didn’t want to be warmed by that in some way. But anger was a blanket that could not cover all of me and my exposed parts soaked it up. I was helpless against that kind of care, I had no…defenses against someone’s worry. For me.
He was silent, there in the shadows. Like he had no intention of explaining himself.
“I don’t need you to do that.”
“Not your choice,” he said, with a shrug. As if my desires were irrelevant in the equation.
“Well, it’s hardly yours. I am not your business, Dylan.”
“It’s a little late for that, don’t you think?”
A few phone calls, some drunk texts, and two ill-advised pictures—that’s all we had between us. A handful of paltry, inconsequential things. How in the world did they add up to something so damn heavy?
“You didn’t want to see me, remember?” I whispered, revealing some of my hurt. “You ended it.”
His silence was agreement. Yes, he was saying. Yes, I ended it. Yes, I didn’t want to see you.
“I didn’t ask to be brought here,” I said, sounding shrill. His silence was making me crazy. Shut up, I told myself. Shut up and forget about him.
“You can go home tomorrow.”
We were at an impasse. Forty feet between us, and every inch was lined with barbed wire and land mines. And it would be easy to turn around and leave. Wait out the hours until that driver came back to take me home.
But I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t just walk away and not…ever have seen him.
“Come out of the shadows,” I said.
He rolled toward the bench, his back to me. “Go on to bed, Layla. It’s been a long—”
“Stop!” I cried. The anger and fear and hurt exploded out of me. “Just stop. I’ve been bossed around, thrown into cars, driven to some kind of mountaintop fortress to…you. You, Dylan. You ended it and I still wound up here. To you!” I kept spitting out that word, like it somehow meant something. Like on the stupid weird map of my life he had been some kind of spectacular surprise destination. “I’m exhausted, I’m scared. I’m angry. I’m…” I cut myself off. I was not going to admit that I was turned on. Though, undoubtedly he had to know. He always seemed to know. He knew over a phone and now I was standing here, panting, my body shaking…God. Damn it. He had all the cards and I was standing here barefoot in my pajamas. If there was ever a moment I longed for a bra, this was it. My nipples hurt, they were so hard. I knew he could see them.
“Inevitable,” he said.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“I’m not in the mood for games!” I yelled.
I couldn’t see him, but I could tell he was smiling at me. I knew what his voice sounded like when he was smiling. “Games are what you like. Dirty little games. That’s all we’ve got, Layla.”
I fought back the surge of memories of all of our “games,” because I was not going to be distracted. And he was trying to marginalize it, and what we did—what happened between us—couldn’t fit within any margins I’d ever known.
“I know about the accident. The fire. I went to the library and looked you up.”
“It’s not about the fire.” He lifted his hand to the back of his neck like he was rubbing sore muscles there. And I got the sense that he was lying. “The fire is nothing. There are a lot of things I haven’t told you. Things you’d just be better off not knowing.”
“Well, Jesus Christ, Dylan,” I yelled. “Let’s start with something! Let’s start with you telling me one true thing.”
He looked down at his hands, shadows playing over his beautiful body. “You are…beautiful. You look exactly like I thought you would.”
I gasped, the words so unexpected they slid right through my ribs. Right into the meat and blood and bone of me.
“I never imagined you,” I said.
“Probably smart,” he laughed.
“You just…were you. Just Dylan.” Just everything.
He lifted his head, watching me, and I stood there with nothing. In the face of all that he had, the slimness of my existence, its utter weightlessness, was shocking. But I was out to even the scales. Just a little. Just enough that I could look at myself in the mirror tomorrow. Just enough so I’d know that I’d fought for something. My own worth in this game we’d played. I wasn’t a pawn. I was a person.