Denying Dylan | ✔️

(10) "You two look so happy."

Dylan needed to know how I felt.

That was the first thing that I thought about when I rolled out of bed at one in the afternoon the next day. Last night, when I'd been halfway to needing to be hospitalised, we'd kissed. And after we'd kissed, we smiled and wished each other a happy new year and I knew that was all it was to him. A New Years kiss. Although, part of me had to acknowledge that he kissed me a lot harder than that.

I couldn't assume it was because he loved me. It could have been. But it could have been nothing. It could have been the moment. Who knows? What I knew, was that if I didn't tell him how I felt, I'd regret it. Because something about that kiss led me to believe that there might be more for us and I had a newfound sense of courage. Courage that I didn't have last night because I was drunk and drunk confessions never go well.

There's always confusion about if the person really meant what they said or if it was just the alcohol talking. Now that I was sober, albeit hungover, but still sober. I knew that I wanted to tell him. I knew that I needed to. My heart would literally come out of my chest if I didn't express that he was my entire world and more.

I slipped into the bathroom and got straight into the shower, thinking about what I would say or how I would say it while I lathered my body with bubbles and thought about that kiss over and over again. The weight of his body on top of mine. The feel of his mouth moving with mine, tongue tasting and taking. His strong back under my hands. It makes me clench my thighs and sigh with pent up need.

Perhaps I would ask him to go for a walk with me. Perhaps I would just spit it out in front of Charlie. A dramatic declaration. I wondered if it would rain today. I peered out the window while I towel dried and saw nothing but clear skies. Nope. It wasn't going to rain. There would be no movie worthy confessions going on.

After I was dressed in a cropped T-shirt and loose white high waist shorts, I combed my wet hair, put on some make up and decided that I would know the right moment when it presented itself. But it would be this afternoon and I would be unapologetic about it.

I passed the kitchen and went straight for the living area, a bounce in my step that soon faltered when I saw Charlie sitting on the sofa, posture perfect, gaze distant while she stared out the window and tears slipped down her cheeks. Dylan was no where to be seen.

For a moment, I considered turning around and going out the bedroom window again. But for some unexplainable reason, I moved further into the room and stood in front of her. At a reasonable distance of course. Charlie was frightening enough as it was. Who could tell how unpredictable she'd be when she was emotional.

"What's wrong?"

Her eyes snapped up towards me, rimmed red. Her lip quivered and she swiped at her nose with a Kleenex. "What do you think?"

"I don't think anything. That'd be an assumption and I don't like those."

"Oh shut up, Bea."

"Okay. Where's Dylan?"

She stood up, the blanket that had been draped across her lap fell to the floor and I found that she was still wearing her PJs. Which was weird. She hated being caught dressed down. I don't think I'd ever seen her without a full face of make up on either. She was still gorgeous.

"He's gone for a walk," she snapped. Her voice was laced with hurt and it hitched as she scowled. "To clear his head. Because once again, we're fighting and you won't believe who the root of the problem is."

Oh shit. What if he told her that we kissed. That hadn't even occurred to me until now. Dylan has always kept my secrets. Without fail. I could tell him anything and he would take it to his grave. But he'd cheated on Charlie. That wasn't in his nature. At all. It'd be just like him to come clean. I suddenly felt horrible for putting him in a position that bent his morals. My entire mood started to slip.