Page 95 of Dirty Like Dylan

“Doesn’t matter,” I said, taking a pull off the joint, then handing it back to her. “Ancient history.”

“Forgotten history,” Dylan said, grinning.

I ignored him.

It was definitely weird, though, seeing a woman lounging in his arms. The guy gave out hugs left and right, and I’d seen him cuddle with a chick before, but not often. I’d definitely never seen him this at ease with a woman in bed, after sex.

Usually, Dylan was the first one to get up and hit the shower and get on with his day. I was more down to loiter in bed, for obvious reasons. And the girls, sometimes they stayed for the same reasons: to gawk at Dylan Cope and make themselves available in case he felt like another round. Though sometimes, they bounced as quickly as he did.

But this morning, he wasn’t going anywhere, and neither was she. I could see it in their body language.

Dylan looked more than comfortable sprawled out in my bed, with Amber in his arms smoking my joint. Busting my balls with her, and drinking the coffee I’d bought him.

And I liked it.

I just wasn’t sure why I liked it so much.

I’d been in love with a woman before. With Summer, for sure. If I was being honest, I was well on my way there with Elle. But I’d never felt that strongly about any of the women Dylan and I brought into bed with us. In part, because a lot of them, for me, were little more than an excuse to get in bed with Dylan. That was the truth; one I’d never admit to anyone, even Dylan.

And in part, because those women just didn’t mean that much to me. The chemistry just wasn’t there. Not to sustain more than a night or two, or at most, a few weeks or months of fun times.

It had definitely never felt like this with a woman in bed between us.

So much more than skin-deep.

* * *

I hit up the shower mainly so I could be alone to think. Get my head around things. Dylan and Amber were still cuddling and goofing around in my bed. It was as if having sex had shot them both up with fairy dust and, overnight, they were both totally gone over each other.

I could very fucking easily have fallen back into bed and seen if they were up for another round.

But that was probably inadvisable, until I got my shit together.

Until I figured out how I was gonna handle this. So far, I wasn’t handling it so fucking well.

Amber had accused me of being nicer to her, and she wasn’t wrong.

Something had changed between us the night of Zane’s party.

Maybe it was seeing her and Dylan out of the house together, and all dressed up, looking like the perfect couple.

Maybe it was feeling like a third wheel.

Maybe it was seeing her hanging out with Katie and Maggie and looking like she fit right into Dylan’s world.

Maybe it was when she got drunk and let her guard down, forgot about the stick up her butt and started being nice to me. When she leaned up against me in Zane’s kitchen in the middle of the night, and all I wanted to do was put my arm around her, take care of her, because she was Dylan’s. I knew she was Dylan’s.

I’d known it from moment one, that she was made for him.

And maybe I wanted a piece of that.

But then she’d touched me. She put her hand on my stomach and slid her fingers gently down toward my crotch, and my dick fucking leapt to attention. And the way she looked up at me, her green eyes all needy and soft, with heat building behind them…

In that moment, I knew she wanted me.

And I fucking wanted her.

I wanted to bend her over Zane’s kitchen counter and give it to her. But I wasn’t gonna do that. She was pretty wasted, for one, and she was there with Dylan, too. It wasn’t the right time.