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He blinked at her and deadpanned, “I don’t know why that last point is such an issue for you. That’s my number one prerequisite when it comes to dating a woman. You know, it’s all about me and what I need.” He grinned.
She rolled her eyes, but a smile threatened to appear on her lips, too. “You’re such a liar, and your sweet but fierce mother would strip your hide if she heard you talking like that.”
“True.” He chuckled as he kicked his feet up onto the chaise part of the couch so he could stretch out more comfortably. His mother had raised her three sons to be gentlemen, respectful of women, and to treat them as their equal. Anything less and, yeah, he’d be in a world of hurt.
Serena grabbed the pillow she’d hit him with earlier, settled it in her lap, and absently played with the fringe around the edges. “Your problem is, you’ve been a commitment-phobe most of your life, and especially since your breakup with Brandy,” she said, reminding him why he kept his own relationships casual and short term, because for the long haul, women demanded and expected more from him than he was able to give.
“And don’t forget all the other women who find out I have money and see me as their sugar daddy,” he added for good measure.
Truthfully, he hadn’t always been stupid wealthy, and having millions had never been his goal, but his company, Stone Media, had catapulted him into a seven-figure-a-year income over the past two years, all because he got paid for what he loved to do—creating and designing apps. For himself. And for big-name companies. Having more money in the bank than he personally needed had just been a bonus.
“You know, not all women are money grubbers like the ones you’ve come across lately,” she said gently.
He tipped his head to the side and arched a brow. “And not all men are like the ones you’ve dated,” he retorted wryly.
She laughed lightly, but the sound was tinged with a bit of sadness. “I don’t know that I believe you.”
“Touché, sweetheart.” Because he didn’t believe what she’d just said about the women he’d attracted lately. After Brandy had blindsided him, trust didn’t come nearly as easily as it once had. And even before her, that trust had been precarious at best.
Shaking her head at his rejoinder, Serena placed the throw pillow on his thighs, scooted around on the sofa, then laid her head in his lap, making herself comfortable as she stared up at the ceiling and contemplated life. As he looked down at her, there was a furrow between her brows he wanted to smooth away with his fingers, but he refrained from touching her so intimately. It was hard enough—pun intended—that her silky, honey-blonde hair was tumbled across his bare stomach so sensually, so temptingly, and conjured arousing images that had no business being in his brain.
After a few quiet moments, she spoke again. “So much for having a date to Leo and Peyton’s wedding next month,” she said of his brother’s nuptials. “I really thought Darren might be the one.”
She sounded so dejected. “He doesn’t deserve you,” he replied, meaning it. Dylan hated that she couldn’t find a decent guy, and it wasn’t for a lack of trying. Serena had been on a mission to find “the one” since graduating from college, which added up to five years of dating and disappointments.
Her gaze shifted from the ceiling to his face, her big, blue, emotion-filled eyes meeting his. “Why can’t I find someone like you?” she whispered.
Her comment was like a punch to his gut, and Dylan struggled to breathe, because he knew she was being completely serious in her wish. Hell, she might as well have said, I want it to be you, since those words were more accurate and truthful.
Dylan wasn’t the obtuse idiot everyone thought he was when it came to the beautiful, smart, sexy woman who’d been his best friend since they’d both been in diapers. Despite pretending as though he couldn’t see that Serena had worn her heart on her sleeve for years when it came to him, and that he wasn’t aware of the longing way she occasionally looked at him—like now—he’d always known exactly how she felt about him. That she was in love with him.
He cared for Serena. Would do anything for her, and yes, he loved her because she was his best friend. His rock. His other half. His desire and attraction to her weren’t part of the equation when it came to his feelings for Serena, because he’d never act on those urges and risk ruining their friendship, since he’d never be able to give her the things she longed for the most.
And the truth was, he’d never been in love. Not even with Brandy. He didn’t trust that intense level of intimacy that meant being open and vulnerable, which was why he’d always avoided that kind of emotional depth and commitment to one person. He supposed it didn’t help his frame of mind that his father had set a shitty example of just how much someone could hurt the person they’d committed their life to, claimed to love, yet could so easily walk away from his wife and family while Dylan’s mother was battling breast cancer. Those painful years had made him more self-contained with his emotions, including not putting his heart on the line.
So, no, he wasn’t the forever guy Serena was searching for. She deserved so much better than him, a man who had no clue how to love in the capacity she needed. And ultimately, he wanted that for her.
It was that thought that prompted his teasing reply. “I’m hardly a great catch and have my own commitment issues, as you just so kindly pointed out.”
Smiling up at him, she lifted her hand and pressed her cool palm against his cheek. “Yeah, but at least I’d know what I was getting with you.”
It was difficult seeing the yearn
ing in her eyes and not being able to give this woman everything she wanted and desired. “Trust me, sweetheart, there’s a guy out there for you.”
But that man wasn’t him, no matter how badly she might want it to be.
2
“Miss Fields, Robbie keeps yanking on my hair and it hurts,” Annaleise, one of Serena’s third-grade students, complained from her desk in the middle of the classroom. “Tell him to stop.”
Serena glanced up from the spelling papers she was grading, not surprised that the eight-year-old boy sitting behind Annaleise, who was supposed to be reading quietly, had a guilty look plastered on his face. It also didn’t help that he was looking toward the front of the room like a deer caught in headlights—a very guilty deer at that.
“Robbie, please stop pulling on Annaleise’s braid and keep your hands to yourself, or I’m going to have to move you up front,” Serena said calmly, giving the little boy his one and only warning.
“Yes, ma’am,” he replied solemnly, his face a bright pink at now being the center of unwanted attention.
Serena didn’t miss the small, satisfied look on Annaleise’s face as they both picked up their chapter books and continued to silently read along with the rest of the class. With it being well into the second semester of the school year, Serena knew all of her students well enough to distinguish each child’s personality. Robbie wasn’t a bully. He just had a little boy crush on Annaleise, and it didn’t help matters that the little girl sometimes encouraged the attention and at other times tattled on him, like today.
