One-Eighty (Westover Prep 1)

“Sorry to hear about your granddad,” Dalton offers in a surprising show of sympathy. “How is your dad doing?”

“He was my mom’s dad,” Dillon corrects. “But she’s doing okay. Papa was sick and didn’t tell anyone. I think that hurts her more than anything.”

Dillon’s voice cracks, and it’s the first sign of pain he’s shown. I squeeze his thigh under the table in a show of support. His lip ticks up in the corner, letting me know that he understands the action. I hate that he’s hurting, but Dillon always deals with pain and grief in his own way. He only shuts me out when he’s sad. He doesn’t exactly distance me from his person, but it’s understood that if he doesn’t want to talk about something, there’s no way for me to change that. It’s just who he is.

“So, you’re friends with Piper?” Dalton asks as he settles on the other side of the booth.

“What are you doing?” I hiss before Dillon can answer him.

“I’m just getting to know Dillon a little better,” Dalton says with a sly grin.

“And I’m trying to spend time with my boyfriend.”

The grin disappears in a flash.Chapter 21DaltonBoyfriend? No fucking way.

My knuckles crack when I fist them against my thighs, and hopefully, the conversations going on around us are loud enough to block out the sound.

What I can’t seem to control is the clenching of my jaw with her declaration.

“Boyfriend?” I manage in a nearly civilized tone. “I didn’t know you had a boyfriend.”

“Have,” she counters. “As in have one presently, not past tense.”

“You haven’t mentioned him all week.” I challenge her with my eyes, but my glare doesn’t make her look nervous at all.

“We’ve been dating for years,” the asshole sitting across from me adds. “Since we were kids. We’re soul mates.”

“Nice.” I never take my eyes off hers, and at least she has the wherewithal to look a little ashamed. Heat creeps up on her cheeks as Dillon squeezes her close into his side.

But why is she ashamed? Is it because of the kiss we shared or the fact that she never even mentioned him before now? Is it possible that while spending time with me this last week, she actually forgot about her boyfriend? She sure as hell wasn’t thinking about him last night when she whimpered into my mouth the second my tongue brushed hers. He wasn’t on her mind when her fingers gripped the front of my shirt, pulling me closer.

I should bring up the kiss. The thought makes my eyes focus on her pouting lips, but I decide against bringing it up. I could blow their relationship apart with one single confession, but this man just lost his granddad, and as much as he’s trying to be strong, I can tell it hurts him. Plus, I’m no longer the asshole that ruins peoples’ lives, using any and all means necessary to kick them while they’re down.

Even with the ammunition I have, I’ll keep my lips sealed. I know she expects me to act like an asshole. That’s why the look on her face is almost comical when I keep my lips sealed.

I don’t need to worry about Dillon. All I need to focus on is my girl. I know I won’t win her with scathing words and a reminder that it was me she had her mouth on last night, not him. She probably already regrets the kiss. She doesn’t seem like the type to cheat, but she also doesn’t seem like the kind of person that would keep something like that a secret for long. The guilt would eat her alive, so I know she’ll tell him, eventually. I’ll leave her to it.

“Have we met before?” I figure bringing up the fact that I’ve lost all of my memories will knock him off his game. He’s already taken back his arm from around her, and she even scooted closer to the window an inch or so. There’s a level of victory in that as well. Does he suspect something is going on between the two of us?

There’s definitely an air of familiarity surrounding them, and that’s a given considering how long they’ve been friends. Their connection was obvious by the way she jumped into his arms in her driveway, but he didn’t press his lips to hers then, and I know it would be the first thing I’d do if I’d been away from her for any length of time. I wanted to do it now, even with her boyfriend at her side.

I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off her for any length of time. Hell, I wouldn’t be at the diner eating pie. I’d have her pressed against the wall with my tongue down her throat, needing the warmth of her body against mine, but maybe he isn’t controlled by his hormones.