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Chapter Two
Tessa
“One of your many hook ups?” I ask as Dylan’s phone chimes out and I have no idea why I say it. It sounds so unbelievably petty and immature coming out of my mouth. I’m better than this. I took the high road when I realized what we were doing wasn’t satisfying what I needed.
I changed the rules, not him and I don’t get to hold that against him now, but that doesn’t mean I’m not a little bitter about him not wanting something more with me. No person likes to feel rejection even if he didn’t exactly reject me. It’s more complicated than that.
“No,” Dylan replies, a bit of a bite to his reply. “And why do you care anyway? You’re the one who…” he stops short of finishing, his lips quirking up at the corner as if he’s just thought of something. “So, tell me, did you take the job here because you knew I worked here?”
I laugh out loud, covering my mouth as I splutter on the food I’m chewing, nearly choking myself. He’s bold. He always has been, and stupidly I find his confidence strangely endearing. He has no idea that he isn’t god’s gift to women, but he loves to believe he is. He’s going to need to step up his game if he thinks I’m ever going to believe that.
“Contrary to what you think, Dylan, I am here for a job. It’s so I can pay my bills and put food on my table,” I quip back, because verbal sparring with him is far more entertaining sitting across from him and catching the looks on his face.
He’s obviously terrible at poker, giving up his hand immediately with the raise of his eyebrows at my response.
“And had you not been so damn secretive about, well, everything, I would have known you worked here and possibly passed up the job,” I now add, grabbing for another forkful. If he doesn’t start eating soon, he’s going to find himself with an empty plate.
“So had I told you, would you have skipped out on this job?” he now asks, and it’s like he can read my mind. His question is asked with an arrogance that screams he knows I’m full of shit.
I would never have turned down this job. It’s been nothing but an uphill climb building this business and declining to work for Lauren Somerville and her successful winery would be considered the most idiotic business move ever.
When she called to set up a meeting about adding on to her existing home with the possibility of additional jobs, I nearly pissed my pants with excitement. It’s the largest job I’ve taken on and I’m pretty damn proud of myself for parlaying a home addition into several other renovations and designing of new property structures.
I’m staring at him and his stupid gorgeous face, knowing I should say something but telling him any of this is so out of our comfort zone. I’m here to clear the air and all it feels like I’m doing is clouding it up with messy details.
“Beard looks good on you,” I say instead, and he smiles, his lips turning up unexpectedly, almost like he isn’t aware he’s doing it. I love that my compliment catches him off guard and instead of his cocky arrogance, I get a peek at the real Dylan.
“Thanks. You look good too, Tess.”
My heart ramps up a few notches, my stomach fluttering in a way that feels like I should get up and leave now. The way he says my name, using a nickname I only reserve for him despite my dislike of it, makes me reconsider whether I’m okay with the whole friends with benefits thing. But no. I’m not doing that again and I won’t give him an ultimatum or make him choose. Nothing good ever comes from that. If he wants more, then he can pursue me.
“Thanks,” I reply, brushing him off and not wanting him to know he has me a little worked up over a stupid comment that he probably doesn’t even mean and is just saying to get me back in bed. “But we’re here to clear the air.”
“You said that already,” he replies, looking around, scratching at his scruffy chin.
“Well, I’m going to be here a lot.”
“So will I.”
“And you’ll probably run into me,” I add, not sure where the hell I’m even going with this conversation.
“Same here.”
“Oh my god, Dylan, why are you being so fucking weird?” I whisper-shout, leaning closer to him so the people around us don’t hear.
“I’m being weird?” he quips, pulling his head back and tapping his chest with his hand. “You’re the one who came to clear the air and now you’re eating my lunch and talking about seeing me at work.”
“How do you think we should be clearing the air?” I bite back.
“I have no idea. I didn’t think anything needed clearing. You said you didn’t want to fuck me anymore and I’ll be honest, I was pretty disappointed, but I’m over it now.”
I laugh out loud, looking around and wondering if anyone nearby can hear this ridiculous mess we have going on right now.
“You’re over it, huh?” Suddenly I’m insulted and now I want him to see what a catch I am. “I gotta say, I think you’re full of shit,” I announce, coming right out with it and now it’s him chuckling.
“What makes you say that?” he asks, smirking as he pulls the plate closer to him and takes a forkful.
“I saw the look on your face when you saw me. It pretty much screamed you were not over it.” I nod, wrinkling up my nose, teasing him and wondering how he’ll respond.
