“That’s the beauty of being the CTO. Sloan handles most of the day-to-day shit.” Dylan punches the gas and flies through the yellow light as it turns red. “I handle the tech.”
“Makes sense. Sloan is a people person. And you’re… not.”
He chuckles. “Hey, I’m a people person.”
I shake my head. “No, you’re not. But if everyone on earth turned into a cyborg, I’m sure you’d be okay.”
“You’re a person,” he challenges. “And I’m talking to you right now.”
“Not successfully,” I joke.
He slides his hand to my knee and squeezes, causing my body to go perfectly still. I can’t breathe when he digs his long fingers into my skin.
“See, I’m a people person.” Dylan smirks. “I got you to shut up.”
My legs tremble, and I do my best to keep my traitorous body from revealing the instantaneous effect Dylan has on me. There goes my heart again, fighting to break free from my chest, beating so fast my lungs feel as though they are draining of air. Every inch of my body is on fire, brought to life by his simple touch.
Stupid, stupid body.
Glancing down at the placement of his hand, I bite my lip and look up at him. His hand slowly slides up my left thigh, and when his fingers move over my bare skin, I accidentally moan. Oh, no. He heard me, and now he’s giving me one his boyish grins that does dangerous things to me.
“Dylan,” I whisper, covering his hand with mine when he reaches the top of my leg, his fingers tapping my inner thigh. “What are you doing?”
We stop at a red light. The silence between us is almost painful. He continues to tap his fingers on my thigh, gripping the steering wheel with his left hand. My undersexed body wants him to continue his slow exploration, but my brain is screaming for him to stop.
“I’m distracting you,” he says after a long pause. “And proving a point.”
I tip my head to where our hands are linked on my thigh. “What point does this prove?”
“I wanted an excuse to touch you,” he says, his voice deep but level and so damn sexy.
He moves his hand to the shifter when the light turns green, now turning right toward Nico’s house.
I squeeze my legs together, which helps with the shaking. “Why would you want to touch me?”
“C’mon, Ash. You’re a smart woman.”
“Is that all I am to you? Sex. A hookup. You want to fuck me one last time to get me out of your system?”
He shakes his head. “No, you were never just sex for me. You’re unfinished business.”
I stare at him in awe.
I’m unfinished business.
Is he that much of an egomaniac that he can’t stand that I broke up with him? Does he want to screw me one more time to gain the upper hand and walk away feeling like he’s the victor in this situation? No matter what, neither of us will ever win. We lost what we had a long time ago, and as far as I’m concerned, we can never get it back.
Our conversation ends with Dylan parking in front of Nico’s long wrought iron gate, talking into the speaker when Nico’s voice booms through it. I lean over Dylan to speak to Nico, who buzzes us in, and the gates open inward for us, revealing his impressive mansion.
“You can wait in the car if you want.”
Dylan narrows his eyes at me. He blows out a deep breath, and a strand of his dark hair falls in front of his eyes. “Yeah, not happening, princess. Not after the way Nico treated you last week.”
“You don’t have to step in for Sloan when he’s not around. I can handle myself, thank you very much.”
He leans his elbow on the armrest between us, holding my gaze. “So, you’d be okay with Nico Chase pinning you to his couch and fucking you because he’s a movie star? Because he thinks he can? That’s what he wanted to do to you the last time we were here. And if I weren’t with you, he would have tried.”
“Dude, what’s your deal? Nico Chase is not interested in me. I remind him of his sister. And, it’s not like he fucks fat girls.”
“I don’t either,” Dylan snaps. “You’re not fucking fat, Ash. Stop saying that.”
“Compared to the actresses Nico dates and the models you screw, I’m fat.” I pinch my love handles and make a good show of it, sliding my shirt up my stomach. “This is Los Angeles, Dylan. The standards of beauty are different here.”
Not bad for a chunky girl, one casting director said. She’s too big-boned for the part, said another. No matter how hard I try to shake all of the nasty comments, I still can’t get them out of my head. For my sanity, I shoved the worst remarks into the dungeon of my mind, never to revisit them.