Dylan

 

I woke to the sun streaming through the high basement window in my room and pins and needles dancing all through my arm. Strands of long black hair clung to my lips and a soft body curved around mine.

Eden.

Closing my eyes, I instructed my body not to react. This girl was sixteen years old. Sixteen! Besides that, she was Josh’s little sister. Her family, her parents and her brother, trusted me.

And she’d been through hell. I’d never seen Eden like she was last night. She was completely destroyed. Well, not completely. Eden was strong. She wouldn’t let this get her down for long. But, man, it was all I could do to not get up and hunt Marshall down. And I still might.

Not wanting to wake her, but needing to move my arm, it was so devoid of blood flow, I inched out from under her silken head, watching closely for signs she was waking up. Breathing a sigh of relief when she remained asleep, I rolled from my side to my back, rubbing my hand over my face when I realized my legs were entwined with hers.

I had to get out of this bed.

Rolling inch by inch, I disentangled myself from the sheets and Eden. Standing beside the bed, I watched her sleep for just a moment. She looked so perfect with her cheek pillowed against her black hair, her hand curled under her chin, her body wrapped in my clothes and my bed.

I had to get out of this room.

Pulling aside the curtain over my window, I checked to see if her parents were home. Glancing down the street, I saw Eden’s mom’s car was still at her house, but her dad’s BMW was gone. The clock on my nightstand said it was almost nine. I had time to take a quick- cold- shower before waking Eden up. The need to rid myself of my raging hormones was overwhelming.

 

Eden

 

“Ed.” The whispered word tried to force its way passed my sleepy brain.

“Ed,” the voice said again. Ed. Only one person called me Ed and there was no reason for that person to be in my room trying to wake me up. I was probably dreaming. I had more Dylan dreams than I allowed myself to think about. Although, in my dreams he always called me Eden.

“Ed, come on. You have to wake up. I just saw your mom leave for the gym.” A gentle shake accompanied the demand this time.

When I opened my eyes, my senses were overwhelmed. First, with the clean scent of Dylan’s body wash. Then, the soft and comforting feel of his t-shirt and sheets. I wanted nothing more than to close my eyes and revel in the sensation of home I felt laying there surrounded by all things Dylan. All that was missing was Dylan himself. Had he slept beside me last night?

My gaze collided with his.

Embarrassment flooded my cheeks.

Oh, my hell!

Groaning, I lifted the sheet over my head. I slept in Dylan’s bed last night! He told me I was beautiful. He told me he loved me. A flood of emotions assaulted me. Embarrassment. Contentment. Worry. Gratitude. Pain. Longing.

Longing.

No.

I shook myself from that train of thought. Dylan had been nothing but a gentleman last night. He’d taken care of me when he had absolutely no obligation to do so. He’d put himself on the chopping block bringing me here and letting me stay. He’d comforted me when I’d felt so alone.

“Eden.” He didn’t want to alarm me, but I heard the urgency in his voice.

I needed to leave. Josh. My parents. Dylan’s parents. The explanations wouldn’t be worth it. I didn’t want to put either of us through that. Dylan didn’t deserve the scrutiny he’d be under for what happened here last night.

Closing my eyes, I inhaled deeply and tried to memorize this moment. I wanted to stay there forever. But I couldn’t. Finally, I threw back the covers.

Dylan smiled. “Goodness, you’re adorable.” His smile faded like he hadn’t meant to say that. He probably hadn’t. The circumstances were unusual. I’ve never even been in Dylan’s room before this, let alone had a sleepover in his bed.

Smiling, I scooted to the edge of the bed, knowing I couldn’t let myself think anything more of this situation than what it was. Dylan rescuing me and Dylan protecting me. I was his best friend’s sister. Nothing more.

“Dylan-”

“It’s okay,” he interrupted me. He had a bit of a deer-in-the-headlights look about him. Reaching into a drawer, he pulled out a gray sweatshirt with the word ARMY across it in large black letters. “Here,” he said tossing it to me.

I pulled it over my head.

“My clothes-” I felt rash now for throwing them in the trash can. But I still didn’t want them.

“I took them out to the dumpster. Don’t worry about it.” His eyes were full of sympathy. I fought the tears filling mine, pushing my emotions down as far as they would go. I needed to leave.

“I should go.” I felt embarrassed again.

Sneaking out of Dylan’s house. Hurrying across the street in his clothes. Sneaking into my house. I vowed to never put myself in this position ever again.

“I’m going to the gym. I know your house is close but come hop in the truck.” He turned to leave the room, stopping short of the door to pick something up. My sandals.

“I didn’t know how you felt about the shoes.” He smiled and held them out.

I didn’t know, either, but reached for them anyway. “Thanks.” I’d figure that out later.

Dylan nodded and led the way up the stairs to the side entrance we’d used last night. It was Saturday morning and the street was quiet but the last thing either of us needed was the rumor mill getting back to my parents that I spent the night at Dylan’s.

Seconds later, Dylan pulled his truck into our driveway. There was an awkward silence.

“Thank you, Dylan, for coming to get me. I didn’t know who else to call. And for...everything.” All that came out in one breath.

“You’re welcome. I meant what I told you. You can call me anytime. If I’m here, I’ll be there. Always.” He was sincere. I saw it in his eyes and I knew Dylan had changed in mine. He’d gone from being the annoying guy who ate my chips and stole the remote to the tv and became someone who was my friend, too, not just Josh’s.

Reaching for the handle, I opened the door. Before I could get out, Dylan stopped me with a hand on my arm.

“You gonna be okay, Ed?”

Tears stung my eyes and I blinked them back. My mouth opened to answer, but the words would never make it past the lump in my throat, so I nodded. I would be okay. Eventually.

“I’ll see you later.” He moved his hand from my arm and I hurried to get out of his truck before I fell apart and he would feel like he had to pick up the pieces.

Dylan sat in the driveway until I closed the door to my house behind me. All I wanted to do was crawl into my bed and never leave it, but I reeked of Dylan’s scent and as comforting as it was, there was no way my parents wouldn’t notice me smelling like a guy when I usually smelled like strawberries and vanilla. Making my way up to the bathroom, gratitude for Dylan filled me. I had a feeling the memories of what happened with Marshall would live on forever, but those memories would be tempered with the sincere emotion of care and comfort and affection I felt from Dylan. And I would never forget that either.