Beautifully Broken

I close my door and turn the lock out of habit. Dylan takes this as a good sign and perks up even more. He folds his hands behind his head and reclines back onto my pillows. A familiar stirring hits me as I take him in. His athletic build is the type that other girls want and other guys envy. He’s hung too; the perfect blend of length and girth. More importantly, he actually knows what to do with it. Not as much as Gavin does. I shake off the unwanted thought and wonder if I can resume a physical relationship with Dylan and not screw everything else up. I still haven’t moved so he stands from the bed and comes over to me. He grabs my hand and brings it down to wrap around his hardness. Together, our hands pump up and down until a drop of pre-cum leaks from the tip.

“Kat, it’s been so long.” He brushes my wet hair behind my ear and places a soft kiss on my neck. “This tension between us sucks. I think we need to sweat it out.”

I consider my options. Dylan is kind and knows how to make me feel good. He’s brushing his hand over my hip and kissing my neck, as I continue to work him over with my hand. I lean my head back as he pulls me into him and moves his lips across my collarbone. We’ve done this before—many times—and it’s never been awkward. So why does it feel that way now? Wrong even?

I release him and pull away. “Dylan, stop.”

He groans. “I don’t want to stop.”

“Well, I do. You said you wanted to talk.”

It takes him a moment for the lust-induced fog to clear. “I know, but I got so hard thinking about you all wet and soapy in the shower. We can talk after.”

I shake my head. “There’s not going to be an after. Please get dressed.”

“What? Why? I’m not seeing anyone, you’re never seeing anyone, so we’re free to take care of each other.”

“That’s not exactly accurate. I…met a guy. Someone that I really like.”

He scowls and grabs his jeans. Pulling them up he says, “What do you mean you met a guy?”

“I think it’s pretty self-explanatory. I want to try being…exclusive.” The word sounds foreign on my tongue.

“Kat, you don’t do exclusive. You fuck them once and move on. All. The. Time.”

“Not all the time,” I argue.

“You’re right; only when I’m seeing other girls. And I’m not judging—I know you’re really sexual and you have needs. But those other guys don’t even know your real name. I do. I know the real you and I can make you come better than the rest of them.”

Not anymore. I don’t think he’d appreciate that remark so instead I say, “Dylan, you’re my best friend. I don’t want to fuck that up. I don’t think we should have sex anymore.”

“Ever?!”

“Ever,” I confirm.

He throws his shirt over his head and slips his shoes on. “So you’ll take your clothes off in front of strangers but not me—the guy who actually gives a damn about more than just your body?”

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that. That’s different and you know it.”

“Don’t you get sick of it, Kitty? Don’t you want someone to take care of your body and your heart?”

I really do. For the first time in years, I do want more than sex. I want it all—just not from Dylan.

“I think you should leave.”

“I’m not giving up, Kat. When this guy breaks your heart—which we both know is only a matter of time—I’ll be waiting. We’d be good together and you know it.”

The sad part is that he’s probably right…yet I can’t bring myself to stop him from walking away.

I’VE BEEN LIVING ON MY OWN for almost a month now and it’s going surprisingly well. I’m still pulling straight A’s at school and I’m doing so well at the club that I only have to work three nights a week. That gives me plenty of time to study and look into the college application process. I’m applying to several different schools in California as well as two in-state universities. I’m not picky; I’ll go to whichever place accepts me and gives me the most scholarship money. I’m thinking about majoring in business which I can do pretty much anywhere.

“Kat, my aunt said you’re welcome to come over for Thanksgiving dinner if you don’t have any other plans.”

“Thanks, Bree. I might take you up on that. I can’t remember the last time I had a big holiday dinner.” Yes, you can; it was with the Andersons.

“Hello? Earth to Kat!” Bree is waving her hands in front of my face dramatically.

“Sorry, I guess I was spacing out.”