Chapter Five

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Re-casted Dylan as Kristof Garcia

Dedicated to Rumi
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I'd checked my watch for the millionth time that day and was grateful when it read three-fifteen, finally breathing in since the day had crawled by. I could feel my blood buzzing in my veins, it was my cells holding their own riotous protest at me trying to convince myself to leave Dylan alone.

Not effing likely.

Even now I was headed towards Romeo's to check on Spotty, where his new owner would finally look his victim in the eyes. From what I've seen, Dylan does have a conscience. He was just an asshole that acts out, probably a reflex from his earlier days. I could see it now. Parental neglect, teen acts out for attention, comes into the family wealth at eighteen, inherits his position, seeks to please uncaring parents – failing despite attempts, and voila huge douche pants. Got you all figured out Mr. Ryman.

Now I had my mother to worry about. She had come all the way from Maine for a reason. As intent as she was to set me up with someone, no one leaves Maine and travels to Tennessee for that. Unless she really was as bat-shit crazy as I always thought. Whatever it was, my mom wouldn't tell me until she felt ready. She had found my porn stash when I was in junior year and waited until I graduated to say anything about it. If anyone could keep a secret it was my mom. She had never told my dad, leaving me to do it my own way. I had never wondered why she didn't before now, but... it was a little freaky how she can be sometimes. I hoped everything was okay.

"Hey!" That voice. Despite only hearing it a few days ago, now I'd know it anywhere.

I jolted out of reverie, turning my attention to the van parked along the opposing sidewalk. There, with his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his black leather pants, was Dylan, looking flushed and anxious. My eyes took in his fitted olive colored T-shirt under a black leather jacket, as he moved briskly over the road to me, never raising his eyes to mine. Immediately I felt guilty. Then upset. I didn't do anything wrong. He'd made it very clear at the time that he was into everything I'd done with him.

"A van? Didn't want a stray in your Porsche?"

He rose an eyebrow, eyes meeting mine fleetingly, "Of course not, thing might have fleas and all sorts of dog diseases."

"You're such a dick," I replied half-heartedly. I probably wouldn't want a stray in my car if I had a Porsche too. Why was I being so prickly for something so small? "Shall we?"

He brushed past me and through the sliding door entrance to Romeo's clinic.

Nancy, a short brunette with rosy cheeks and doe brown eyes who assisted Romeo, dropped her planner when she caught sight of Dylan. And blushed furiously as she bent over to pick it up. I could tell she was probably watching him since he was outside, and fought a smile. Poor Nancy, always falling for queers. If ever your gaydar is broken, bring him to Nancy. If she likes him, he's definitely gay.

I spoke first because it was plain that Nancy couldn't be coherent yet, and because Dylan was looking around like he was examining art on the walls of a gallery. First time? Or just nerves?

"Hey Nance, this is Dylan Ryman," he looked over briefly without saying a word in acknowledgement, and I continued, "We're here for ..." I trailed off, realizing that she would make a connection now. That this beautiful boy had run over the dog she was caring for. A smug grin crawled its way onto my face.

If she was blushing before she was definitely flushed now for a different reason. I saw her go fifty shades darker alright. "Mr. Ryman." Her tone made it clear that she was holding onto her anger by a thread. Then she turn back to me, "Yeah, Andy he's doing great. He answered to Spotty today since we've been testing it out." She turned and started to walk, gesturing in her wild Nancy way as if to fan away her initial lust for Dylan. We followed her down the hall, outside and into an open space they called the animal nursery. My eyes immediately zoned in on Spotty, still as a rock with a front paw raised as if pondering a step and too afraid. My heart went out to him before taking in two other dogs that were pacing the small wooden fencing. One was a white and brown Chihuahua and the other was a black Labrador, both pacing in time.

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