‘No,’ I said firmly, reaching up and wiping the tear from the corner of his eye before it could fall. ‘No crying, Dylan. If you start crying, I’ll start crying, and I don’t want my memories of last night to just be of us crying.’
‘I’m just…’ His Adam’s apple worked in his throat as he swallowed. ‘I’m so sorry, Cece.’
The night we’d spent together had been perfect. He was perfect. He was nice and hot and good in bed, and the only bad thing about him was that he wasn’t wrapping his arms around me and saying,Fuck it, fuck this, fuck everything, I love you, I choose you, I’m yours.
He was perfect. Except he wasn’t mine.
Sometimes it just doesn’t work out, kid. Sorry.
He wasn’t wrapping his arms around me, so I wrapped my arms around him instead. ‘I love you,’ I whispered into his skin, at the place where his neck and shoulder met, the place where I’d left my mark on him. ‘But I have to go now.’
His palm came up to cup the back of my head. ‘What if…?’
‘What if what?’ I asked, drawing back.
He let go of me abruptly. ‘No,’ he said, running a hand through his hair and tugging at the ends. ‘No, I’m not going to ask you that. It’s not fair to you. None of this is fair to you. I shouldn’t have even come to the Convent last night, no matter what Murray said. I should have just left you alone, like you told me to.’
‘What were you going to say, Dylan?’
He shook his head.
I lobbed the socks at him. They bounced off his chest. ‘Spit it out.’
‘Do you think you could sneak out again tonight?’ he asked. ‘Without the cameras seeing you?’
I stared.
‘I told you it wasn’t fair,’ he said. ‘There’s nothing I can offer you, Cece. I’m dating four women, and I’m contractually obliged to make Dyl my girlfriend in a week and a half. It was unbelievably unfair of me to even put the suggestion out there.’
‘Yes,’ I said. ‘I can sneak out.’
We looked at each other for a long moment.
‘This is a terrible idea,’ he said eventually.
‘I know.’
I walked over to him and kissed him, running my fingers over the stubbly line of his jaw.
‘See you tonight,’ I whispered.
‘Did you get what you wanted?’
I looked up from my spot on top of the washing machine.
Lily Fireball put her hands on her hips. ‘Well?’ she said, raising a perfectly manicured eyebrow.
‘Yes,’ I said. ‘Thank you. For making it happen.’
A normal person would have saidYou’re welcome, but not Lily. ‘We’re square now,’ she said. ‘Agreed?’
She held out her hand. After a few seconds, I took it.
She shook it firmly, once, twice, then let go. ‘Nice doing business with you,’ she said, and turned on her heel to go.
‘Lily, wait.’
She turned back. ‘What?’
