Chapter 43
FORTY-THREE
DYLAN
I’VE NEVER HAD a girlfriend before, but it’s been three days without her, and I feel like I can’t breathe.
She said it’s not a breakup, but it damn near feels like one.
Now I understand why people reconnect with nature after getting dumped.
I’ve been on two hikes with Summer, who went easy on me this time because she felt bad.
But even if Sierra had wanted to break up, I’d never let her do it so easily.
Especially over something like this. She stays behind the wall of her past like it’ll keep her safe, but she doesn’t know that I’d break through anything to get to her.
It’s us or nothing, and I don’t give a fuck if that sounds possessive. She’s mine, every goddamn inch of her.
If she wants to be.
In the spirit of taking things slow, I dropped an entire box of Reese’s peanut butter cups; a Tangled Lego flower; and a framed, signed picture of me and Dale Thunderman. Yeah, I chased the man down.
Kian and I went to the news station yesterday and waited six hours to see him.
I promised Kian that we’d visit the animal shelter after to find him a cat.
When we finally arrived, Dale Thunderman was all styled hair, gleaming white teeth, and a voice I’m sure would narrate one of Summer’s romance novels.
Is that why Sierra watches him? Am I jealous of a middle-aged weatherman?
Much to my dismay, the man was charming as hell.
When I told him my girlfriend is a fan, he said he gets that all the time and happily took a picture.
I’m pretty sure Kian has a crush on him now.
That’s why he got a picture for himself and then asked to record a video.
I don’t know if Sierra’s seen it yet, because she texted that she was going to her parents’ house. It took everything in me not to drive straight there, but her mom texted that she was okay.
On top of all that, tonight is the vow renewal. The tuxedo my dad delivered during his visit lies on my bed, patiently awaiting my decision.
My hair is still damp from the shower, so I run a towel through it.
It’s long now, curling at the ends even as I try to push it back.
The length reminds me of my dad’s. My mom would joke about it being the perfect leash and he’d bow his head to her level, gladly letting her lead the way to whatever corner of the house she wanted him to fix something in.
If I wasn’t so jaded, I’d probably still believe that he built my mom our first house with his bare hands.
The same house I grew up in, the one with Kian’s and my heights tacked onto the bedroom door frame.
A reminder chimes on my phone that sits on the bedside table, breaking through my thoughts.
I still haven’t answered the text from Ada asking me if I changed my mind about tonight.
I stand there, trapped in indecision, staring at my reflection in the full-length mirror.
My mom’s words echo in my mind, giving me the final push I need.
Just as I button the crisp white shirt, a knock sounds at my door.
“Yeah?”
Kian peeks in first, his eyes sweeping the room before he pushes the door open.
Aiden and Summer trail behind, dressed in their best clothes for the event but carrying an air of uncertainty.
My friends don’t say a word as they step inside.
The three of them settle onto the edge of my bed, their figures reflected in the mirror.
“It’s not a funeral,” I say.
“It isn’t fair that you have to go after everything he’s put you guys through,” Kian replies, loosening his tie with a restless hand, his eyes flicking to his phone for the third time.
“It’s fine. I’m going for my mom.” My voice wavers, betraying my uncertainty. Being there might only weigh heavier on my mom’s already fragile heart because I know I won’t be able to mask what I’m thinking.
When my parents sent out the invitations, it didn’t take long for my friends to figure out why I’d been in such a dark mood. I had told my dad not to make this a big deal, but of course, Darragh Donovan doesn’t do anything small. Especially when what he’s trying to keep hidden is so much bigger.
“You can still bail. We’ll do something else,” Aiden says, his voice careful. He’s giving me an out I won’t allow myself to take.
“I need to do this,” I say, though I’m not sure if it’s for me or for my mom. That letter is still weighing on me, and I can almost hear her voice in my head. It’s driving me crazy, and I need it to end. I want it all to stop.
“We can grab fast food and do some karaoke,” Summer suggests.
Kian chuckles as he tucks his phone away with a more optimistic attitude. “I was going to suggest we get drunk, but Sunny’s idea is great too.”
Summer swats him with her purse, and Aiden shoots him a disapproving look. The mention of alcohol seems to have them on edge, but I know it has nothing to do with the substance and a lot to do with how I used to use it to avoid this exact thing.
“Thanks, but the sooner it’s over, the sooner I can forget about it,” I say. “And we can still drink all the champagne at the open bar.”
“Hell yeah we can,” Kian affirms with enthusiasm.
As I slide on my tux jacket, each of them gives me a reassuring pat on the back before exiting my room.
The last thing on my bed is my bow tie, and I fumble with it as I attempt to fasten it around my neck and under my shirt’s collar.
After two failed attempts, I stuff it in my pocket, grab the car keys, and head for the door.
My friends are still inside when I walk out the front door, busy checking on the stove and anything else left unattended as I descend the porch steps. I’m about to unlock the doors of my Range Rover, when the sight of red in the driveway catches my eye.
Sierra stands there, her black hair neatly styled in a low bun with two strands framing her face.
The warmth of her complexion contrasts with the bold red of her full lips.
Her matching red dress, with thin straps that show off her collarbones, hugs her body in all the right places and ends just short of her ankles.
Black heels lift her a few inches, putting her almost as high as her skates usually do.
“You’re here,” I say.
“Heard you needed a date,” she replies softly.
Just then, my friends clatter down the steps. Sierra’s gaze follows them with a hint of apprehension, and although it’s subtle, I notice her slight retreat as they gather behind me.
Kian mutters “finally” under his breath before he shoves his phone back in his pocket.
“We’ll take my truck,” Aiden says, gently taking the arm Summer was using to nudge him, and ushers her to his truck.
In four slow steps, I close the distance between Sierra and me until the tips of my shoes touch hers. Her cherry scent envelopes me. “You look …” I trail off, unable to find the words.
“Easy?” Sierra jokes, her uncertainty fading a little.
A weight slips from my shoulders. “I was going to say hot.”
She raises a brow.
“And beautiful.” My eyes drag down her dress, then back to her face. “And perfect.”
Her smile makes the blush-pink apples of her cheeks rise, and I swallow hard to keep from saying something else that may be very inappropriate for our “taking it slow” phase.
“No bow tie?” she asks.
I shrug, but she must read something on my face, because her hand dips inside my pocket.
The silken ends of the black bow tie slip between her fingers as she lets her hands slide up my chest to lift the collar of my shirt.
Our eyes lock, and I can hear my pulse in my ears.
I miss you. Put me out of my misery. Let me be everything for you, I want to say as she slides it around my neck, evening out the ends.
“When I was twelve,” she begins, “I did a charity showcase, and my short program was to ‘Circus’ by Britney Spears. I refused to wear a clip-on bow tie, so I got pretty good at tying these things.”
“I’d pay good money to see that.”
Sierra expertly loops the tie. “Stick around and I might show you for free.”
I graze her cheek. “I intend to.”
Her emerald gaze catches mine, and I know she’s taking the words for what they are. A promise. Then, when I can’t take the heady rush of being this close to her, I lean down to taste her red lips, but the honk of an irritating car horn stops me midway.
“What is wrong with you?” I hear an irritated Summer hiss just as the truck windows roll down. Aiden pinches the bridge of his nose, clearly trying to hold back a headache, while Kian leans into the driver’s side window, the soft country music spilling out.
“Sorry to interrupt, but we need directions. I’m starving,” Kian says.
If looks could kill, the one I’m sending him right now would do the trick, though Kian couldn’t care less. But when Sierra laughs, a real, unrestrained laugh, nothing else really matters. Her white teeth contrast with her red lips as she smiles so brightly, I can’t help but mirror her expression.
“We should go before Kian eats your friends,” she says with a slight shiver.
I pull off my coat, wrapping it around her before she can protest. I help her into the car before jogging around to the driver’s side. As I pull out, Aiden’s truck follows closely behind. I hand Sierra my phone, and she settles on the playlist I made for her all those weeks ago.