumbles forward from the sudden lack of resistance. That’s when I see my opportunity.
I jump on his back like a demented crazy person, and he goes down face-first into the grass.
“Got you!” I whisper in his ear, then stand up and plant my foot on his back like I’m some conquering hero.
The crowd goes absolutely wild, cheering and whooping like I just won. But Dylan doesn’t let it slide. He grabs the back of my knee and pulls, sending me tumbling down on top of him.
Instead of hitting the ground, I land directly on his chest, knocking the wind out of him.
I burst into laughter, and he holds me down for a moment while he catches his breath. I press my hand against his chest to push myself up, and I can feel every ridge of muscle under my palm.
“Nice try,” he says, laughing.
“You’re like a cow,” I grumble, struggling in his grip. “A big, immovable cow.”
“Moo,” Rocky says from behind us, and suddenly everyone’s doing it.
“Moo!”
“Moooo!”
“Oh my god,” I say, but I’m laughing too.
Dylan stands and brushes grass off his body.
“Sorry, Moo,” he says with a grin. “Better luck next time.”
My eyes travel down his frame, and I have to remind myself to breathe. “You good?”
He nods. “Are you?”
“I want to go home now.” I turn around and head toward the house, suddenly feeling like I need some space to process whatever just happened.
But Scott catches up to me, throwing his arm around my shoulders. “Hey, Ce. Glad you made it out with us tonight.”
“Scotty, I need to pee, and I can’t carry your weight right now.” I try to shrug him off, but he won’t budge.
“Do you like Dylan or are you just naturally flirty?” he asks, still hanging on me like a drunk koala.
“What?” I stop walking and stare at him.
“Come on. You’ve been his trainer for a few weeks. We see how much time you spend with him. Is it just work or is it for fun? Look, we’re all just trying to figure out what’s going on between you two.”
I peel his arm off me. “There’s nothing going on, Scott.” I flash him a smile and a quick laugh. “I train him, so we hang out. And we became really good friends.”
“Best friends,” he says.
I nod, feeling like I’m going to pee my pants now. “Yeah.”
“But you would fuck him, wouldn’t you?”
I turn around completely, abandoning my need for the bathroom. “Why are you saying that? Why is everyone so obsessed with our friendship?”
“Ce, that’s my boy. He’s barely hooked up with anyone recently, and he’s usually my wingman. I’m just wondering where he’s getting his needs met, you know?”
“Ugh.” I roll my eyes so hard I start to get dizzy. “I need to pee, but I promise you we’re good friends. That’s it.”
“Are you willing to train me? We could be besties too.”
I glare at him, walking backwards. Sarcastic asshole. “Bye, Scotty.”
I escape to the bathroom and take the longest pee of my entire life. When I come out, I feel much better, like I’ve regained some clarity.
I find Dylan putting his clothes back on, and he looks up when he sees me. “Ready to go?”
“Yeah. Hey, why is everyone suddenly so interested in our friendship?”
He shrugs, buttoning his jeans. “They’re bored. Nothing better to do.”
“They actually think we’re hooking up,” I say. My eyes drift around the party.
Dylan shrugs again, pulling his shirt over his head. “How drunk are you?”
I close one eye and walk in what I hope is a straight line toward him. When I reach him without falling over, he laughs.
“Definitely can’t drive, but I want to get home.”
“I’ll drive you.”
“Wait.” I press my hand against his arm, and his skin is warm under my palm. “Didn’t you have drinks too?”
“Barely. I’m good.”
When we say goodbye to everyone, Scott slaps Dylan’s ass and winks at me, Rocky bites his lip while bucking his hips, and Westley shakes his head like he’s disappointed in all of us.
Once we’re in Dylan’s truck, I buckle my seatbelt and watch him climb into the driver’s seat. “Do you hate having me for a friend?”
He looks at me like I’ve just asked him if he hates breathing. “No. Why would you think that?”
“I just pop out of nowhere in your life, and now everyone won’t stop questioning what’s going on. Isn’t that a bit much?”
Dylan starts the truck and pulls out of Rocky’s driveway. “It’s whatever. People talk.”
I roll my head against the seat to look at him. “And what does this mean?” I demonstrate the finger motion Rocky showed us earlier.
Dylan laughs and gently pushes my hand down. “Have you ever been fingered before?” he asks so subtly.
I shrug, then shake my head. “Maybe? I don’t know.”
He says, “You curl your finger and hit the G-spot from the inside.”
My eyebrows shoot up. “Seriously?”
“Apparently.”
“How do you know that? How many girls have you fingered?”
He shrugs. “A few.”
“And you used that move?”
“Only recently, because I didn’t know about it before.”
“Recently?” I stare off into space, trying to imagine it. “Did she scream?” I ask because my filter is completely gone.
Dylan’s eyes meet mine for a second before he looks back at the road. “She was... responsive.”
I imagine him with some faceless girl, his hands between her legs, and I feel something twist in my stomach. “Oh. Cool.”
He shifts uncomfortably in his seat. “Yeah.”
“Are there any tricks like that for giving blow jobs?”
He looks directly at my lips when I say it, then blinks several times and stares out the windshield. “Um. I don’t... I wouldn’t know.”
I laugh. “You have a dick. You should know what feels good.”
“Right.” He nods slowly. “It just... it all feels good, generally speaking.”
I turn in my seat to face him fully, leaning against the passenger door. “Dylan.” He looks at me, and I can see something shift in his expression. “Do you want to… Would you want to… I don’t know… experiment?”
“What do you mean?”
I shrug, nodding toward the backseat. “I mean, we could figure out what we like and don’t like. Together.”
He swallows hard, and I watch his Adam’s apple bob. “You mean like... right now?”
I nod. “Right now.”
He shakes his head and laughs, but it sounds forced. “Ce, you had some shots. You’re not thinking clearly.”
I let my head fall back against the window. “Sometimes I wish I could be like this more often. I feel free. Like I could conquer the world.” I look at him again. “And I promise I’m not that drunk. It was three shots. I’m buzzed, not wasted.”
“We’re friends,” he says quietly. “Really good friends. We shouldn’t complicate things.”
“True.” I study his profile, then let my eyes drift down to his lap. “Are you hard?”
“What?” He shifts in his seat, and I take that as a yes.
I lean closer, close enough that I can see the depths in his blue eyes. “We’ll still be best friends after. You don’t need a girlfriend right now. You’re too busy with hockey and school. And I can’t have a boyfriend. I’m too focused on my career.”
“Cecily.”
I smile and lean even closer. “Dylan.”
“I should take you home.” He leans back and puts the truck in drive.
I sit back as we pull onto the road. “Truth or dare, Dilly.”
He glances at me quickly. “Neither.”
“Come on. If you’re going to be like that, then the stakes have risen. Now it’s either two truths or one dare. Your choice.”
He takes a moment to think, then sighs. “What do you want to know?”
I tap my finger against my knee, thinking. “When’s the last time you had sex?”
“The night before I met you.”
I click my tongue. “Right. She was thirty years old?”
“What?” His head snaps towards me quickly. “No. No. Viv is our age. Scott made some stupid joke about her being thirty, and I decided to be out.”
I throw my head back and laugh. “I know. I know. I’m just fucking with you.”
“What else do you want to know?” he asks, eager to change the subject.
“When I went to the bathroom, Scott asked me if I would fuck you.”
He looks at me. “Fucking Scotty.”
“That’s my next question.”
He has a confused expression. “What’s the question?”
“Would you…”
His jaw tightens, and suddenly he’s pulling over to the side of the road. Gravel crunches under the tires as he hits the brakes and throws the truck into park.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“It would just be sex?” he asks, and his voice sounds different. Deeper.
“What?” I ask, wondering if I missed something.
“Experimenting? It would just be sex. No strings attached?”
I nod. “Yeah, but we haven’t even kissed. So, it’s hard to know if we should move forward with it. Like what if you kiss me and you feel like throwing up, or you end up hating the way I smell, or something weird.”
He shrugs.
“So, just kiss me and find out,” I say, my heart hammering in my chest. “Kiss me and tell me if it’s weird.” I pull back. “You have to be honest. If it’s too weird, then let’s drop it completely, and we’ll forget all about this.”
The tension in his face melts away as he looks at me, and I can see him weighing his options. The smart thing would be to drive me home and pretend this conversation never happened.
But with the way Dylan is looking at me right now, I hope he doesn’t.