Chapter 15 Dillan
DILLAN
A man gets his woman off first.
A gentleman makes sure she forgets how to walk before he’s done.
—Dillan’s Secret Thoughts
“Maybe this was a bad idea,” I tell Rome, hating the tremor in my voice as we pull into my parents’ driveway. “I’m a lot of things, but I’m not a liar. I may not go out of my way to tell people all my truths, but I’ve never gone out of my way to lie to them before either.”
Rome throws the car in park and turns toward me, his hand reaching for me, like he has the right to do so when we’re not in front of anyone.
I know I should back away, but I don’t. I close my eyes and absorb the feel of his hands on my face.
He’s the reason I’m lying. I shouldn’t find any comfort in his touch.
“I’m sorry I’ve put you in this position.”
My eyes fly open, shocked. “Really?”
“I needed help, Dillan. It’s not like I’m fucking you over on purpose.”
Time to pull away. I turn out of his touch and grab my purse. “You’re blackmailing me, Rome. I’m not helping you out of the goodness of my heart.”
Once upon a time, I might have, if he’d have asked then. But that was before.
He drops his hands and turns off the car without another word.
Welcome to my shit show.
“So what are we saying tonight?” he asks as he opens the car door for me and takes my hand in his.
“Stick to the real story as much as possible,” I tell him. “We don’t have to be exact with the dates. We bumped into each other at West End one night, and things kind of evolved from there.”
Rome
An hour later, I’m sitting at Nattie and Brady Ryan’s table, Dillan and Asher to my left, and Killian and Lilah across from us, with Nattie and Brady at the heads of the table, telling them exactly the way Dillan had suggested.
“Isn’t that so romantic?” Nattie smiles as she sips her wine. “You just knew?”
Dillan chokes on her water and turns to me, her eyes watering. “Yeah, Mom.” She rolls her eyes and turns back to her mother. “We just kind of knew. At least, we thought we did. But you know, it’s not like you can trust your gut instinct right away. So it took some time.”
“Especially your gut, Dillan. Your gut likes to change its mind a lot.” Asher looks around his sister and shrugs. “No offense, man.”
I lay my arm along the back of Dillan’s chair possessively, not liking the way Asher’s talking about his sister. “None taken. I’ve got a mother and a sister who both change their minds all the time. Nothing new to me.”
“Dillan is just adventurous. She likes to try new things,” Nattie adds as if she feels the need to explain her daughter to me. But the funny thing is I’d call Dillan anything but adventurous. Looking at her now, she seems like she’s ready to crawl under the table and hide.
“My gut doesn’t change its mind, Ash. Not all of us are born with a football in their hand and a course set for them for the rest of their life.” Pretty sure that’s hurt I hear in her voice.
“She was just trying to figure out what she wanted to do,” Lilah adds, and it makes me a little uncomfortable.
“She’s sitting right here,” Dillan reminds them all, and the discomfort shifts.
My family is a mess on a good day, but I never would have figured the Ryans would be. They always seemed picture-perfect.
“Life isn’t lived on a timeline,” Brady adds.
“Life takes the plans we have and makes them her bitch. There’s nothing wrong with being flexible.
It should be celebrated. When I met your mom, she was trying to figure things out.
She’d always thought she wanted to be a dancer until that year.
Now look at her. How many books has she published and how many shows and movies has she sold?
Life has a funny way of putting you exactly where you need to be when you need to be there.
Don’t rush through it.” He drags his eyes off Dillan and sets them on me, dislike clearly radiating off him.
“And don’t settle. Not for anyone or anything.
If it doesn’t bring happiness to your soul, it’s not worth it. ”
“Thanks, Daddy.”
Christ, she called him Daddy.
“So, Rome, when’s your next fight?” Brady asks, and I’m not even sure if Dillan realizes it, but she leans into my side.
“Six weeks from now in New York,” I tell him, waiting for the hard questions that never come.
Probably because this man doesn’t care. He doesn’t ask because he doesn’t want to know.
He wants his daughter with anyone else. Anyone who isn’t me.
Funny, since she’s not actually mine, you wouldn’t think that would piss me off, but fuck if you wouldn’t be wrong.
For now, she’s mine.
For six more weeks, she’s mine, and the fact that this man who’s basically a living legend in this town has judged me and found me lacking pisses me the fuck off.
Dillan stands and takes our plates. When Lilah stands, she shakes her head. “Sit, Tink. I’ve got this.”
I take the plates from her. “I’ll help you.”
“Thanks.”
We clear the table as Nattie and Lilah discuss her plans for the baby’s room while Brady, Asher, and Killian dissect the football season.
But once Dillan and I are in the kitchen and the door shuts behind us, I take the plates from her hands and plant my fists against the counter, caging her between my arms.
“Rome . . . What are you doing?” She lifts her chin and nibbles her lower lip nervously.
“What was that in there?” I ask, unable to hide my frustration.
“What was what?” Dillan looks away, but I guide her face back to mine.
“Don’t play stupid, Ryan. It doesn’t suit you. Why do you let your family treat you like some dumb kid who doesn’t have a clue what she wants in life instead of telling them what you’ve already achieved? You should be proud of yourself, Dillan.”
She sucks in a breath, her chest shaking with the inhale. “Just because you need validation from the world doesn’t mean I do.”
“I’m not talking about validation. I’m talking about standing up for yourself.
Not letting them think you’re a flake. Why the hell do they think that?
Why don’t they know how impressive you are?
They’re your family. They’re supposed to know.
” I feel my anger simmering just under the surface.
“No one should talk to you like that, princess.”
“My sister is the princess, not me, Beneventi. And they don’t mean anything by it.
I’ve had a ton of jobs since I graduated from college.
And I never really stuck to anything in high school.
They’re just teasing me. And I don’t have to explain myself to you.
” Tears well in her eyes, and I feel like the biggest asshole to walk the Earth.
“They love me. I’m enough for them without knowing anything I’m doing now. ”
“Baby . . .” I whisper and cup her face, dragging my thumbs under her eyes, wiping away her tears. “Who fucking hurt you?”
“You did,” she whispers, and my heart sinks.
The kitchen door swings open, and Nattie walks in, looking between us with a knowing smile. “Sorry to interrupt. I was just grabbing dessert.”
Dillan buries her face in my shirt, so her mother doesn’t see her tears, and I hold her close like Nattie just caught us in here. She grabs a cake and plates and smiles as she scoots back through the door.
“I never meant to hurt you,” I tell her as I press my lips to the top of her head.
And when she lifts her face and looks at me, hurt flashes back at me. “Just because we’re lying to them, doesn’t mean we need to lie to each other, Rome.”
She steps out of my arms, grabs the coffee pot, and follows Nattie back into the dining room, leaving me to wonder what the fucking hell is happening and when did Dillan Ryan become someone who means something to me?
Why does the thought of hurting her set my blood blazing? And how the fuck do I fix it?
Dillan is quiet as we walk back into my house later that night. Tension hangs heavy between us, and I can’t blame her. I did this. I forced her here. I wasn’t worried about how it would hurt her, just how it would help me. And why? Because she bruised my fucking ego two years ago? Who am I kidding?
“Princess . . .” I reach for her, but she steps away from me, a mask of indifference reflecting back at me.
“Just don’t, okay?” Her words are soft but sharp enough to cut. “I’ve got work to do.”
She grabs a pink polka-dot bag from the kitchen table, the one I know she keeps her computer in, and heads for my office before quietly closing the door behind her. Dismissing me in my own house. And maybe I deserve it. I don’t fucking know anymore.
We’re crossing lines faster than we can draw them in the damn sand at this point.
We’re not friends.
I’m not sure we ever were.
But what the hell are we?
Enemies?
A month ago, I’d have said yes.
Taunting Dillan Ryan has been my favorite fucking pastime for the past two years.
So I’m going to need help figuring out what the hell I did to hurt her, and why the thought of hurting her guts me.
Fuck . . .
My phone vibrates in my pocket. I pull it free, ready to ignore whoever’s calling, until I see the text.
Ryker
Feel like grabbing a drink?
Rome
Fuck yes.
Ryker
West End?
Rome
See you in ten.
I debate telling Dillan I’m leaving, but ultimately, she said she wanted space.
Consider this space.
Ryker and I take our beers and find a table in the back corner of the bar, apparently neither of us in the mood for the crowd tonight. I sit with my back to the packed bar, hoping to avoid any attention and pull my hat low.
“How was dinner?” Ryker signs and says, but it’s hard for me to even hear him.
“Honestly, it was kind of fucked up. Have you ever noticed how Dillan’s family talks to her like she’s . . .”—I try to find the words to explain myself—“I don’t know. Like she’s a joke?”