Rushed (Hate at First Flight #1) ✔️

29. Ice Mocha with A Dash of Chocolate Truce

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Losalini

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[ edited 11 Dec 2015 ]

It might have been a strong coincidence that I dreamt about Dylan after 'dream Dylan' told me to dream him. Or maybe it was one of those signs from the universe that had a meaning you couldn't quite fathom. Whatever it was, it came to the same conclusion. I dreamt about Dylan Rush.

It wasn't a nightmare. It was more like a pleasant dream.

No, we didn't try to kill each other in the dream. And, interestingly it was the best night's sleep I'd gotten after coming to this place.

I could only conclude that I might have still have lingering feelings of pity for him after I snapped at him when he arrived with Chinese.

Thankfully, Declan informed us that the shoot had been pushed back to nine because a PA (hopefully James) had misplaced all the extra films. So they had to purchase some more before filming could commence.

My fatigue and caffeine hungered body was pleased.

But then, when I looked into the pantry, I'd only purchased green tea, apple tea and cinnamon tea.

Cinnamon tea it is then.

"Morning," Dylan greeted as he entered the kitchen with a Starbucks bag.

I nodded, still brimming over the fact that we hadn't tried to kill each other in my dream.

"Went for my morning jog and bought some croissants and muffins on the way home," he said as he placed the bag in front of me on the counter.

Did he just say 'home'?

I nodded again, sipping from the cinnamon tea and chewing on the tomato sandwich.

Dylan sat on the high chair next to me. Then he starts to unpack the contents of the bag. "Here you go, Hunt." He pushes over a plate with a chocolate muffin and a croissant. Then he pulls out a cup. The rich, addictive aroma hits me.

Cinnamon tea was okay but coffee or any drink from Starbucks trumps it without fail.

Dylan smiled as he pushed over one of the two. "Here you go. I got you an ice mocha with a dash of chocolate."

I looked up at him, wondering if he'd poisoned it or put in some sort of laxative.

As if he knew what I was thinking, he chuckled. "No poison and no laxative, Hunt. Just drink."

I grab the drink warily and took a tiny sip. Not detecting any poison or laxative, I drink on.

"Alex..." Dylan began. I looked up at him, mouth full of croissant. "I was wondering..."

I arched a brow at him, telling him to continue.

"...if we can put this hatred or whatever aside?"

I stared at him, confused as I waited for him to elaborate.

"I'm sorry about what I said that day. Truly sorry. I know I was out of line. I had no right saying what I did," he continued all in one breath as he looked me in the eye. "I wouldn't know the first thing about what you went through and so I have no right calling you a coward and judging you."

I kept staring at him, the croissant long chewed, but I remained speechless, shocked.

Dylan chuckled. "I don't know why I did what I did. I guess you just bring the worst out of me."