Undo Me (The Good Ol' Boys #3) (7 page)

“Damn straight.”

I nodded, narrowing my eyes at her. “Let me refresh your memory then.”

“By all means,” she threw back at me.

I scowled. “You sure you have time?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

I pushed off the wall, walking toward her. “Oh, you know, your date is out there. I wouldn’t want to keep him waiting.” I tugged on the ends of her hair. “Boy’s probably lost without your tits sitting in front of him.” Releasing her hair I continued my assault, grazing her collarbone. “God knows he hasn’t been staring at anything else.”

She shoved my hand away. “You, asshole!”

“Never claimed to be anything but.”

“I’m going to go now.”

“Ain’t no one stopping you, darlin’.”

Her eyes widened in shock, making those beautiful emeralds of hers shine bright as they tore into mine. I tugged on the ends of her hair again.

“But if you really wanted to go, you would have already left.”

Her chest heaved; I was clearly getting to her.

“What you want and what you’re going to get are two different things, suga’.” I reached for the side of her face, my knuckles caressed her cheek, tucking a misplaced hair behind her ear. Her lips parted.

“I’ve been a good ol’ boy playing by your rules.” I slowly moved my fingers to her mouth. “Watching you these past few weeks is doing me no favors, baby I know you enjoy seeing me getting tortured and sporting blue balls for days. I see the looks you throw my way and the way your pretty little mouth smirks every time you see me shut down another girl.” With my thumb I rubbed her bottom lip for a few seconds, she stirred and I immediately took my hand away, slipping it in the pocket of my cargo shorts. Making her miss my touch.

She cleared her throat, shaking her head. “I know,” she said out of nowhere.

My eyebrows rose.

“There haven’t been any girls crying in the bathroom in weeks.”

I chuckled.

“So, I’ll bite. Congratulations, McGraw, you do have self-control.”

“And…”

“There’s more?” she challenged, cocking her head to the side.

“Don’t dig, sweetheart, you might not like what you find.”

She dramatically sighed. “Go one more week, and I'll give you the benefit of the doubt. I’m still not impressed.” She stepped aside. Looking back she informed me, “By the way that’s just an old family friend, he’s staying with us for a couple of days and he’s like my brother. But thanks for your friendly concern.”

She left, leaving me with nothing but fucking blue balls for another week.

My phone pinged with a new message. Swiping the screen, I didn't recognize the number.

Tomorrow. I’ll pick you up at eight.

Aubrey:
Who is this?

Your Prince Charming.

I laughed, I couldn’t help it. This could only be the one asshole I knew.

Aubrey:
I’m not having sex with you, McGraw.

Dylan:
Good, no one else has either.

My entire body shook with laughter as I typed.

Aubrey:
You’re funny tonight.

Dylan:
I’m also charming.

I rolled my eyes.

Aubrey:
I didn’t say yes to a date.

Dylan:
I didn’t ask. I’ll pick you up at eight.

I started to type no.

Dylan:
Please.

Of course he knew what I was thinking.

Aubrey:
Wow. Dylan McGraw said please. I’m glad I have proof.

Dylan:
Wear something yellow. You look pretty in yellow.

I grinned at his subtle change in subject.

Dylan:
I’ll see you tomorrow.

I took a deep breath.

Aubrey:
Don’t make me regret this, Dylan.

Dylan:
Duly noted, suga’.

Aubrey:
Night.

I threw my phone on the nightstand and fell back onto my bed, peering up at the ceiling.

What the hell did I just get myself into?

I tossed and turned all night, not getting much sleep. My mind raced with all the
what-ifs
. I woke up early letting my mind win the battle. Needing to clear my head, I decided to go for a run. I use to run all the time in California. It was one of my favorite things to do. I hadn't run once since we moved to Oak Island. My running shoes were still packed at the bottom of a box, along with a few wedding photos of my parents.

They looked so happy and in love.

I woke up one night after my dad had moved out to the sound of crying. I found my mom on the kitchen floor sobbing. She was hugging a book of some sort tight against her chest; the green spine of the book was the perfect background to her white knuckles. I didn’t interrupt her private break down; all I did was watch with tears that threatened to spill like hers. Every one of them was because of the pain my father inflicted on her, on us. His decisions not only shattered their marriage.

They destroyed our home.

Our family.

She finally lifted herself off the floor to go into her bedroom, throwing the book in the trash as she walked by. I waited till she was gone before I went to look at what she threw away. It was their wedding album. I looked at every last picture, for some reason touching their faces in each one. When I heard a noise coming from the direction of her room, I impulsively ripped out a few photos and scurried back to my bedroom before she caught me.

I ran faster.

Harder.

And with more determination.

My feet burned through the pavement with each stride and each memory, sweat dripping from every inch of my body. My heart pounded against my chest, echoing through my body and making me feel alive. My head started getting fuzzy with little specs of dots clouding my vision. My vigorous breathing escalated higher and louder. My ears started to ring. I needed to slow down before I passed out, but I couldn’t. The adrenaline coursing through my bloodstream had already taken over.  

Finally my legs gave out on me, causing me to fall over onto some grass, hyperventilating deeply and profusely. I closed my eyes, riding the wave of euphoria that only running could ever bring me.

Why did I stop doing this?

I breathed in and out, my breaths per minute leveling out with each second that passed. I got up on my hands and knees to stretch my neck and back.

“Couldn't wait to see me, huh?”

Oh no…

“You didn't have to run all the way here, darlin’. Our date’s at 8pm not 8am.”

I reluctantly opened my eyes. Dylan was sitting on the steps of his patio, hunched over with his elbows resting on his knees.

“Don’t flatter yourself, McGraw.”

He grinned, devouring me with his eyes. “You cold, suga’?”

I lowered my eyebrows. “What?”

He nodded toward my chest, and I peered down.

Shit.

My yellow sports bra was soaked with sweat, making my nipples stand at attention.

“I do love that color on you, baby.”

“Shut up. You know if you were a real gentleman you wouldn’t have pointed that out. Let’s add
pig
to the list of insults, Dylan.”

“I can’t help it, sweetheart, they’re pointing right at me.”

I instantly crossed my arms over my exposed chest, blushing.

“Now that red is my second favorite color on you,” he rasped, standing up.

I stood up too, looking everywhere but at him, trying to avoid his stare. A bottle of water appeared in front of my face. I mistakenly gazed up, locking eyes with him. I reached out to take the water he was offering. Our fingers lightly brushed longer than I wanted to, but he wouldn’t let go of the water.

I scowled, pulling it harder in my direction. His face didn’t waver along with his grip.

“Thank you,” I appeased, and he immediately let go.

Asshole.

He grinned, tugging on the ends of my hair.

“What’s with you and the hair pulling?”

He stepped back, engulfing me with his stare again. He turned to walk back up the stairs, completely ignoring me.

“You didn’t answer my question!” I shouted

“I’ll see you tonight,” was all he said.

I walked the entire way home.

Not needing to run away from anything that time.

I knocked on Aubrey’s door at five minutes till eight. Alex said I needed to arrive early to show that I was serious about this date.

“You must be Dylan,” an older lady greeted me, opening the door. I assumed it was Aubrey’s mom since she looked like an older version of her. They say daughters turned into their mothers and if that’s the case, I fucking approved.

I smiled. “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Ow— Ma’am.”

Shit.

Her parents were divorced, and I had no idea what her mom’s maiden name was. She must have noticed my not-so-subtle pause because she instinctively narrowed her eyes at me, tilting her head to the side.

“Aubrey told you—” it was her turn to hesitate. She casually smiled, recovering quickly and shaking her head. “You can call me Jane.”

What was that?

She stepped aside for me to come into the foyer.

“These are for you.” I handed her flowers.

“For me?” She smiled for real that time. I instantly felt at ease.

“Of course, mama’s deserve flowers, too. These are for Aubrey.” I winked.

“Why thank you so much, Dylan. This is very sweet of you.”

“Not a problem, ma’am.”

“Ma’am? I told you to call me Jane.”

“With all due respect, ma’am, I appreciate that, but that’s not how I was raised. I’m justa good ol’ country boy. Here in Oak Island, we respect our elders.”

I could tell she was impressed with me. Honestly, I wasn’t blowing smoke up her ass. I may be an asshole, but I still had manners. My mama did raise me right. She would have my balls if she ever saw me disrespecting an adult.  

“Aubrey is almost ready, she should be down any minute. We can wait for her in the living room.”

I nodded and followed her lead. I could hear some music playing, but couldn’t make out what it was. It had to be coming from Aubrey’s room.

Works of art scattered on the pale yellow walls here and there. A flat screen TV was sitting in the middle of the room on top of a modern entertainment center. The couch in front of it looked like one of those sofas that you could sink into and not want to leave. The room was bright and open with a bay window that looked out to their front yard.

Their house had a cozy and inviting feel, similar to mine.

“Would you like something to drink?” she kindly asked.

“No thanks, ma’am, I’m good.”

I walked toward their fireplace by their dining room, there were pictures of Aubrey displayed on the mantle and I wanted a peek into her childhood. I found it odd that there weren’t any pictures of her and her mom, but there were a ton of her and another lady who looked like she could be related to her mom. I assumed it was the aunt she mentioned the other day. There was only one picture of her and her dad. They were on the beach building a sand castle, looking as happy as could be. I saw the love and devotion in her father’s eyes from that picture alone.

If I thought she resembled her mom that was quickly shot to shit seeing what her dad looked like. She was the spitting image of him, which reminded me of what she shared that night on the beach when she told me she thought her mom worked so much because it hurt to look at her.   

Baby girl might be right about that one.

“She was a very beautiful little girl,” she spoke in past tense, pulling me from the memories of that night.

“She still is,” I honestly spoke, turning to face her.

She affectionately nodded, glancing at the picture of them that was prominently placed behind me, with a sense of longing in her eyes. It was quick but I saw it.

“Why don’t you make yourself at home, have a seat.”

I walked over to the loveseat positioned in front of the window and sat down.

“How are you liking Oak Island? Seems like you’ve settled in well,” I stated, looking around the furnished room.

“I wish I could take the credit, but I’m afraid Aubrey is responsible for all this.” She gestured with her hand towards the open space.

I nodded in understanding. Aubrey was the one that put the picture of her dad on the mantle, along with all the pictures of a woman that
wasn’t
her mother.

“I’m happy to finally meet one of Aubrey’s friends,” she breathed out. “She said you guys share a homeroom. You’re a sophomore, right?”

“That’s right.”

“She didn’t tell me how you guys met, though. I’m assuming at school?”

I nodded in response.

“Aubrey says track season doesn’t start until spring. Do you run track as well?”

“No. I surf.”

As soon as the words left my mouth I regretted them. Her face frowned. Something I said resonated deeply inside her. It pained me to see such hurt in her eyes. I couldn’t help but want to make her feel better. I felt connected to her in a way I couldn’t explain or even understand for that matter. Maybe it was because she was Aubrey’s mom.

“I can’t wait to watch Aubrey run track in the spring. I got a glimpse of her this morning. She’s fast. I’m sure she will win all sorts of awards. Our track team actually went to nationals last year,” I rambled, changing the subject.

She nodded, knowing what I was doing but appreciating it nonetheless. “Aubrey must love that you surf. She used to go with her dad back home. She’s actually pretty good at it. Her dad had her on a board by the time she was five. He had her in the water before she could even crawl, she loves the beach.”