Last chapter that's prewritten, I've spoiled you. Doesn't mean I'm not working on 7 but today is my daughters 16th bday and so pretty sure I won't post it today. Tomorrow probably. On that note I wanted to give you something real special. You want to know more about what's happening and maybe what Dylan is really feeling. Well here you go. I know some of you are really mad at Dylan, I don't think it will last. We see a little of our Dylan in here and I hope I did it justice. Confrontation #1 is finally here. Enjoy :)
Chapter 6
Brenda
The next day was operation Emma and Wes. All I wanted was for Emma to be happy. She deserved it. She worked so hard helping Nat, she stopped school when her mom was sick, then lost her mom and even though she talk about her brother fondly, she was alone. Love may not be in the cards for me, but it didn't mean it couldn't be for Emma.
The next day, I had to manipulate Emma into a girls night with me. Did I feel lousy I would ditch her?
Nope, she needed a push, and I was the person for the job. It was getting annoying to see both Wes and Emma fawn over each other. So I was being a matchmaker…sue me. Someone out of the two of us needed to get laid.
So I secretly talked to Wes when he came in for his morning cup of coffee and planned a night out at the Maybourne Bar. It was close by. I had never been there, but I knew of the place. It had been there back when I lived here.
Emma and I were in my shed, aka 2nd closet. "Emma, close your mouth," I said as I rummaged through my clothes.
I found the perfect emerald skater dress, black booties, and a black leather jacket. It was chic and cool. Emma's only request was no heels. She was scared to end up in a neck brace.
"Are you opening a small boutique?" she joked.
"Nah…that's Donna's thing, I'm giving you a makeover for tonight." Once I grabbed my stuff, I dragged Emma to my little room. It was odd having her here, no one had visited me here since I'd been staying here.
"Emma," I said as I straightened her waves.
"Yeah?"
"I'm glad we're friends." I could see her grin reflected in the mirror, and it hit me deep in the feels.
"I'm glad we're friends too."
"You look beautiful." I grabbed oils and put it on her hair so it wouldn't frizz. Looking at herself in the mirror, Emma seemed to forget her worries. Quincy and Jess were holding the fort down tonight, and it made Emma nervous since she had never taken a night off, which was another reason I didn't feel guilty about lying to her.
To keep up appearances, I had to wear a dress. Not that I minded, I loved dressing up. Mine was a long sleeved tight one, and black, the whole back was open. I loved it. It made me feel sexy, and let's face it, after the weeks I had, I needed to feel desired. Too bad there wasn't anyone worth looking at.
Wes didn't count, and he-who-shall-not-be-named most definitely didn't count. My dress was awesome, and my silver stilettos rocked. Hopefully, Emma didn't hate me after today.
"Wow, Brenda, no one has ever dolled me up like this."
Where I was dark and jaded, Emma was sunlight and innocence, and it sucked that she was also lonely.
"Well, with me by your side, you can count on it," I said.
"My bother was right about you. You're pretty amazing."
I didn't expect to be overcome with emotion. "Thanks Emma…so are you."
Nat was in the living room as we made our way out.
"Well you ladies look nice…where you off to?"
"Girls night out Nat."
"Well…don't do anything I wouldn't do." He cracked up and it made me and Emma laugh.
Emma didn't suspect a thing; she even let me drive to the bar. I parked in the first spot I found. It wasn't very far from the entrance. People were outside loitering. Emma fidgeted with the hem of her dress, a sign she was nervous.
"Emma." I held her arm before she opened her door. "Don't be afraid to take risks because you're scared you'll get hurt. Take it from someone who once had it all, nothing beats that feeling I had in my heart every time I saw him. Sure, it hurts now, but back then, every time our eyes locked, I felt the world fade. The way your heart races, the thoughts that flow through your head, and all those butterflies you get right before he kisses you. If I close my eyes, I can still picture it in my mind so perfectly clear, and those feelings come back, and they remind me how it felt to be in love. Nothing compares. Not a penthouse with a view, not a closet filled with designer clothes. Don't be scared to open your heart because you're afraid of a little pain. You'll end up regretting it."
As much as it hurt, those three years I spent with my boy are some of my most cherished memories. Even in high school before Kelly and Dylan dropped their bomb on me…still cherished memories and I'd be lying if there wasn't some cherished memories after either.
"Oookay." Emma got out of the car thinking I was crazy. My words might not make sense now, but they would.
Grabbing her hand, I led her in through the doors, ignoring the stares we were getting.
"Brenda, people are staring… I've changed my mind. Hell, we can even vandalize Kelly's car, just as long as you take the blame."
Keeping a firm hold on Emma's arm, I dragged her toward the back were Wes said he would wait for us. Emma stiffened when she saw him. Her eyes widened with horror while Wes's were filled with affection. The soft look he gave her eased my conscience, and I told myself it wasn't a bitch move to leave my girl with him.
All girls wanted love, even if we said otherwise. We just didn't want to sound like pathetic little bitches.
"Wes, fancy meeting you here." My smile was wide and extra cheesy.
"You look lovely." He only had eyes for Emma. Nudging her seemed to make her remember we were in a crowded bar.
"Hey." Her voice was soft like a lullaby. It didn't take long for me to leave. I told Emma I was going to the bathroom and gave Wes a look. We both knew I wasn't coming back. I just hoped Emma didn't hate me after this.
When I made my way out of the bar, the smell from Alfonsos made my mouth water. I realized I hadn't eaten anything all day and I was starving. So instead of driving, I started walking toward the restaurant that was a little over two blocks away.
It wasn't the best idea, I was freezing by the time I made it to Alfonzo's.
My fingers were cold, and my back was a sharp wind away from getting frostbite. Even thinking about the word frostbite brought an ache.
I was pathetic. This was California I know its not that cold but it was chilly tonight.
I pulled the door open and was greeted with the smell of fresh pasta. My mouth watered. My head was already trying to decide what I was craving when my body collided with someone else.
I hear a sharp intake of breath and felt fingers digging into my waist almost painfully. My heart thumped wildly, and my blood raced. I didn't have to look up to know who I had collided with. I knew whose arms I was in.
I was home.
I was in Dylan's arms.
After what happened last time, why was I letting him touch me?
Because the feeling was familiar. It didn't matter that three years had passed since the last time he held me.
I remembered.
My body remembered.
My heart never forgot.
Giving myself a mental pep talk, I looked up, even though I didn't want to. I tried to stop it, but my eyes found him in an instant.
Our eyes locked, and in a way, it felt like it was for the first time all over again. He wasn't blowing me off, telling me we were friends, or telling me I was lousy in bed.
Dylan's gaze traveled from my face all the way down to my toes. My belly tingled, my legs wobbled, and my sex ached. This was not happening. What was it about Dylan McKay that made me forget the ocean of hurt and regret between us? What was it about him that made it impossible to look away and try to forget?
I needed to learn to live in a world where the words Dylan and Brenda never existed together. "Let me go," I pleaded.
Dylan smirked at me. "You know I felt the way your body shivered. I'd say you like it when I touch you."
"It's cold outside," was my lame attempt to save face. It wasn't a complete lie. Fall was already here; it usually was my favorite season. It had been a long time since I was here in the fall. I used to love it—this year, not so much. Every day that passed was another day closer to the wedding.
Before either of us could say something, Mr. Carson walked in, causing us both to jump back. "Brenda," he said my name a little hesitantly, and I briefly wondered if he thought something was going on with Dylan and me.
"Mr. Carson." I smiled, trying to hide my discomfort. I didn't miss in my peripheral Dylan double take on hearing the last name. Even though it was awkward seeing Stuart's dad, I walked with him to put in my order, leaving Dylan behind. I felt his molten stare at my bare back. Feeling exposed, I regretted my choice of dress.
"How is your mom and dad Brenda?" Mr. Carson asked.
"They're good." My reply was short. I kept quiet so uncomfortable I may die. I was glad when they called my order. It gave me an excuse to leave Mr. Carson's vicinity.
When I turned around, Dylan was staring at me, and there was concern written all over his face. I might not know this new him, but he seemed to still recognize me. He gave me a look and then turned his gaze to Mr. Carson. He wanted to know if I was okay, and that did things to me. It lit a little ember of hope that had no business lighting up.
I walked away, on the plus side, Kelly wasn't with him. Unfortunately for me, Stuart Carson was at a table by the front door waiting on his dad. Fucking great. Seriously, he was still a handsome bastard. I know karma already gave me mine, but couldn't it have given Stuart his first?
For real, give him a beer gut or were two other men at their table. Hopefully that would be incentive enough for Stuart to ignore me.
"Brenda Walsh." My eyes closed, and I fisted my free hand. I could keep walking, but I wasn't one to shy away, especially from dick heads like Stuart.
"Stuart," I said in acknowledgment. The two men who were sitting with them looked at me. "Come here and give an old friend some love." The fucking asshole pushed his chair back and stood up. I ignored him and instead introduced myself to their companions.
"This is Chad," Stuart said, "and Drake." Drake held my hand longer than necessary.
"Brenda and I almost got married. Pity it didn't work out. You've grown up." Stuart gaze started at the top of my head, and ran slowly all the way down to my toes. Drake actually leaned back to ogle my ass, I felt repulsed.
Suddenly I felt electricity next to me, I felt Dylan's glare.
Stuart laughed, "Look who it is. McKay…been a long time."
"Not long enough." Dylan muttered.
He continued to chuckle, "Let me guess. She's back with you?"
Neither Dylan nor I commented. He laughed assuming, "Not surprising, you always wanted what was mine." I felt Dylan step closer to the table. My hand went to his chest.
"Son of a bitch." He breathed. I pushed him back a little.
"Enjoy your meal. Nice meeting you. I need to get going before my food gets cold." I walked to the door and left without another word to Stuart.
What a major dickwad.
When I stepped outside, it had gotten colder, and I hated my dress at that moment. Okay, not really, but I guess fashion wasn't always comfortable.
"Brenda!" I walked faster when I heard my name being shouted. My heart was trying to beat out of my chest, urging me to turn around and jump into the arms of a man who no longer wanted it. I felt relieved when I didn't hear his voice again. I told myself this was good; it was what I wanted.
"It's cold, Brenda. Get in the car." His husky tone gave me more chills than the wind. I had spoken too soon. There he was driving his Porsche right next to me. Do you know what I didn't do? Get in the car.
I kept walking, holding the food close to my chest, finding comfort in the heat it was emitting and pretending like Dylan McKay was not following me.
"Brenda, get in the car," he demanded.
I mocked his command without thinking. "Get in the car, Brenda."
"Are you mocking me?"
"No."
"Jesus Christ, Brenda, it's fucking cold. Get in the car before you get sick."
"Jesus Christ, Brenda," I mimicked again.
Dylan sped off, and I could breathe properly now that he wasn't driving alongside me. Still, I kept walking because sagging to the ground was unacceptable. Then suddenly, when I was about to cross the street, there was Dylan cutting me off and blocking my path. He stepped out of his car, not caring it was illegal to park in the middle of the street. Then again, he could afford to pay any fine.
As he approached, it was like I forgot how much his presence tilted my axis. I tried not to think about him and what he said in his office, but dammit it hurt.
You weren't that good.
It sucked, but I compared Ashton to him. Ash paled in comparison, and to Dylan I wasn't enough.
I wasn't special.
I was nothing.
I stopped walking, scared to take another step. If I pressed the food any tighter to my chest, I would find myself covered in marinara and penne.
"Let me give you a ride. Please, it's fucking cold and your basically naked." He opened the passenger door to his car. It would be childish if I walked around him, wouldn't it?
"I'm not naked," I muttered as I made my way to his passenger side before anyone saw us, or cars honked.
Dylan didn't move; he was holding the door for me. It made me nervous and self-conscious. I was unable to breathe. My back jolted when he put his hand on my bare skin. I was cold from not having a jacket, so when Dylan touched me it burned.
"You're freezing." His breath fanned my back, and I almost lost it when his finger traced down my spine.
"You're not wearing a bra," he croaked, and I couldn't help the small whimper that left my lips. "Dammit, get in the car, Brenda," he growled in my ear. He fucking growled. I was about to protest, but he pushed me in.
I watched him as he made his way over to the driver's side. When Dylan climbed into the car, it suddenly wasn't big enough; there wasn't enough air for both of us. I wondered if he was thinking about the last time we were together in a car like this? I knew I was trying not to.
"You can drop me off Nat's truck is right up the road."
My face turned away from him. It was easier that way. Why torture myself more? There was no point in it anymore. When Dylan spoke, his voice was much gentler than it had been.
"I'm not cashing the check, Brenda. Nat and I had a previous arrangement. Kelly didn't agree to it, she has nothing to do with it, that's her problem, not yours." I said nothing. I already had a feeling he wouldn't cash it. Not because of me but because of Nat. So, I'd mailed Kelly another check.
"Are you okay…about what happened in there," he added.
"Stuart has always been a dick, not surprised by his attitude, I'm sure he is still butt hurt on how I left him, I wonder if he ever found that diamond ring in the pool?"
He laughed out loud, and I couldn't help but turn to look at him. Since my return, I'd seen Dylan smile, but I hadn't heard his laughter. It was like listening to an old song you forgot you used to love, and when you heard it again, you wondered how the hell you ever forgot it in the first place. Hearing him laugh made me sad. I used to make him laugh all the time. I used to make him smile. I was the one who made him happy.
"Are you okay about happened in there?" I asked back.
Dylan shook his head, "No…his friend couldn't stop staring at your ass." He took a deep breath almost as if he was calming himself, he looked over at me, "Not that I could blame the bastard."
I looked down trying to hide my smirk. Dylan drove slowly, but the ride was still over quickly. When Nat's truck came into view, Dylan spoke.
"I'm sorry for what I said in my office. It was out of line…Brenda…I didn't mean it." He breathed out and looked at me, "It's not even true…you were amazing…we were always ama…"
I held my hand up to stop him from saying more. I might not know this new Dylan, but traces of my Dylan were still in there. My Dylan wasn't mean, and when he was, he always apologized.
Kelly was lucky, and I hated that I handed Dylan off to her, that he found in her the love he once got from me.
With one hand on my door, I turned to look at him. "I wanted you to hate me—like actually hate me so that the mere sight of me would make you sick. I thought it would make this easier. But you act so indifferent or you act awful, I'm not sure which is worse. I know it won't mean much, especially now, but I'm sorry. I'm sorry for leaving as I did. You deserved so much better...I'm glad you found it." I whispered the last part.
I got out of the car before I confessed things that were too late to say. There was no point. He didn't know it, but he had my heart, my soul, my love. He always would.
Dylan
Dylan I wanted you hated me.
Her softly spoken words slayed me, piercing my heart, and I wished I didn't fucking hate her. Because actually hating Brenda…was an emotion I wasn't familiar with. I didn't know how to act. I was stuck in the middle of wanting to ravish her and yell at her. Couldn't she see it all was an act? Didn't she know me better than that? That being courteous to her is my way of showing that she didn't rip my heart out. That pretending like she didn't break me was easier than letting her know how much it affected me when she left me. I was not the same guy who fell in love with her, the same kid who thought he was a lucky son of a bitch because he had Brenda Walsh. That guy died the day I found her fucking letter.
I slammed my hand against the steering wheel, making the car swerve. It wasn't my car's fault how pissed I was. If I didn't care, then why was the note she left me still in my wallet ready to fall apart? I didn't have to read it to know what it said. I memorized every single word she wrote because it was the last thing I had of her.
The promise ring I had given her I threw off the London Bridge. I sat on the bridge and watched it sink. When she left I sat in our apartment for a month before returning to LA. Just hoping she would waltz back in. She never did.
When I made it to the look out up Mulholland Drive, I put the car in park. Got out of the car and sat upon my hood.
We had came here many times to make out in the good old days but after Brenda left, when I came back to LA, I used to come up here all the time.
It was in this damn place where I remembered her best. Where I could hear her laughter in the wind. Smell her perfume in the air.
It was a place where she gave herself to me a hand full of times, all of herself, and I swore, if I closed my eyes, I could still see her lying under me, looking up with trust, want, and love.
Bad in bed, Jesus…how could I say that to the girl that gave me all of her. God I hated myself.
How did we end up like this? I looked up at the stars, hoping like hell they had an answer because I had moved on. I had let her go, ready to move on to a life without her.
"Why didn't anyone tell me she would come back?"
Brenda
Where had the time gone? Wasn't I supposed to be looking for a new dream? Or figuring out how to continue this one? Getting my shit together and figuring out what I would do now? I had done everything but get my shit sorted. I had been in knots since I got here. I was confident I would have been fine living the rest of my life in denial, but that wasn't an option anymore. It was fine when in the back of my mind lingering feelings for Dylan still existed. Admitting my feelings only made them real.
Trust me, it should be a sport the way I pretended not to notice Kelly walking into Dylan's office with a bag of lunch or when his car passed by the Pit and I saw her in the passenger seat.
I had talked Nat into giving me a ride over to Brandon's. I wanted my brother and I to be good. Don't get me wrong we were but Brandon and I hand't lived in the same city for seven long ass years. I was going to take advantage of it now. Plus Val was here and that was the icing on the cake.
"Bye, Nat, thanks for the ride." I kissed his cheek and got out of the car.
The first thing I saw was Brandon with Dylan.
Damn, I couldn't get a break from this guy. It was too late for me to turn around and wave Nat back over. I would look like a coward.
Squaring my shoulders, I pretended to strut up the driveway like I was Queen B.
Dylan's gaze felt heavy on my skin. I tried not to think about it; instead, I focused on my strut. It was safe to say I wouldn't be making Beyoncé proud anytime soon.
"Hey guys," I greeted with a smile. Both Dylan and Brandon gave each other a side glance.
"Here to hang out with Val. Bye."
"Brenda, can I talk to you for a second?"
Dylan took a step toward me. I looked pleadingly at Brandon, but he put his hands up in surrender and went inside the house. Traitor.
Dylan grabbed my elbow and dragged me to the side of the house, right next to his car. I turned to look back to see if someone would come to my rescue. Brandon was pulling Valerie back to stop her from peeking out the window. So much for helping me.
Dylan didn't stop dragging me until we were standing in front of the hood of his car.
A flashback came to mind, when Dylan rented a Porsche like this one in London and we drove through the English countryside.
Yeah, last time we started in this position, Dylan ended up with his pants on the floor. Actually one of the last times we made love was on the hood of his car.
"You know when you said we'd be civil, I figured we'd ignore each other," I joked.
Dylan opened his mouth, but before he spoke, his phone rang. He answered it harshly.
"Leave it," he clipped out. "Kelly, I said to leave it alone," he barked. "I'm tired of this conversation. Don't you fucking dare…leave it alone." He hung up on her.
I took a step back, and that was a mistake because my butt pressed against the car. I had nowhere else to go.
Dylan's eyes flared, noticing my movement. He took a deep breath and loosened his tie. When Dylan took a step toward me, he trapped me between him and the car. Even if I could move, I didn't think I wanted to.
"You sent a fucking check?" His eyes were burning, and I could almost taste the rage that was rolling off him. I could see the strain on his face. It was difficult for him to keep it together; no one was that still. I was about to open my mouth and tell him 'damn right I sent a check,' but he didn't let me speak.
"Fuck, Brenda." He ran a hand over his face, trying hard not to lose it. "You think I don't fucking hate you? Do you think I enjoy walking around and seeing you? The sight of you causes me pain."
I knew I said I wanted him to hate me, but hearing him say those words ripped my heart.
"You know how hard it was to move on? I saw you in every single thing I did and all the woman I slept with, and it was never enough because they never compared. None of them were you. Your fucking ghost kept following me everywhere I went. It haunted me. And when I finally get my shit together, when for the first time I stopped seeing you in everything I did and the thought of picturing my life without you didn't scare me, you fucking come back. Every time I see you, Brenda, it burns. I can't fucking breathe. It feels like I'm suffocating, and the worst part is that I fucking like it. That burn I feel every time I see you serves as a reminder that you're back. That you're real. That we were real."
A sob tore through me, making Dylan's eyes zero in on my lips. In one swift move, he had me in his arms.
Dylan's forehead rested on top of my own, his nose gliding down my cheek. We were so close to each other, but the years of running had finally caught up. I felt the warmth of his breath on my cheek, his soft lips leaving featherlight kisses on my jaw. I couldn't move?
I felt alive at this moment, and I knew his lips on my skin was a luxury. A luxury I couldn't have anymore.
"Why can't I forget you, Brenda?" he croaked. "Why are you still so deep in there?"
"Don't Dylan." The words left my lips before I had time to process why I even said them.
Dylan was about to kiss me. If he did that, it would ruin me.
"You don't get to say anything, Dylan." I pushed him off me, getting much-needed space to breathe. "Yes, I left, but you, Dylan, you let me go."
He slammed his hand on the hood of his car, making me flinch.
"You fucking left with someone else, Brenda. You picked someone else over me! Tell me how the fuck did you expect me to go after you when you left town with someone who wasn't me? After everything that we had been through the years before and that stupid ultimatum senior year. Me choosing wrong and what that did to you, for making me understand what I had did to you in that wrong choice, working through all that shit so we were stronger, better, forever, and then you did the exact same to me."
The agony in his voice broke me. "I lived for your smiles and the way you clung to me at night when we sat outside on our balcony watching the stars. At sixteen, I knew you were it for me… Still, you left with him."
I couldn't hold it in. Not anymore. "It was a lie, Dylan. It was the only way I knew you would let me go."
My voice was soft; it took everything in me to reveal the truth. Maybe I should've told him everything, but it was too late now.
Dylan belonged to someone else. A piece of lost history would not change that. He said it himself, he was ready to move on with his life. What happened if I told him and it changed nothing?
Dylan's intake of breath, reminded me of the one I had when he told me Kelly was the girl. It was shock, it was gasp, it was unforgettable. His eyes shined with tears as he got in his car, slamming the door.
I stayed in the driveway, watching him drive away. I stood there until his car was nothing but a dot on the horizon.
Numbly, I walked into Brandon's house, both him and Valerie were sitting on the sofa pretending like they hadn't been spying on us.
"Are you okay?" Valerie said next to my brother.
I shook my head. "I'm going back to London."
"What? Because of Dylan? What did that son of a bitch do?" Brandon, unlike Val, jumped up. "You can't leave, Bren. I just got you back, I need you."
"You don't need me, Brandon. You never have." I took a step toward him. I know Brandon so well; it wasn't often that he freaked out.
As soon as I opened my arms for a hug, he was crushing me to his body.
"I always needed you. I know it's hard here and the wedding…" I sobbed out. "Don't you think it's hard for me too?" Brandon whispered. "I need you to get through it."
I slowly separated us, looking into my brothers eyes. He was in agony. I felt it, his emotions mirrored mine. He hid so well.
"You want her back?" I was more surprised than anything. She was wretched.
He shook his head, "No…I don't want her back but it doesn't mean that I want her ending up with him. I love Dylan. I do. He's like a brother to me. But I know he's making the biggest mistake of his life."
Instead of saying anything, I hugged Brandon a little tighter, letting him know I was here. Brandon kissed the top of my head. "I'm sorry I wasn't there for you when you needed me." Brandon whispered.
"It's okay Bran. I wasn't the best sister either." I sighed.
"But you're here now, we'll make it right again. You can't leave, or else you give up your godmother rights on David and Donna's baby."
I left his arms smiling. "Nice try." I laughed, wiping my tears.
"I'll get you through this Bren…we all will this time." I cried more. Fuck. That hit me right in the chest. I felt so thrown away when Dylan picked Kelly in high school. Dylan and I had worked through it. I hadn't worked through it with the gang. I guess all my interactions with them since I had been back, were making a lot more sense.
I looked over at Valerie, who was wiping her eyes pretending she didn't have feelings like she always did. Then she smiled at me.
Whatever problems we faced, we would always be Walsh's. And Walsh's got through shit together.
By the time Brandon took me to the pit for my shift, I realized that I had forgotten the possibility of Emma being mad at me for ditching her. I also realized that the smell of coffee grounds and mega burgers smelled like home. Shit, maybe it wasn't even the smell but just the place, being here with family and friends.
When I walked in, Emma was up to the wall with people. I guess everyone was getting their caffeine fix and grease in before they got ready for the homecoming game at West Beverly.
Q and Jess had the day off, which meant it was Emma and me. Shit.
"Hello to the loveliest, most awesome boss ever."
"I'm not your boss," Emma said as she made an espresso.
"So, on a scale of I won't fire you to I never want to see you set foot in this diner again, how much do you hate me?"
Emma gave me the silent treatment. It wasn't hard to do since we were busy. "Do you want me to leave?"
I asked once we were alone. "I'm sorry for overstepping." I went to grab my purse, feeling ashamed. All I wanted was for Emma to seize her chance at love, not for her to hate me. I wanted her to have what I had lost.
"Dammit, I can't do it. I can't stay mad." Emma fisted her hands. "That was shitty. You left me there with him."
"Did it suck?" When she didn't immediately answer, I pursed my lips to stop myself from smiling.
"That's not the point." She waved her arms in the air. "You didn't ask me."
"You would have said no."
"I wouldn't have." I stared at her, crossed my arms, and waited.
"Okay, I would have. Next time you set Wes and me on a date, at least warn me first."
"Are you saying you're open to another date? I can pass the word along," I teased.
Emma threw coffee grounds at me. Despite the easiness of our conversation, I still felt tense. I knew it had to do with everything else going on at the moment.
"Dylan stopped by." Emma handed me a mocha coffee. I had to give it to her, she had a talent for knowing what kind of drink you needed. Chocolate and caffeine worked best when they were together.
"Dylan always stops by," I added nonchalantly.
Emma pointed to the blackboard. If she thought it was worth mentioning, I prepared myself to read the words he had written.
Be careful with your words. Once they are said, they can only be forgiven not forgotten.
I knew what Dylan was talking about. He was talking about that freaking letter I left him.
"You want to talk about it?" I shook my head.
"He's engaged to Kelly of all people. There's nothing to talk about."
Emma hugged me while we pretended that the words on the blackboard weren't haunting me. Today was not a good day.
"Wow, who is that?" Emma was swooning, and she never swooned. I was cleaning mugs and plates off the counter when I looked up to see who had Emma drooling.
The cup in my hands fell and shattered. I guess it was for the best. It was like the universe was doing me a solid before I could throw it across the room at Ashton's face.
All the time we were together, not once did he ever just show up somewhere. He didn't bring me lunch when we were working. We barely had lunch together and we worked together. Now that we were over, it was like he couldn't get enough of me. He even came to another country for me. Unbelievable.
I tried to see Ashton through Emma's eyes, and I guess he was swoon-worthy. Brown hair with a tint of red, lean, fit, green eyes, and a sharp jaw.
On the outside, Ashton was a catch, but to make a relationship work, it took more than a pretty face.
Why didn't he get that some lovely words would not change my mind? Beautiful words weren't enough to hide the emptiness that was our relationship. Sometimes we latched on to people because some attention was better than no affection.
Grasping at straws, I led myself into a relationship that would never work. I guess that was what happened when you were a ghost; you didn't need much to make it work since you weren't even there.
"What are you doing here, Ashton?" I asked as I swept up the broken mug. My ex-boyfriend stopped at the counter his hands inside the pockets of his jeans.
"I missed you, Brenda." His voice was sincere. "Can we talk? Please."
I was about to say no, but I had a feeling he would keep insisting, and there were things I had to tell him.
"Yeah, that's fine." I got out to sit at a table with him, but he shook his head. "I made reservations tomorrow at seven, at that little restaurant across the street." I wanted to roll my eyes.
Ocean Prime wasn't a little restaurant; it was the fancy steak house in Beverly Hills.
"Sure," I said, annoyed it was so like him to make plans, not caring if I could do it or not.
Both Emma and I watched him leave. The few people who passed by him stared, but that was Ash, he commanded attention.
"That was your boyfriend? Why'd you let him go? He's dreamy." Emma stood on her Chuck-covered tiptoes to watch Ashton cross the street.
I turned around, resting my back on the counter. "He was fucking my understudy on my couch."
"Oh... wow. Did you walk in on him?"
"Yep…balls deep as he fucked her from behind."
"Why is he still breathing?" Emma grumbled.
I laughed.
If she only knew.
DUN DUN DUNNNNNN. Ashton in town? Dylan all telling. So much happening. So how did I do? Do you still think Dylan is a full fledge A hole? He is just hurting. He didn't expect to see her ever again. Now it's this big mess. Some people are a little confused on Brenda wanting Dylan to "hate" her and Dylan "hating" her. But hate is also a reflection of love. If someone cares enough to hate someone…it's telling. It means they matter. They matter a lot. So I think it's safe to tell you all a little secret, hate in this story…means love sometimes. Think about it, "I wanted you to hate (love) me—like actually hate (love) me so that the mere sight of me would make you sick." "Her softly spoken words slayed me, piercing my heart, and I wished I didn't fucking hate (love) her." See :) Of course it's not always like that hate means hate too but just wanted to show you guys what I intended there. I hope you enjoyed it. Tell me how your feeling. Like I said 7 will be posted tomorrow. REVIEW! II love them so much!