41. Dylan
DYLAN
The street outside Wren’s apartment is alive. Students spill out of bars, laughing, stumbling, swaying. A couple leans against a lamppost, tangled in each other, oblivious to the world around them.
I watch it all through the windshield, feeling…absolutely nothing. I’m so far removed from being able to understand these students’ carefree lives that I may as well be on a different plane of existence.
I’m…numb. Disconnected. Gutted.
BSU had been starting to feel like home, like where I belonged. Where I should have been all along. And now…I’m beginning to think I don’t belong anywhere. Nowhere can replace the home I lost. Perhaps I’m destined to roam this world alone for the rest of my days.
Except, I’m not entirely alone.
Griffin sits beside me inside the car, silent except for the muted tapping of his fingers drumming absently on the steering wheel. His presence is the only thing tethering me to reality. The only thing keeping me from unraveling completely.
I swallow against the tightness in my throat. My voice comes out hoarse, barely above a whisper. “Why?” He turns to face me, and I force myself to look at him. “Why did you believe me over everything you saw? Over Kyle’s accusations?”
His jaw clenches, dark violence flashing across his striking blue eyes, momentarily darkening them.
It’s there and gone so quickly that I almost wonder if I imagined it as he reaches forward, eliminating the space between us.
His thumb traces along my jaw and down the side of my neck before his fingers curl possessively around my throat.
My breaths turn heavy as he pulls me toward him until only a slither of space exists between us.
When he speaks, his voice is low, rough. “Because you. Are. Mine.”
A growl accompanies those words. One that sends a shiver racing through me. His eyes burn into mine, intense, unrelenting.
“I don’t give a fuck what you did or didn’t do. If you slept with your old team, if you fucked your coach—I. Don’t. Care.” His grip around my throat flexes. “You’re still mine. End of story.”
A shudder runs through me at the force he puts behind those words, the volatile flicker.
“For what it’s worth, I will always believe you, Dylan. Always choose you. No matter how hard it gets, no matter what kind of shitstorm we’re in the middle of.” He leans in, his breath warm against my lips. “You’re it for me.”
Then his mouth crashes into mine.
It’s not gentle. It’s desperate, consuming, a raw collision of lips and teeth and tongue.
A sealing of his promise. The fingers of his free hand tangle in my hair, and he uses his hold on my neck to drag me impossibly closer.
I melt into him, letting him steal my breath, letting him erase everything else.
When we finally break apart, I’m panting, my fingers fisted in his hoodie. His forehead rests against mine, his hands still holding me like he’s afraid I’ll disappear.
His steady, unmoving gaze is all I see as I force myself to speak. “Lucas compiled the video. I mean, I’m assuming Kyle got the footage of all of us, but the stuff from my old team came from Lucas. They must have been working together.”
Griffin’s body goes rigid, fine shakes vibrating through him like it’s taking considerable restraint to keep himself still. To not move to find both of them and tear them apart, just like he swore earlier.
I keep going, though, needing to get it all out.
“He used footage from when we were together. Photoshopped things to make it look like I was—” My voice breaks, Griffin’s fingers massaging soothingly over my skin as I push through.
“He used it to blackmail me into leaving. I was terrified of what it would do to my reputation, to my mom. She was barely holding on after my dad died, drowning in pills and alcohol. If she saw that…”
Whether it’s my words or the devastation I can feel shredding me, Griffin’s stance turns predatory. Rage consumes him, blazing out of his eyes with such intensity that I’d be absolutely fucking terrified if I were Kyle or Lucas right now.
“I’ll kill him.” The words are an animalistic snarl, barely coherent.
“I swear to fucking God, I’ll end him. Both of them.
” His voice is guttural, dark, and a twisted shiver of delight skitters through me.
It’s been a long time since someone has been so vehemently on my side, and, hell, I’ve missed it.
Missed having that unquestionable support. That irrefutable love.
Not that I’m saying Griffin and I are in love.
Although, staring at him now, the devil who would never forsake me, I can’t help but think I might be a little in love with him .
“While I’m at it,” he continues darkly, “I should strangle Ethan, Jax, and Finn for how they treated you tonight.”
A sad smile tilts my lips upward, the action not quite meeting my eyes, and my throat is thick as I run my fingers reassuringly down the ropey muscles of his arms. “They’re entitled to feel what they feel and think what they think.”
His nostrils flare. “They fucking betrayed you.”
I swallow hard, the hurt still so fresh and painful. “Maybe, but I guess I can’t fully blame them after everything they saw.”
“I can!” His eyes flash with malice.
Despite the warmth that blooms in my chest at his words, I redirect the conversation. “I never slept with my coach—old or current.”
He scoffs like the fact that I’m even having to say that is ludicrous. “Of course you didn’t. Why would you sleep with someone who is like an uncle to you?”
I still. How the hell does he know that? Does he know everything about my past—about who I am?
Catching my wide-eyed look of shock, he chuckles darkly, seductively.
“Hurricane, don’t you know by now that I know everything there is to know about you?
” He leans in, inhaling as his nose trails up the column of my neck.
“When I say I’m obsessed with you, I don’t just mean your body.
Although, believe me, I am absolutely in love with every inch of your skin.
But it’s not just the sex I’m after. It’s you .
All of you. Your mind, your talent, your family, your history, your future. I want it all.”
“God forbid you just ask me about any of it,” I drawl, needing a bit of levity as my heart slams against my chest like it’s trying to jump from my body and launch itself into his.
He smiles against the crook of my neck. “Where would the fun in that be?”
He chases the question with taunting, open-mouthed kisses that send my pulse skyrocketing. “Come home with me,” he rasps. “You can stay in my bed. I’ve got plenty of ideas that will keep you distracted.”
As if to demonstrate, he swirls his tongue over my skin, and I moan. My core is already clenching, hips tilting upward in an open invitation. Who needs a bed? I’d shamelessly let him take me right here, on the side of the road, for all of Blackstone to witness.
For a moment, I lose myself in the fog that always descends when Griffin is touching me, looking at me.
“I can’t.” I have to force the words out, my body protesting every syllable that leaves my lips. I don’t want to leave. I could easily lose myself wrapped up in Griffin for the remainder of the weekend.
Tugging down the neckline of my gear, he continues his blazing trail along my shoulder. I didn’t even get a chance to shower after the game. I’m covered in dry sweat and probably stink, but Griffin doesn’t seem to care. If anything, the taste of salt on my skin only seems to encourage him.
“I-I need girl time.” It’s a struggle just to maintain a logical thought process when he’s playing my body like it’s his own personal toy. “T-to think.”
“You think too much,” he grunts, hands sliding beneath my clothing and… oh, God. “You need to feel.”
Feel him worshipping every inch of my body.
Feel him spreading me open and claiming what’s his.
Feel him pumping me full of his cum.
Another moan rips free, and I squeeze my legs together.
“Stay with me.”
His words are a plea, a demand, an order from someone who doesn’t expect to be denied.
In a single moment of clarity, I push on his shoulders, putting enough distance between us so I can think clearly. My chest heaves with my labored breaths as I stare into his dark, hungry eyes.
I shake my head, partly in a no to his words and also to clear it of the lusty fog. His face morphs into a scowl, one that is part terrifying, part adorable. Or maybe I’m just entirely fucked in the head.
“I could just drive off with you.” Darkness laces his words as he reaches to push the button for the central locking.
I arch a brow. “You’re going to kidnap me?”
He shrugs, entirely unbothered. “If that’s what it takes.”
Crossing my arms over my chest, I stare back at him, headstrong, even as I fight back a laugh at the notion of bargaining with a crazy man. “How about I text you during the night?”
He grumbles, not looking entirely appeased.
“And we can do something tomorrow—grab dinner or whatever.”
His fingers flex. “Not enough.”
I sigh, giving him an exasperated look. “Breakfast then. You can pick me up first thing.”
“Fine.” It’s clear he’s still not happy, but he relents.
Grinning at him, I keep one hand on the door handle as I lean over to press a brief kiss to his lips. “Good night, Griffin.”
I hurriedly scurry out of the car before he can tempt me to stay—or trap me. He growls at my hasty retreat, eliciting a laugh from me.
Grabbing my bag from his back seat, a thought strikes me before I close the door. “First thing does not mean you show up here at 6 a.m.,” I tell him sternly. “Nine, at the earliest.”
“Six. Be ready, or I’ll break down Wren’s door to get to you.”
He’s gone, the door closing as he pulls away from the curb, before I can argue. Dumb, territorial males.
I’m still shaking my head at his ridiculousness when I knock on Wren’s door. However, the moment she opens it, the weight of everything from today cracks the dam. My face crumples.