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I walked him to the front door with a smile on my face. Mom and Dad watched warily from the couch as he left, and once he was gone, they asked what the reason for his abrupt visit was.
“Just to see me,” I said with a casual shrug while thinking about his head between my legs and his hard dick in my mouth.
“It’s been a while since he was last here, huh?” Dad commented, the suspicion in his tone clear.
“He’s been busy,” I replied, my answer clipped and nearly defensive.
“I’m sure he is,” Mom muttered, facetious and suggestive.
I was too far from the couch to see their expressions, but how they felt had been displayed just fine in their tones. They didn’t like Dylan, and whether it was his profession, his tattoos and piercings, or the way they felt he treated me, that was their problem, not mine, and I couldn’t wait to see him again.
Whenever that happened to be.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Lennon
Another two weeks went by.
Two whole weeks of waiting by the phone, looking out the window, and wishing I’d receive some sign that the man in my memories existed in my world.
It felt like my whole life was spent waiting. Waiting for someone to give me a ride, waiting for someone to finally make the accommodations I needed to work, waiting for someone to have the two seconds to tell me what color something was. Forever waiting on something or someone, and I was growing more and more tired of it by the second.
But in between moments of frustration, I tried to focus on the positives.
Dylan had texted me a couple of times. Granted, they were only in reply to ones I’d sent him, and they were usually one-worded responses. But it was a win, an improvement, and I was willing to take what I could get.
Tarryn called and told me she got the part of the love interest in an upcoming TV series. I couldn’t have been more thrilled for her, knowing how hard she had worked to get to this point. Years of mediocre drama classes, auditions, schmoozing, and a shitload of hard work had brought her here, and I was glad she was about to receive even more recognition for it.
Even if I was a little jealous.
But jealousy was another key aspect of my life. Jealousy and waiting. And as much as I hated it, I also hated to say that I was used to it.
So, when I wasn’t keeping watch over my phone and the door, I spent those two weeks reading, walking to Reade’s, watching TV with my mom, and looking forward to seeing Dylan for the wedding.
Then, much to my surprise, he initiated a text conversation three days before the event to ask what I was planning to wear.
Me: What if I want it to be a surprise?
Dylan: Hmm … okay, I like surprises. But can you at least tell me the color?
Me: Let me think …
Me: Why do you want to know?
Dylan: Because if I’m your date, I wanna look the part.
Me: Oh. :)
Me: In that case, I’ll let you in on a secret …
Dylan: Please do.
Me: I almost always wear black or gray. That’s it.
Dylan: Woman after my heart.
Me: Wasn’t that obvious already?
