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The food looks more like art than food, and I sigh heavily looking at it. I miss stews, lasagna in big whopping sheets, plates of fries with a crumbed chicken breast and gravy, a plate full of good, wholesome food. Food I haven’t had since my mum died. Why does my food have gold glitter on it? I’m going to count how many mouthfuls this is, but it looks like maybe a generous four.
Wings. That’s what I want. Sticky, sweet, messy wings.
“Oh, this is lovely, simply gorgeous.” Silver purrs and leans on Gray’s arm. Gray, to his credit, does not look happy, and sends Falcon and Silas dark looks at every turn.
Dylan stiffens, and I reach out and place a hand on his thigh. I take a bite of my food and almost choke when I turn my head and find Falcon glaring at me. With more caution than I wish, I remove my hand.
I don’t listen to the conversation. Just eat what’s presented, try to stay calm, and shrink further and further into myself with each of Silver’s jabs.
I know why she’s doing this. I’d hoped years of poverty would help her attain some level of common sense. But apparently the air of entitlement hasn’t gone.
“Our father was an alpha,” Silver says.
I pull myself out of my daze and focus on what she’s saying.
“He didn’t love our mother, though. She was just a beta.” Her words, I've heard them so many times, but never like this. “Just like Nanna. Beta through and through.”
Dylan reaches out, and this time, the heat of his hand blankets my thigh, stopping the ice spreading in my veins and the tears that are trying to fall.
My dessert doesn’t appeal to me, so I wipe my mouth with a napkin and push my chair back.
“If you will excuse me.” I say and notice that no one at the table acknowledges me. I’m already invisible. But the second I stand up, Dylan does, too.
He steps in front of me, grabs my wrist, and drags me through the dining room like he’s on a mission. I don’t know where he’s going, but I'll go with him. The shame and embarrassment is a thick fog in my head, and I’ll take any help I can get.
We get to the pool, and I pause.
“What are we doing here?”
He reaches out and grabs a handful of my dress near the waist, pulls it up to mid-thigh, and knots it. He’s so close, and the scent of lemon turns sweet. I love the line of his jaw, the dark stubble, and the scar on his right eyebrow where the tiny hairs have turned white.
He’s gorgeous, and he kissed me.
“Why did you kiss me?” The words are out before I can think. My cheeks burn, but I don’t take them back.
He pauses and then finishes the knot before he stands up. I inhale swiftly. He’s right there in front of me. Our mouths are so close. Is he going to kiss me again? Do I want him to?
He steps back and pulls off his shirt. I watch as he kicks off his shoes and then points at mine. I have an impression we’re going to sit and kick our feet in the pool, and I kinda like this idea. With a side glance at him, I kick off the heels and step to the edge.
Dylan grabs my hand and pulls us both into the pool. I let out a startled shriek before the cold of the water floods over my head. I kick to the surface and flick my hair back before I start to laugh.
Dylan is nowhere to be seen. I tread water, turning slowly, and then I’m suddenly pulled under. With a happy laugh, under the water, I dive and kick free, but when I turn, he’s there, his body melding around mine. I wrap my legs around his waist as he brings us up to the surface.
I choke and laugh again, clearing my wet hair from my eyes.
I throw myself backwards, but he holds onto my ass so I just float in the water with him above me. He strokes a hand down the center of my chest. It’s so sudden and erotic. My laughter dies.
Suddenly, I’m aware of the throb between my legs. I’m aware of the silence around us. The lapping of water. The way my skin has pebbled and is so sensitive where his fingers have touched me. My lips tingle. Everything in me wants him to close the distance between us, erase it like it’s not there. I sit up, resting my hands on his shoulders.
“Dylan,” I whisper, and he lets go.
I swim away from him and press my back to the side of the pool wall. But he follows, pressing into me. I can almost touch the bottom of the pool, but he can stand, and he uses that to pin me to the side.
“I need to kiss you,” his voice is silky smooth, and it sends a thrill through me. His lips find mine, his tongue entering my mouth, filling me with the taste of lemon lollies.
He pulls back, resting his forehead against mine. “I want you.”
Three words. Three guttural, heartfelt words that echo inside me.
