Page 62 of A Little Tempting
“I’ll take you,” Everett interrupts.
Her blue-green eyes bounce from Everett to me and back again. “W-what?”
Reining in my annoyance, I try again. “Dylan, will you?—”
“I’m taking you to Homecoming,” Everett repeats. It’s a command. An order. Like she doesn’t have any say in the matter, and it pisses me off.
Mother. Fucker.
My hands clench at my sides, turning my knuckles white. But instead of beating the shit out of Ev, my attention shifts back to Dylan.
Arms folded, she opens her mouth to say something but closes it quickly. She looks uncomfortable. Like ants are crawling beneath her skin. Like she has her feet in the stirrups in a doctor’s office, and she’s waiting to be humiliated in front of everyone. I hate it. A lot.
“Uh…thank you for volunteering to be my pity date, but it’s totally fine. I’m not a big dance person anyway, so?—”
“You’re not a pity date,” I argue.
“It won’t be the same if you’re not there,” Everett adds. His tone is softer yet persistent. “Let me take you. Please?”
“Stop being a dick,” I snap. “I’m the one?—”
“I have an idea,” Finley announces. She sits up a little straighter in her seat as a sheen of triumph makes her gray eyes practically glow. “As the newly self-appointed Homecoming matchmaker for this event, it’s clear there are two prospects for our dearest Dylan. Well, three if we include the infamous Cinderfella, but since he’s yet to make an appearance...” Her expression sours with annoyance, but she smooths her features again. “Anyway, Dylan. I think we’re at a crossroads here, and I have two suggestions. One, you choose who you’d like to go with, which is the much more boring route, but hey. You do you. Or option number two, we turn this into a one-time-only, game-slash-competition, and you’re the prize.”
Dylan scoffs in her seat and leans back into the cushions. “I’m no prize.”
“You have no fucking clue,” I argue as I take a step toward her.
Her cheeks flood with heat, but she doesn’t look at me. She looks back at her lap, appearing even more uncomfortable as the silence stretches around us.
I want to tell her all the reasons she should let me take her. All the reasons I’d be the luckiest bastard alive to be her date for the evening. All the reasons she should pick me. But if I’ve learned anything about her relationship with Everett, it’s how he isn’t above pushing, which makes me want to do the opposite, so I keep my feet planted on the plush carpet and fight for restraint.
“Like I said,” she mumbles. “I don’t want a pity date.”
“It isn’t a pity date,” I start.
“Don’t you have someone toescort?” Everett asks me. Like I’m the problem. Like I’m the one being an ass. Like I’m the one to blame for making Dylan uncomfortable.
It pisses me off.
Molars cracking from the pressure, I turn to him with a glare. “Is there something you wanna say, Ev?”
Everett pushes to his feet, and Griffin moves between us, his hands raised in the air. “Look, I don’t know what the fuck your guys’ problem is, but if both of you want to take my little sister, and Dylan doesn’t have a preference,andit’ll turn your pissing contest into something productive, then I say we do Finley’s suggestion.”
“Really?” Finley claps her hands again like she’s her own personal cheerleader. “Yay! So, Dylan? You don’t have a preference? Officially?”
“I don’t…uh.” She squeezes her eyes shut. “I think this is super awkward. So.” She shrugs. “Whatever ends this conversation as quickly as possible would be great.”
“Perfect,” Finley gushes. “A competition, it is. All in favor, say, aye!”
The room stays quiet as Griffin turns to his little sister. “Dylan?”
Like a balloon, she deflates even more, but I don’t miss the way she refuses to look at me as her tongue darts out between her lips. “Aye, I guess.”
“Aye,” Finley chirps.
The rest of us join in, and I lift my forefinger in agreement, no matter how juvenile it makes me feel.
“Well, looks like it’s unanimous,” Finley announces. “So the question is…what kind of competition are we thinking?”