Undo Me (The Good Ol' Boys #3) (10 page)

“I’m not.”

“I’m sorry, honey, I got stuck in a meeting. I know I was supposed to call you hours ago. How are you? How’s everything?” my Aunt Celeste asked when I answered her call.

“No worries. I’m fine. How are you?” I asked, trying to divert her attention away from my lie.

“Girl, don’t even try to pull that one on me. I know you better than that. What’s wrong? What happened? Who do I need to come beat up? Is it your mom? Honey, you know—”

“It’s not my mom,” I interrupted.

Getting off the couch, I muted the TV and began to pace the living room. I knew this was going to be a long conversation.

“Oh… it’s about a boy,” she stated with understanding.

I shook my head even though she couldn’t see me. “How do you know that?”

“Oh, honey, psssh, in life it’s either our moms or it’s our men. Now, come on, tell your favorite aunt what’s going on?”

“I wish I knew,” I grumbled, walking in the kitchen to grab a soda out of the fridge.

“Start from the beginning.”

I took a deep breath. “He’s an asshole,” I laughed.

“Oh, honey, they all are. That’s part of the appeal. Better for you to find that out sooner rather than later, when it hurts more. Now, keep going.”

“No, I mean like a real
asshole
, Aunt Celeste. He uses girls, sleeps around with everyone, and make’s no excuses for it. He’s blunt, rude, crude, and cocky as shit.”

“You just described my last few boyfriends. Any relation?”

We laughed. I knew she was trying to make me smile. I hopped up onto the counter, took a sip from my soda, and continued to describe Dylan.

“But he’s also deep in a weird, mysterious way. There’s so much more to him than what he lets people see. He says everything I need to hear in a few words. He’s honest, caring, and he doesn’t sugarcoat shit. He says what he needs to say. He’s the most real person I have ever met.”

“Then what’s the problem, honey?” she questioned, not understanding the issue at hand.

“I don’t think he likes me.”

“What do you mean? What’s not to like?”

“We’ve been hanging out for a month and nothing has happened. He holds my hand, opens my door, and kisses my forehead. He talks to me all the time, whether it’s at school, over the phone, or texting. Aunt Celeste, I think I’m in the friend-zone now or something,” I confessed.

“First off, since this isn’t about me, I’m going to let go of the fact that you’ve been hanging out with this boy for the last month, and I’m just now hearing about it. We will come back to that later.”

I chuckled. She always knew the right things to say to me, to get me to laugh and make me feel better.

“Honey, he definitely likes you plain and simple, no doubt about it.”

“Then why hasn’t he tried anything? He sleeps with anything that has a pulse, but he hasn’t even kissed me. He hasn’t even tried to. He has to know by now that I want him to!” I exclaimed, getting worked up over the whole situation again, like I did when he left. “He’s sending mixed signals, and I called him out on it. All he had to say was and I quote, ‘I’m leaving because I do like you.’ What the hell does that even mean? He wouldn’t even let me ask before he turned and left.”

“Your house?”

“Yes.”

“Your mom’s working?”

“You know she is. She’s always working.”

“Oh, honey, he is a keeper.”

“What?” I asked, utterly confused and surprised with her response.

“Long story short… he can’t keep his junk in his pants. Never has, am I right? He respects you enough to not tempt himself to not keep his junk in his pants. Understand?”

“That makes no sense,” I simply stated.

“That’s because you’re seeing it like a hormonal teenager. Take a step back. You’re different, honey. He knows that.”

“Oh…”

“There’s your crash course into a man’s psyche. You’re welcome!” she laughed. “Look, honey, I have to go. We’re on deadline with this marketing campaign, and my boss is riding my ass. I’ll be in meetings all night, so I’ll call you tomorrow. I’ll come to visit as soon as this merger is over in the next few weeks.”

“Okay. I love you. Thanks for listening.”

“I’m always here. No matter what, you know that. I love you, too. Tell your mom I said hello. Talk soon.”

“Bye.”

I hung up, and not even a second later the doorbell rang. I didn’t even have time to contemplate or take in what my Aunt Celeste alleged. I looked down at the time on my phone and it read almost ten pm. I hopped off the counter and made my way to the door.

“Who is it?” I called out.

“Your Prince-fucking-Charming.”

I chuckled with a confused expression on my face. Opening the door, I said, “Did you forget—”

The air was immediately knocked out of me from the impact of Dylan’s lips on mine. He didn’t falter, he parted his lips, beckoning me to follow and I did. His hands were on the sides of my face, pushing me back until I felt the stairs. My body fell back on them with Dylan’s falling on top of mine.  

He wanted me.

He needed me.

He consumed me.

It was the scariest but most liberating feeling I had ever felt. Like I was standing at the edge of a cliff, looking down, ready to jump. Not caring if there would be land or water beneath me.

I was ready to take the plunge.

With him.

My mind was scrambled with thoughts and emotions I couldn’t control, label, or even understand. It was one giant cluster-fuck of weeks of wanting to feel his lips on mine. I put my arms around his neck as he pushed me further into the steps, kissing me deeper, harder, and with more determination. I had never been kissed like that before. The passion radiated off of him. I didn’t even know kisses like that existed outside of the movies.

Something told me he didn’t either.

My chest rose and fell faster and faster with every slip of his tongue in my mouth. With each deep breath I took, with each caress of his fingers along my face, with each groan that escaped his mouth, with each heartbeat I felt against mine, with each… with each… with each…

I felt
his
a little bit more.

I wasn’t imagining it. He matched every beat, every moment, every feeling and emotion times ten. I was putty in his hands. He could mold me, build me, and roll me however he wanted.

In that moment, I would let him.

He suddenly lifted me off the stairs and carried me through the archway to the living room, gently laying me on the couch. His body hovered over mine, our lips never leaving one another’s. They continued to move together as if they were meant for each other.

It was unreal, but so fucking real…

He kissed me one last time, letting his lips linger for just a few seconds on top of mine. I instantly felt the loss when he set his forehead on mine. I could barely hear our heavy panting over our escalated hearts and minds.

They took over.

His hair framed my face again like it did on the boat. I knew right then and there that it was going to be my favorite thing ever. Feeling as if we were in our own little world, surrounded by nothing but our feelings for each other.

Where nothing else mattered.

No one.

He pushed the hair away from my face, and I desperately wanted to return the favor, but I didn’t. I wanted to stay lost in his eyes in that moment, savor the way he was looking at me, the way he felt on top of me, the way he pulled every sentiment from my body as if it belonged to him.

I never wanted it to end.

With his hands framed around my face, he kissed me again, slower, more delicate this time, less frantic and desperate, but with the same intensity and passion. When he pulled away, I whimpered as he let out a loud, massive groan, feeling his absence. I felt like I was going to scream, my mind already shouting on the inside, over and over again. It echoed through the walls, making its way into our hearts where we would forever remember this moment.

He took one last look into my eyes and leaned in toward my ear.

“You’re going to undo me,” he huskily whispered, rubbing his lips below my earlobe, causing tingles everywhere.

“And I’m going to let you.”

A few months had passed and spring was finally here.

Dylan and I were officially dating, spending every second we could with each other. We seemed to learn something new about one another with each passing day. It was interesting to peel back the different layers that made Dylan McGraw.

What made him happy, what made him smile, what made him laugh.

My personal favorite…

What pissed him off, which was pretty much everything. The boy had the temper of a two year old, making it known what he liked, what he tolerated, and what would make him flip the fuck out.

Alex
was his Achilles heel, and I felt bad for whomever that girl fell in love with because those boys were going to tear him a new asshole. Never thinking it was
one
of their own.

The boys
were more like brothers than friends. I had never seen a bond like that before. A brotherhood. They were all extensions of one another, and I often felt like I was dating a bit of all of them with the way they acted when they were all together.

His parents
were his relationship role models, and I realized that on our first date when we danced under the stars on his parents’ sailboat. Moments after he shared how he watched them from afar, dancing to the same blues beat that surrounded us that night. 

Then there was
me
…

McGraw was like Jekyll and Hyde. Acting one way when it was just us and another when people were around. It didn’t matter who it was. That icy prick demeanor immediately lifted around him as if he was the gasoline that lit his own flame. But when we were alone, he was very charming. He loved to cuddle with me and have his hair played with or his back scratched. Pretty much anything that involved my hands on him, he loved. He was extremely bright, knew all sorts of random facts about anything and everything. He enjoyed watching the news, Discovery or History channel, saying it was good to know what was going on in the world, to be prepared. He hated the unexpected.

He had to be in control.

His dad taught him how to use a gun for the first time when he was five. He told him he would rather Dylan know what it was and the power it had, than to be a curious little boy and hurt himself. It wasn’t a toy. It was protection. Dylan could shoot within the bull’s eye at a hundred yards without batting an eye. When I told him that guns scared me, he simply stated,

“Best way to stop a bad guy with a gun, is with a good guy with a gun.”

The more I was around him, the more I wanted to be around him. He made me feel safe, and for the first time in a long time I wasn’t lonely anymore. I once read that some people are born lonely, like it’s this predisposition like your hair color, or your eye color, something we couldn’t control. Something we couldn’t understand.

It was just there.

I often felt I was one of those people, born to be alone in life. But when McGraw was around, the anxiety that I felt deep within my bones that strengthened over time, would disappear like it was never there to begin with.

“Where are we going?” I asked as we drove out of Oak Island.

“To the moon,” he said with a dead-serious face.

He loved to surprise me with all sorts of stuff. Bringing me flowers every few weeks when the others had died became part of his routine. When I called him out on it he simply said, “I like to see you smile.”

“South Port.”

“Why are we going to town?”

“Why is the sky blue, darlin’?”

He reached over and grabbed my hand, placing it in his lap. Every time we were in his Jeep my hand was sitting pretty on his thigh. He’d rub his fingers back and forth on the palm of my hand or sometimes he would tap to the beat of the music.

His hands were always on me in one way or another. At times it was subtle, his arm on the back of my chair, rubbing my shoulder with his thumb. Or when we were deep in discussion, he would play with the ends of my hair, listening to every word that came out of my mouth with an intense stare. Or he would draw pictures on my arm with his finger and make me guess what it was, making me miss his touch when we weren’t together.

The boys loved to play pool at Half-Pint’s parents’ restaurant. Alex and I would sit and watch, laughing at their ridiculous egos on who would kick whose ass. Dylan would stand by me waiting his turn, rubbing the back of my neck, right at the nook by the hairline. I would often catch the boys looking over with amused expressions on their faces.

Alex never seemed fazed by the attention he gave me. Her and I became great friends right away. I never felt like she was a year younger than me. If anything she acted much older than her fourteen years of age.

“Are you kidnapping me?” I coaxed, glancing at him.

“Can’t kidnap the willing.”

We drove for forty-five minutes when he got off at the exit for Ocean Island Beach.

“We’re going to another beach? You know there was one within walking distance of our houses right?” I joked.

“Can’t surf there.”

“I’ve seen you surf there almost every day since we met.”

He ignored me until he finished paying the parking attendant and pulled his Jeep in the parking space at the beach.

“I can surf anywhere,” he arrogantly asserted. “You on the other hand, cannot. The waves are less intense here.  I don’t want you gettin’ hurt, babe.”

“I’m surfing?” I asked, taken back. “I don’t even have a board. I left it back in Cali.”

“We can rent you one,” he simply stated.

“Dylan, I haven’t been surfing in a long time, I don’t think this is a good idea.”

“It’s like ridin’ a bike, darlin’, you never forget.”

“Have you seen yourself surf lately? You can ride.”

He cockily smiled. “I do love when you talk dirty to me.”

I rolled my eyes, smirking. “I meant I won’t be able to keep up.”

“I’ll go slow. I know how you girls like it slow.”

“Whatever.” I opened my door and he caught my wrist before I could leave.

“I know you used to do this with your dad, suga’. I’m not trying to step on anyone’s toes. Just thought we could have a fun day together doing something we both love.”

That.

That’s w````````````hy I was falling for the boy who sat in front of me.

He always knew what I was feeling, what I wasn’t feeling, what I wanted to feel. It’s like he had a sixth sense when it came to me. He was unbelievably perceptive. I used to think it was just with me, but the older we got, and the more I was with him, I realized he was like that with everyone. You couldn’t keep anything from him. When you thought you did…

It was only because he let you.

I sighed, “Fine.”

He leaned back into his seat still not letting go of my wrist.

“I got all day, darlin’.”

I took a long, deep, sarcastic breath with a fake smile. “I can’t wait. I’m so excited.”

He caught me off guard when he pulled me toward him, lifting me to straddle his lap. He kissed the tip of my nose and tugged on the ends of my hair.

“Talk to me.”

Just. Like. That.

I knew he wasn’t going to let me go until I did. His eyes were glazed over, like they were every time he wanted to know something about me. Dylan was one of the most impatient people I had ever met, except when it came to me opening up to him. He would wait till the end of time to get what he wanted to know out of me. He wouldn’t give up until I did. He was relentless when it came to something he wanted, especially
me
.

At times I felt our relationship was more than just wanting to be together, it was more than the classic boy meets girl story. What we had wasn’t a normal high school romance. It ran much deeper than that. It had been that way since the very beginning, and the longer we were together, the more I realized he didn’t just want to know me…

He wanted to
own
me.

“Talk to me,” he repeated in a gentle tone. Rubbing my arm in a comforting gesture. I peered down into my lap not wanting him to see my weakness. I knew he wanted me to look him in the eyes.

That was another thing about McGraw…

He wanted to see the truths that most people tried to ignore.

I struggled like hell to let go of my resolve that I had been holding onto since we moved here. To bring down the wall I’d built so high, so thick with everyone except him. I never understood why he was the exception. I used to spend hours thinking about the connection we shared, the intensity of it, the way he looked at me, the way he spoke to me, the way he listened, every smile, every laugh. Every word that fell from his lips meant something.

It didn’t matter how big or how small.

It was there.

Etching it’s way into my heart where no one could ever come close to it.

Not that I had ever let them.

I wrapped my arm around my stomach trying to hold it together and tell him something I had never told anyone. Not even my aunt. Of course she knew because my mom told her, but I spent days locked in my room, holding my hands over my ears to drain the voices from that day out of my mind. I didn’t want to relive it again.

The first time was enough.

So when I opened my mouth and said, “My dad had a teacher conference at my school one afternoon,” I shocked myself with what I was about to openly share with a boy that would undo me.  

“Except on this particular day, my mom was with him.” I bit my lip, trying to keep my voice steady. Already knowing it was no use, the inevitable was going to happen. I was going to break down in the arms of a boy I really liked. I released my arms, picking at the seams of my shirt for a few seconds before I could continue.

My mind was running a marathon, making it difficult to try and find the right words to express how much that day meant to me. “I remember being so happy. I was so happy I could have cried, Dylan,” I recalled, shaking my head, almost feeling that happiness again. “I wasn’t concerned about my grades, I’ve always been a good student, but I was thrilled my mom was there to hear my teacher talk about me. I was proud of my accomplishments and maybe she would be, too.”

My eyes blurred with tears threatening to surface. I pushed them back, having years of conditioning to do so. Dylan was so attentive, sweeping the hair away from my face and softly rubbing my cheek with his thumb.

Silently telling me it was okay to keep going.

“When my parents’ and I got in the car, I was just so grateful that they were both there. How fucking stupid is that?” I wept. I couldn’t hold it back any longer. The memory held me captive for so long. It overpowered me.

My emotions ran wild.

“Come here.”

He drew me closer, letting me melt into his chest. Rubbing my back, and whispering, “Shhh” in my ear. He allowed me to cry and let go of the dire anguish I’ve been carrying in me since that day.

“It’s not stupid, baby, it’s not stupid at all. It’s a strong part of you.”

I sat up, licking my lips not bothering to wipe away the stray tears. “I hugged my mom. I mean I full-on hugged my mom so tight for the first time in a long time. I wanted her to know what it meant to me that she was there with my dad. That she took an interest in my life, instead of just hearing about it from my dad, my aunt, or me.” I sniffled as Dylan caught another tear rolling down my cheek.

“I was hoping that if I showed her how much it meant to me, that maybe it could happen more often, you know, like she would realize how important it was to me for her to include herself in my life and stuff, like my schooling.” I shook my head, saddened. “I never said that to her though, maybe I should have. Maybe it could have changed something.”

I knew in my heart it wouldn’t have.

I paused, needing to take a deep breath. I closed my eyes, and I swear I could see the look on her face when I jumped into her arms. It was forever engraved into my mind, a memory I refuse to let go of. No one could take that vision away, even though it hurt me every time I thought about it.

“From school we all went to the ice cream parlor in town. The same one my dad would take me to when it was just us. I loved that he was trying to include her in our after school routine. Show her what we did together.” I let out a deep breath I didn’t realize I was holding, licking my dry lips and brushing my tears away from my face.