Chapter 19
NINETEEN
CASSIUS
It had been a day.
While Mikey had thankfully been mollified by ice cream, it would take more to stop my scowl from slipping into place. And likely something even more excessive to ease the fury that filled Dylan’s gaze when I caught him staring into nothing.
While the air had cooled—the norm for late summer in Zumbrota—I sat on the back porch, wearing an Eagles hoodie and sipping beer. Dylan had been starting a second bedtime story when I’d kissed Mikey goodnight.
I understood his reluctance to leave our boy.
Fresh fury sliced at my gut.
Dylan’s parents would be served tomorrow with restraining orders. I didn’t even want to see their reaction. As far as I was concerned, if I never had to see them again it would still be too soon.
Poor Mikey had been petrified as the crowd had all but swarmed us just as our group—me, Mikey, Kelsey, and Millie—had been about to step into the ice cream store after the kids had enjoyed a long, giggle-filled play.
And when Rita had made a grab for Mikey, spewing her hatred, only my boy’s wide-eyed panic had stopped me from losing my shit.
The opening of the patio door drew my attention to Dylan. Silhouetted by the backlight of the kitchen, he looked pale, almost ethereal. Combined with the lost expression on his face, I reached out for him, urging him over.
In a few steps, he took hold of my hand and settled at my side, scooting down a little to fit more comfortably under my arm. And fit he did. Perfectly so.
How had I managed all these years without Dylan being mine? The flicker of a smile tried to form as he released a heavy exhale, just as I called bullshit on my thoughts.
“You’re smiling. How come?”
Dylan wasn’t even looking at me, reaffirming just how well he knew me.
“All these years we weren’t together as a couple, do you think we both kind of knew this was how we’d end up?”
Dylan shifted against me, no doubt surprised by the direction of my thoughts. Understandable since despite sort of knowing everything, we didn’t go over and over what we were to each other. Beyond married.
Describing us as a “couple” was likely the first time either of us referred to each other that way.
Honestly, I didn’t know how we worked so well and seemed to know without words what the other was feeling.
“Maybe,” he answered after a beat. “You never seemed interested in looking for a serious relationship.” Peering up at me, he shot me a lopsided smile.
“Back at’cha.”
Dylan snorted.
“You’re the only person I trust with everything.” Heat crept up my neck, but I didn’t pull away from the eye contact, even though I sounded like a big baby.
“If you say ‘including your heart,’ I might come in my pants.”
An abrupt laugh shot out of me. “You’re such a fucker.” I continued chuckling, Dylan joining in. My laughter petered out, but amusement remained bubbling in my chest as I asked, “And if I did say ‘including my heart’ and meant it, what then?”
But fuck yes, I really did.
With his chuckle dwindling, Dylan angled back. Shadows cast on his face, two streaks of light spilling from the door, one highlighting his parted lips, the other his chiseled cheekbone.
“I’d ask if we could change my and Mikey’s last name to Britton.”
Air froze in my lungs. And even though my lips parted, I couldn’t speak. Couldn’t form the words needed, not when happiness swelled in my heart, filling me to the brim while clogging my throat with emotion.
He waited patiently as joy, so fucking pure and magical, zipped around my system and finally had my hands working. Snatching hold of him, I hauled Dylan close, maneuvered him so he sat on my lap, where I hugged him tightly.
“Fuck yes,” I whispered against his skin, following up with two tender kisses on his neck. “I want that so much. Fuck.”
With trembling hands, I clutched his face, stroking his soft bristles as I stared up at him.
Sweet emotion peered back at me. As his ragged breath whooshed out of him, I tugged his mouth to mine, capturing his lips and kissing him.
I poured everything into our kiss. My joy. My certainty.
He matched every stroke, every tender caress until we pulled apart, panting.
“And if I tell you I’m falling in love with you… what then?”
My breath hitched as I absorbed Dylan’s softly spoken words.
How did I get so lucky? How was this my life?
Not breaking eye contact, I slowly shook my head, saying, “I’d ask you to show me every day for the rest of our lives.”
The mush was strong, but with Dylan’s deep swallow and wobbly smile, I’d stand in front of a packed-out stadium and shout my feelings for the man with a sonnet if he looked at me this way.
“Yeah?” His gaze searched mine, and I nodded, my grip tightening on his waist.
“Always.”
The lightest of chuckles spilled out of him, more of a huff of disbelief, possibly amazement. And I got it. Related 100 percent.
The shit show of the day faded into the background as Dylan pressed his mouth to mine and pulled away, saying, “Let’s take this to our room and I can start showing you.”
Fuck yes.
My mouth on his and buried balls deep, wringing every ounce of pleasure from Dylan, was how I wanted to spend every night we had together.
Panic startled me awake. Gasping, I clutched at my chest and sat up, taking ragged, deep breaths.
Goose bumps prickled my skin, the sweat covering my body cooling.
The fuck was that about?
Another shaky breath, followed by another, but my panic failed to subside.
Glancing to my side, I was tempted to wake Dylan. My neediness nor the weird feeling in my chest wasn’t a good enough reason to disturb him.
We’d made love twice. Once with our mouths, and the second when I’d slowly driven into him, capturing each whimper until we’d finally detonated.
Showering had been an effort, and I’d never been more grateful for anything than remembering to cover the bed with a towel rather than having to strip the sheets.
Both exhausted, it hadn’t taken us long to drift into sleep, but Dylan had another twelve-hour shift ahead of him. Not only was that enough for him to be dealing with, but the added shit of his parents didn’t make life easier.
Handling my racing heart by myself was something I could manage.
After I checked in with Mikey.
Naked, I slipped out of bed, grabbing my sleep shorts and hoodie on my way out. Once out of earshot, I dressed and headed to Mikey’s room, practically tiptoeing up the staircase, making sure I missed the creaky step.
Sleeping peacefully, Mikey’s one arm rested above his head, his other by his waist. The pounding of my heart settled as I watched his quiet, even breaths.
Fear unlike anything I’d ever known seemed to be my constant since finally stepping up to be Mikey’s dad. Would there ever be a day I wouldn’t worry? Wouldn’t be terrified he’d be hurt, or lost, or taken?
My pulse picked up speed with heavy thumps that threatened to have my knees buckling.
Mikey and Dylan were everything to me. My world.
If I didn’t have them, I might as well disappear.
The thought renewed my trembling breaths. I needed to get out of here before I woke Mikey or Dylan. Christ knew how loud my breathing was through the monitor.
Backing away, I left Mikey’s room with a last look and a tightness gripping my heart.
Fuck.
I all but stumbled my way into the kitchen, heading toward the faucet. After splashing cold water on my face, I filled up a glass and drank greedily.
It would be fine.
It would all work out.
Dylan would forgive me. He’d understand my reasons and his sister’s. He’d understand the deception.
Fuck.
I practically fell onto the couch, hanging my head low and cupping my face.
Dylan was going to lose his shit. He’d never forgive me for this. Not ever.
Nausea cramped my stomach. Fear squeezed my chest.
I could lose them both.
The hell was I going to do?
And that these emotions, the reality of the situation I’d gotten myself in, hit now? I didn’t have the emotional capacity to be surprised.
Everything had changed.
We were a family.
And yeah, just like Dylan, I was more than halfway in love with the guy. More than halfway, meaning absolutely, no-bullshit in fucking love with him.
Knowing I was the biggest fool out there, not telling him sooner, didn’t make me feel any better or help me navigate what to do. The regrets were numerous, but I could never regret Mikey.
Not ever.
Even if it meant I lost him because Dylan couldn’t forgive me.
“Hey.”
I jolted at Dylan’s sleepy voice.
“What are you doing up?”
From the widening of Dylan’s eyes when I faced him, I could only imagine how I appeared. The state I was in.
“Cass, what’s wrong?”
Alert in an instant, he joined me on the couch, taking hold of my hands and urging me to face him.
Looking him in the eyes over the past four years had been difficult, but since May, when we got hitched, doing so proved impossible at times. Now was such a moment.
I didn’t deserve his concern, and while terror clawed at me, everything was coming to a head. I had to tell him. How could I not and stand to look him in the eyes and tell him I loved him when I kept something so significant from him?
Fuck, I was going to be sick.
Launching up and racing to the bathroom, I heaved until my stomach was empty. On shaky limbs, I stood before the toilet and closed my eyes.
A cold cloth pressed to the back of my neck, and I sighed.
Dylan was so incredible.
“You’re worrying me. What can I do?”
Silently, I shook my head, not sure I could speak without the dam breaking.
“Have you felt ill for long?”
The concern in his voice twisted my stomach. I released a shuddery breath, forcing words to form. “No. I’m okay. Better now.” I flushed the toilet and eased away.
Dylan stepped back, concern filling his expression when I finally found the courage to look at him.
“You don’t look the best, Cass.”
A humorless huff escaped me as I picked up my toothbrush to brush my teeth. “I suppose vomit isn’t the best look on anyone.”
Tight-lipped, his face pinched in worry.