her in the room , the safest spot , and watch her come back to life.
“Do you have anything stronger?” s he asks .
I raise an eyebrow . “You want stronger water ? A re you used to something lead-based?”
She takes another drink and shakes her head . Yep, too early for sarcasm . “I’m used to coffee as thick as motor oil .”
I open my mouth to inform her that this isn’t a fricking hotel, but when she pulls her covers off to reveal her bare legs and pink panties, I lose track of thought . She throws me a questioning glance and I divert my eyes and try to look ind ifferent, like her body has no e ffect on me . I point out her jeans are on her duffle bag .
She blushes and t he color reaches all the way to her lips and my eyes are drawn to them for a second . She lifts her nose and sniffs the air .
“ Where are Heidi and Klaus ? ” she asks.
I stare a t her . “Who?”
“My tennis shoes,” she says simply, like I should know.
I roll my eyes . S he’s obviously as random as ever and for some reason this knowledge irritates me . Maybe I was hoping Dylan would change . Grow up . Mellow out . Her unpredictable mind is what I love most about her and i f she could suddenly turn boring , it would really help me get over her .
I tell her they’ re airing out on the balcony and I suggest that she pack a shoe deodorizer the next time she travels. Then, as if I care, s he tells me she bought her shoes in Munich and that they’ve been her best friends these past few months.
“They didn’t give me a single blister,” s he says triumphantly and wriggles her long, pink toes in my direction to prove it . I stare at her naked feet dancing in the air in front of me and something pulls on my heart but I pull back .
She swings her legs over the side of the bed and smiles into my eyes like we’re best friends . S he star ts to explain the history of her shoes, how they’re named after this wonderful German couple she met who gave her directions when she was lost —
I stand up and interrupt her because this is getting ridiculous .
“ Dylan, I don’t care about your shoes . That’s not the most pressing issue right now.” She blinks back at me and waits .
“What are you doing here?” I say, louder than necessary . Her grin is gone . The sparkle in her eyes fade s . She looks disappointed to see anger , not happiness in my eyes . What did she honestly expect ? She looks down at her hands and thinks about my question . A few seconds go by .
“ I wanted to see you ,” she says simply . But it isn’t simple, I want to tell her . I fold my arms over my chest and hit her with a hard stare.
“It’s been over four months ,” I point out .
“All the more reason to pay you a visit,” she says, like I should be happy, like I should be skipping and cart - wheeling and welcoming her with open arms and daisies and a tandem bike ride into the sunset because she finally got around to fitting me back in to the travel plan she calls life.
“ You’re not thinking of staying here, are you ?” I ask . It’s more of a threat than a question . I thought I was over her . But it’s easy to convince yourself you’re over someone when they’re five thousand miles away . You eventuall y forget the way they smell, the way their skin tastes and the sound of their voice . Until they show up one day , and , just by looking in their eyes you spiral right back to the place where you started .
She stands up, no longer s hy that she’s only in a T -shirt and underwear . She takes a few steps towards me and I have to mentally pretend she’s my cousin to keep my eyes from falling to her naked legs . She registers the angry look on my face .
“ I’ll do whatever I want ,” she says . “Unless I’ve missed some breaking news story , this is still a free country.” She pushes pas t m e and grabs her jeans . I glare down at her , annoyed that she’s annoyed . She has no right.
“You can’t just show up and expect to stay with
“Do you have anything stronger?” s he asks .
I raise an eyebrow . “You want stronger water ? A re you used to something lead-based?”
She takes another drink and shakes her head . Yep, too early for sarcasm . “I’m used to coffee as thick as motor oil .”
I open my mouth to inform her that this isn’t a fricking hotel, but when she pulls her covers off to reveal her bare legs and pink panties, I lose track of thought . She throws me a questioning glance and I divert my eyes and try to look ind ifferent, like her body has no e ffect on me . I point out her jeans are on her duffle bag .
She blushes and t he color reaches all the way to her lips and my eyes are drawn to them for a second . She lifts her nose and sniffs the air .
“ Where are Heidi and Klaus ? ” she asks.
I stare a t her . “Who?”
“My tennis shoes,” she says simply, like I should know.
I roll my eyes . S he’s obviously as random as ever and for some reason this knowledge irritates me . Maybe I was hoping Dylan would change . Grow up . Mellow out . Her unpredictable mind is what I love most about her and i f she could suddenly turn boring , it would really help me get over her .
I tell her they’ re airing out on the balcony and I suggest that she pack a shoe deodorizer the next time she travels. Then, as if I care, s he tells me she bought her shoes in Munich and that they’ve been her best friends these past few months.
“They didn’t give me a single blister,” s he says triumphantly and wriggles her long, pink toes in my direction to prove it . I stare at her naked feet dancing in the air in front of me and something pulls on my heart but I pull back .
She swings her legs over the side of the bed and smiles into my eyes like we’re best friends . S he star ts to explain the history of her shoes, how they’re named after this wonderful German couple she met who gave her directions when she was lost —
I stand up and interrupt her because this is getting ridiculous .
“ Dylan, I don’t care about your shoes . That’s not the most pressing issue right now.” She blinks back at me and waits .
“What are you doing here?” I say, louder than necessary . Her grin is gone . The sparkle in her eyes fade s . She looks disappointed to see anger , not happiness in my eyes . What did she honestly expect ? She looks down at her hands and thinks about my question . A few seconds go by .
“ I wanted to see you ,” she says simply . But it isn’t simple, I want to tell her . I fold my arms over my chest and hit her with a hard stare.
“It’s been over four months ,” I point out .
“All the more reason to pay you a visit,” she says, like I should be happy, like I should be skipping and cart - wheeling and welcoming her with open arms and daisies and a tandem bike ride into the sunset because she finally got around to fitting me back in to the travel plan she calls life.
“ You’re not thinking of staying here, are you ?” I ask . It’s more of a threat than a question . I thought I was over her . But it’s easy to convince yourself you’re over someone when they’re five thousand miles away . You eventuall y forget the way they smell, the way their skin tastes and the sound of their voice . Until they show up one day , and , just by looking in their eyes you spiral right back to the place where you started .
She stands up, no longer s hy that she’s only in a T -shirt and underwear . She takes a few steps towards me and I have to mentally pretend she’s my cousin to keep my eyes from falling to her naked legs . She registers the angry look on my face .
“ I’ll do whatever I want ,” she says . “Unless I’ve missed some breaking news story , this is still a free country.” She pushes pas t m e and grabs her jeans . I glare down at her , annoyed that she’s annoyed . She has no right.
“You can’t just show up and expect to stay with
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