Dylan (Inked Brotherhood 4)

My turn comes to pay for my juice, and I’m so distracted I drop my purse and spill coins everywhere.

Laughter ripples around me. Yeah, your typical college student is also easily amused.

Mortified, I glance in Dylan’s direction, but he seems lost in thought. Thank God. I pay and clutch my juice like a shield in front of me as I make my way toward him. After thinking about Sean, Dylan’s presence makes me feel better. Safe. Warm.

So I approach, taking him in. He’s dressed in well-worn jeans and that old sweater he’s had since high school. He needs no expensive suits. With his broad shoulders and trim body, he’s so hot he’d put any male model to shame

.

It strikes me how much he’s grown from the boy he was when we dated, or even from the boy he was a year ago, with the long, purple bangs. It’s like he’s shed all playfulness, all childishness, as if he had to give it up overnight.

Not sure why, but it makes me sad.

“Hey,” I say, and sit across from him.

He starts, pushing back from the table, and I frown as I notice the dark bags under his blue eyes, and how thin his handsome face has become. He hasn’t shaved for at least a couple of days, and his jaw is covered in golden stubble.

“Tess,” he whispers, and my breath catches. He never calls me that nowadays. “What do you want?”

“You didn’t show up in biology class,” I say, before I lose my nerve. “And I haven’t talked to you in a while. Is everything okay?”

“Fine,” he mutters.

“You’ve missed many classes already.”

“I never enrolled in that class. Or any class.”

“You never…” My brain stalls. “Then why did you show up on the first day?”

“Because I hoped I could do this,” he snaps, and it’s my turn to flinch. “I’m not enrolled in college. Not anymore.”

“That’s a pity,” I whisper. My chest aches.

He gets up. “Look, I’ve got to go.”

“Yeah.” I nod, finally accepting what Audrey has been telling me all along. “Take care, Dylan.”

His eyes narrow. “What’s this about?”

“This is about me,” I say and unscrew the lid off my juice with shaky hands.

“What do you mean?” His face is pale, the silver ring in his lip glinting dully in the fluorescent lights of the cafeteria.

I force myself to look away. “I mean,” I say softly, “this is goodbye.”

Chapter Two

Dylan

“Miles did what?” I nestle the cell more securely between my shoulder and cheek as I zip up my jacket, then step off the bus on campus. “Again?”

“Yeah. He’s bruised and bloody.” My neighbor Charlie and his wife Kate sometimes look over my little brothers when I have to go to work or college, like now.

“Bloody?” I stop. Ice spreads through me. “Is he okay?”

“Yeah, he’s fine. A little shaken up. He won’t talk about what happened, of course.”

Of course. Another thought strikes me. “Why is he with you? I thought my dad was at home?”