Denying Dylan | ✔️

Prologue

"Dilly bear... you home?"

A disgruntled scoff sounds from my best friends kitchen, informing me that Dylan is in fact home and as usual, is objecting to his nickname which he so openly despises. When I round the corner of his top floor apartment, I'm greeted with a sullen glare, it does little to sway my glee though as I stare at the graduation cap a top his shaggy dark hair.

"I've told you not to call me that about seven thousand times.."

"I'm sorry.. I am," I hold my hands up and smile with a mischievous smirk. "But I can't take that pouty frown seriously when you're wearing that cap on your head."

"You're wearing the same one!" He sighs with exasperation as he puts the OJ back in the fridge.

"Yeah but it looks so cute on you!"

I take a seat on the opposite side of the kitchen island, plucking a croissant off the granite counter top before proceeding to stuff my face.

"Damn Dilly bear, you should just skip culinary school!" I mumble through a full mouth of French delectable goodness. "You already make the best food I've ever tasted."

"Thanks Bea," he smiles sweetly, pushing the plate towards me. "I still have a lot to learn though.. I just can't believe we're graduating already."

He stands across the island from me, staring off into the distance for some time before his eyes meet mine again, noticing my obvious silence.

"How are you feeling?" He asks cautiously, pressing both of his palms flat on the surface, leaning on his outstretched arms. "I mean, I know you're not particularly thrilled about law school, but are you okay?"

I smile sadly, avoiding direct eye contact as I toy with a crumb on the countertop. The fact that I was being forced into a career path that held absolutely no interest to me was just one of the many things that threatened to diminish what should be one of the most exciting days of my academic existence. I didn't even want to open the can of worms that was my mothers very recent diagnosis, but knowing Dylan, he'd bring that up too. Not to hurt me, just to make sure I'm not completely falling apart.

"Hey, when your Dad is the number one lawyer in Manhattan and your guaranteed a high paying job as long as you don't crash and burn in college..." I hold my arms out, palms face up as if to welcome an argument, however the obvious sarcasm in my smile is a major contradiction to my over enthusiasm. "What's there to be sad about, ya know!"

"Maybe you can still back out.." Dylan shrugs his shoulders half heartedly. "Tell him this isn't the path you want to take."

As much as I admire Dylan's support, despite the fact that I know he's only trying to make me feel better, I can't appease his suggestions. We both know that there isn't a chance in hell Kevin Blake would let his daughter become anything other than an upper manhattan attorney.

"It is what it is Dilly," I ignore the pointed look he gives me for the nickname, "if you ever poison anyone when you become a culinary mastermind, you'll have me to bail you out!"

I snap my fingers and ooze as much delirium as I possibly can. Fake it till you make it right?

"Is your.." Dylan falters a little, running a hand through his hair and I know exactly what's coming next. "Is your Mom coming?"