Chapter 24 Begin Again
Begin Again
Ali
Tuesday came fast. Or slow. She wasn’t really sure at this point.
Ashley had half her head buried in Ali’s closet, holding up options with a hum and shake of her head every few seconds.
Ali sat on the edge of her bed in a pair of soft biker shorts, chewing the inside of her cheek and trying not to spiral. Dylan had said comfy clothes.
“What about the book tee with the pink sleeves?” Ashley called out, holding it up like it was gold. “It’s cute, it’s you, and it’s breezy enough if y’all end up outside at the Marsh.”
Ali took it, fingers smoothing over the faded typewriter graphic and tiny stack of illustrated novels. “Okay,” she nodded, voice quiet.
The truth was, oversized tees had always been her comfort zone.
Not just because they were easy—but because they made her feel safe.
Hidden, but still herself. Being plus-size meant that most days were already laced with too much thinking.
Too much adjusting. Too much wondering if she looked like she was trying too hard, or not enough.
“Hair?” Ashley asked, already pulling out a brush.
“French braid?” Ali offered. “It’s so freaking hot today.”
Ashley grinned. “Perfect. Casual picnic princess. Dylan’s gonna die.”
Ali smiled, but her stomach flipped. She wasn’t sure she was princess material. But maybe… maybe with Dylan, she didn’t have to be anything more than herself.
Ali pulled the front door closed behind her, clutching her phone and a cold bottle of diet lemonade like they might somehow anchor her.
Dylan’s black Bronco was already in the drive, engine idling, windows down.
He leaned his elbow against the sill, one hand on the wheel like a scene straight out of a dream she used to have ten years ago.
His sunglasses were pushed up into his messy brown hair, and when he saw her, he smiled slow and real— like seeing her made his whole day.
She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling too hard back. “Hey.”
“Alison Presley...” His voice wrapped around her like warm flannel. “You ready?”
“Sure,” she said, climbing into the passenger seat and buckling up. Her oversized tee brushed her thighs when she moved, the soft fabric a comfort against the nervous flutter of her belly. She’d always loved this shirt— the pink sleeves, the stack of books. It felt like her. Safe. Easy.
Dylan pulled out of the drive and turned toward the historic district. “Thought we’d start with a little cruise,” he said. “I wanted to see how Mariner’s Lane is holding up.”
The SUV rolled slowly down the shady strip where the water peeked through the trees and the Victorians stood proud with their wraparound porches and hydrangeas. Ali leaned toward the window, eyes soaking up every gable and gingerbread trim.
“This one was always my favorite,” she murmured, pointing to a buttercream yellow house with blue shutters and ivy climbing the banisters. “It looks like a something from a storybook.”
Dylan glanced over. “You said you wanted to write a romance novel set in that house one day.”
“I did?”
He nodded. “You were eighteen. It was after Creative Writing. You rode home with me for the weekend because Daisy had a pledge thing going on. You made me slow down in the rain just to get a picture.”
Ali’s face flushed. “Gawd, I can’t believe you remember that.”
“I remember everything,” he said simply.
She turned away, hiding the smile she couldn’t fight. They passed Dockside Avenue next, the breeze thick with marsh salt and honeysuckle. It smelled like childhood and second chances.
After a bit, he looped them through a drive-thru, ordered her nuggets, fries and Coke Zero without even asking, and then drove them to Bellamy Marsh Nature Preserve. The gravel crunched under the tires as he pulled into a quiet spot facing the dock and water.
Ali pulled her legs up into the seat beneath her, crisscrossed and comfortable. “This is perfect.”
He handed her the bag and drink. “Good. I kinda hoped it would be.”
They opened their food with that easy kind of silence— the kind that didn’t need to be filled.
Birds skimmed the marsh grass in the distance, and frogs chirped somewhere deep in the cattails.
And right there, with her Chick-fil-A sauce and bare legs under her tee, Ali felt more herself than she had in years.
“You okay?” he asked, looking at her like he could read every flicker in her brain.
She nodded. “I’m really glad I came.”
“Me too.”
They sat parked at the edge of Bellamy Marsh, the Bronco’s windows down to let in the warm night air and the steady chorus of cicadas. The scent of salt and marsh grass drifted in, mingling with the faint hum of distant traffic.
Dylan leaned back, a grin spreading across his face as he launched into stories about his teammates— pranks gone wrong, locker room antics, and quiet moments that showed their real character.
Ali laughed harder than she had in weeks, tears prickling at the corners of her eyes as his stories caught her completely off guard.
“I haven’t laughed like this in forever,” she admitted between gasps.
Ali took a breath and smiled shyly. “Sounds like some silly stuff Ashley gets our book club into. Shelf Indulgence. Sometimes we discuss books and drink cocktails. Sometimes it’s Diet Cokes and corndogs or a Saturday morning iced coffee— or whatever fits the mood.
Sometimes we just want to escape adulting. ”
Dylan’s eyes twinkled. “Iced coffee, huh? You still into those caramel iced lattes?”
She nodded, a little embarrassed but pleased he remembered. “Absolutely yes. They’re my weakness.”
He laughed softly. “Maybe next time, I’ll bring you one.”
The two of them sat quietly for a moment, the gentle sounds of the marsh wrapping around them like a soft blanket.
Ali stole a glance at Dylan, the easy smile still lingering on his lips. The way he talked, laughed, the way his eyes crinkled— it all pulled at something deep inside her.
Her mind wandered back to their texts earlier, the way he’d said, “God, I missed your mouth.” She’d flushed just thinking about it then, but now, here with him, it felt even more electric.
She bit her lip, feeling a flutter of nerves and excitement. The thought of those words— and all the unspoken things behind them— lingered, making her heart race.
Dylan caught her gaze and raised an eyebrow, teasing. “What’s got you all quiet?”
Ali smiled, a little shy, and shrugged. “Just thinking… about you saying you missed my mouth.”
He chuckled, the warmth in his eyes deepening. “You should know, that’s only the beginning of what I miss.”
Her cheeks warmed, but she met his gaze steady. The night felt full of promise.
Ali’s breath hitched, a blush creeping up her neck. “Oh yeah? Like what?”
He leaned a little closer, voice dropping low and teasing. “Like how good you were at those ‘wall things’ the other night. Got me thinking… you’re full of surprises.”
She bit her lip, heart pounding but daring to play along. “Is that so? Maybe I should show you a few more then.”
His grin deepened. “Damn right, you should. Just don’t be surprised if I get greedy.”
Dylan, probably not wanting to push her too far, went back to talking about his life in Orlando. She paid attention, she did but she kept thinking about how badly she wanted her mouth on him.
Ali surprised them both when she leaned over and took his mouth with hers. His lids fluttered shut in surprise but then a soft groan and his hands fisted on her braid as he deepened the kiss.
He reached over and tried to pull her in his lap but she didn’t move.
Ali’s fingers trembled slightly as she popped the button on his khaki shorts. The reality of what she was doing hit her in a wave— hot, nervous, a little unsure.
She felt him watching her, his breath slowing, steadying, not with pressure, but with reverence. His voice was soft at first, coaxing.
“You don’t have to,” he said, brushing her cheek with his knuckles. “Not unless you want to.”
She looked up at him from beneath her lashes, her voice barely a whisper. “I want to. I just… I’ve never—”
Dylan’s expression softened, but there was still hunger in his eyes. “Hey. That’s okay. I’ll show you. You don’t have to be perfect— just be mine.”
He guided her hand with his, wrapping her delicate hand around him. She felt the weight and heat of him in her palm, her lips parting just slightly in surprise. He groaned, low and deep in his throat.
“Fuck, that’s it. Just like that, baby.”
Ali ducked her head, cheeks flushed, but when she leaned in and kissed the tip softly, Dylan hissed through his teeth.
“God, you’re killing me.” His hand pulled gently at her braid. “Use that pretty mouth, sweetheart. Let me feel those lips.”
She hesitated, but his voice was steady and warm— filthy, yes, but laced with something deeper. When he used those explicit words, it didn’t embarrass her; it emboldened her. Made her feel like a goddess in his hands.
“Open up for me. Just a little. There you go… good girl.”
The praise lit something in her. She wrapped her lips around the head and flicked her tongue instinctively. Dylan’s hips twitched, his hand tightening slightly in her hair, pulling at her braid.
“Oh fuck, Ali. You feel so good. Just a little deeper now— yeah, just like that. Slow and steady.”
Her confidence grew with every moan that slipped from his throat. He kept guiding her, not rushing, just talking her through it.
“You’re doing so good, baby. So sweet. Look at you— taking my cock like this.”
Ali moaned softly against him, and the vibration made Dylan curse again.
“God, you don’t even know what you do to me. You’re so fucking sexy like this. That mouth was made for me.”
She hollowed her cheeks, mimicking what he said, and when she looked up at him again, Dylan’s head fell back against the seat.
“Fuck. You’re a dream, Ali. My dream. Don’t stop now, baby.”
And she didn’t.