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And just like that we switch roles. Protector becomes protected. Wounded becomes healer. He folds me into his arms. He kisses me. He makes love to me slowly. Sweetly. When I orgasm I cry his name.
***
14
Dallas
DALLAS
We step off the plane at Dallas Fort Worth Airport and follow the signs to Baggage Claim.
“You’ve been to Texas before?” Dylan asks.
“Never had the pleasure,” I say.
“A virgin,” he says.
“Hardly after what we did this morning.”
He smiles and draws his hand down my neck, down my back, heat blossoms on my face. “Welcome to the Lone Star State.”
“Sadly, the Lone Star State’s seen far better than me. I feel like something the dog rolled in.” I pause in front of the Ladies Room. “Give me a moment.”
“Take two.” He leans back against the wall, and checks his phone.
I use the facilities, stand in front of the mirror, run a hand through my hair that feels heavy and stifling hot on the back of my neck even though the air conditioning is blasting.
I’ve been gone a week. I’m lying to my friends and my employer. I’m not making any money. We agreed to one last game and then he puts me on a plane back to Chicago. I’ll be home tomorrow night. I don’t know if I should be celebrating or if I should buy a beer and cry into it.
I’m acutely aware I signed up for this gig of my own accord. I’ve got some savings stashed away in an account that will cover a few month of bills. But the biggest bill, the one that needs to be paid the first, is Mom’s invoice from the Institute. Tick-tock. The clock counts down and I’m dangling from the pendulum swinging back and forth between my desire to spend time with Dylan and my need to make enough to keep Mom and Ruby and me above water.
I drag a brush through my hair, twist my locks into a loose bun, and secure it with a pretty clip. I snag a lip gloss from my purse, apply a fresh coat, and check my reflection in the bathroom mirror. Not horrible. I wet a paper towel with cool water and press it against my face, my neck, my chest. I thought Chicago was hot in the summer. Texas heat kicks sand in Chicago heat’s face.
Thank God this is just another game and I don’t have to impress anyone. I’m here for Dylan. The game’s tonight and part of tomorrow. No matter what happens I go home tomorrow night with a clear conscience and a heavy heart. Mom needs healing, Ruby needs babysitting, and my needs do not come first.
I swipe my phone off airplane mode and ping-ping-ping am inundated with texts.
Amelia: Where are you?
I text back with the truth for a change.
Evie: Dallas.
Amelia: WTF are you doing in Dallas?
Evie: Explain later.
Amelia: I’m worried about you.
Evie: Don’t. I’ve got this.
Evie: I mean -- I think I’ve got this.
Amelia: You need to tell me what’s going on.
Evie: Sure.
Evie: I’ll explain everything when I get home. I’m on a tear.
