9. Dylan
9
DYLAN
I t was late by the time Brad and I got back to the hotel room. Shane and Alex pulled their usual maneuver and slipped off after only a little while. Apparently, Shane needed to get some dick before midnight or he’d turn back into a pumpkin. Brad hopped in the shower after I was done, thankful to put on sweatpants and a t-shirt to get ready for sleep.
Even if I didn’t drink, I was still adjusting to the time difference and felt like I was wading through a pool of pudding. The bed was so soft, though, and I flipped on the TV, scrolling through channels of Italian. A woman yelled at some guy on the screen, and I shrugged, settling in to watch it even if I didn’t understand a word they were saying.
Brad spoke some Spanish, which was only sort of like Italian. Maybe he could give me some context when he got out.
The main actress was being restrained when Brad emerged in a cloud of steam from the bathroom. I glanced at him, but immediately couldn’t look away. My throat constricted for a moment, and my palms felt sweaty. He was just wearing sweatpants, no shirt, and a towel in hand as he dried his hair. His muscles were on full display, every crevice of his abs was visible with water running between each muscle.
“Dylan?” Brad’s voice called from the doorway.
I blinked, wondering if I’d stared for too long. Clearing my throat, I focused back on his face. “Huh?”
Brad laughed, and I wondered for a moment if he knew . He had to think I was a creep. “I asked what you were watching.” He ran the towel over his hair, squeezing out the excess moisture. He disappeared into the bathroom again before re-emerging.
“I don’t know…I think it’s like a soap opera? Do they show soap operas at night?” If I focused on the TV, it might be easier not to stare at him. Not to notice those muscles or the casual way he moved around, so confident in himself. It definitely wasn’t ingrained in my mind, wasn’t just there every time I blinked.
“Huh, cool.” Brad walked over and slipped into the bed, and I realized we were here together , that for the next few nights we had to sleep next to one another. He smelled amazing, like soap and fresh water and something just a little spicy.
Frowning, I kept my gaze on the TV. Why was I noticing this shit now? Brad was my friend, my best friend . I knew he was in good shape — I knew he was a handsome guy. Both were maybe vast understatements, and not exactly surprising to anyone with eyes. We’d slept in the same bed before. There shouldn’t have been anything different.
I’d pleasured myself in the shower, but was I still just horny? Was it not enough?
“Did she kill her husband?” Brad’s deep, quiet voice cut through my thoughts. So often Brad was loud and boisterous whenever we were out with the other guys, but when it was just the two of us, his voice quieted to this calming timber.
I blinked. “Uh….maybe? Hadn’t figured out if it was husband or brother yet, honestly.” Yeah, that was all, not that I wasn’t paying attention. My thoughts weren’t at all occupied by Brad more than anything else.
We watched for another moment in silence, settling into the show. My heart rate calmed down as we sat there, reminding myself that this was just like every other time we’d hung out. Nothing had to change just because we were halfway around the world and in this bed alone, with no one else barging in soon.
Because they’re all too busy fucking, a very unhelpful voice in my mind added.
“Hey, so…random question. Why didn’t you go for that guy earlier?” Brad asked, sounding casual. His gaze never left the TV.
I glanced at him, and it took a moment to figure out what he was talking about. What guy? “Guy?”
“Yeah, the one who offered to buy you a drink? I don’t know, I just caught the tail end of it. He was cute. Just wondering why you didn’t go for it.” When he looked at me, his voice was almost too casual.
I shrugged. Right, that. “Oh…I mean…plenty of people hit on me. I don’t go for all of them — I’m not Shane. I have to…feel it, I guess, but I didn’t.” Not that I was judging Shane or anyone who did fuck around all the time — good for them. For me, though, it harshed my vibe if I worried about landing a good lay every time I went out. It sounded almost arrogant to say people hit on me a lot, but it was just a fact. I didn’t know why they did. I was okay looking, but probably the least attractive of the four of us. Maybe their allure rubbed off on me when we went out together. They thought they stood a chance if they went for the lowest hanging fruit.
“That’s fair.” Brad ran a hand through his damp hair, pushing it back from his handsome face. “What makes you feel it? I’ve known you a long time and honestly, I don’t know that I’ve ever seen much of a pattern.”
I blinked. Did he want a pattern? Why? The suspicious feeling died down when I considered again that this was Brad , and we spent most parties hanging out together. Of course, he was going to notice when I went off and left him once in a while. What was wrong with me?
Humming, I tried to figure out how to word it. “I just…like to be comfortable, I guess. I don’t know how to explain it other than that. There are a lot of attractive people in the world…maybe some not even in this world — do you believe in aliens?”
Brad laughed. “You know I do. We’ve had this conversation.”
“Oh right, right. Anyway, yeah, attractiveness doesn’t matter as much as like…how it feels to be around the person, you know? If it feels weird, then I’m not into it.” That was one thing I liked about Brad. He didn’t get annoyed when I went off-topic.
“Yeah, I can see that.”
“And this dude was just looking to get some. He needed someone more desperate.” Sometimes Shane would get on my case or say that I should experience more, but after things happened with Theo, he hadn’t said as much. I wasn’t so easily peer pressured.
Brad reached over and patted me on the back. I burned where he touched me. “Good for you, man. You’ve always been the most independent of all of us, you know? I appreciate that about you…you always know what you want and just how to handle yourself.”
Me? My lips parted in surprise. “Uh...I do? I don’t handle myself well, though. People just think I’m weird.” I half laughed.
“Give yourself more credit, Dyl. You’re not weird, you’re happy with who you are. We all like you for that person.”
I swallowed thickly and nodded. Thoughts flitted toward my dad, how he probably didn’t even know who I was. Did he even want to? Did he care?
Other people kept telling me I needed to change, that I was too weird or that I didn’t fit in with what they expected, but Dad didn’t even expect to know anything about the person I was.
I shook myself out of my spiraling thoughts, not wanting to spin myself down that path. I’d start wondering if he wished I was the one who left instead of Frankie. Things like that were all the way in California, and Dad would be there just waiting with his cloud of sadness when I got back. Here I was with Brad and my friends, and life was okay for now.