More Than Enough
Page 40

There’s definitely a difference between a boy’s body and a man’s. Or maybe it’s just Dylan. Yeah. I’m going to say it’s just Dylan.
His buddy in Afghanistan has called twice using my Skype. I leave the room when they talk. It just seems too private and, to be honest, I’m not sure I’m ready to hear what he has to go back to when he finally does go back.
We don’t talk about it—what will happen with us when he leaves. Because like he said, he’s here. Now. And that’s more than enough.
“You’re turning into a grease monkey,” he says, eyeing me from under the hood of the Honda.
I look down at my clothes and the grease stains smeared on my white shirt. “I am!”
“It’s hot, Ry.” He stands to his full height, stalking toward me with a wrench in his hand. He has that look in eyes. You know, that look. The one that tells me he’s pretty much done with the car for the day and the rest will be spent with me in his arms while he makes me laugh. I love that time of day. Almost as much as I love him.
He pulls his phone out of his pocket and takes a picture. (Side note: it took me fifteen minutes to show him how to use it.) Then he drops his wrench on the bench next to where I’m sitting and settles his hands on my legs. “Feel like helping out?”
“Not right now. I just like watching you.”
“Quit treating me like a piece of meat, Hudson. Jeez. I have feelings you know.”
Giggling, I lift his tank up and peek at his abs.
He slaps my hand away. “My eyes are up here,” he jokes, then pulls the collar of my shirt down and peers down. “Is there some sort of Dylan-gets-to-be-in-my-pants schedule you’re working with that I should know about?” He nuzzles his face into my neck, kissing it gently. “Throw a kid a bone here.”
My fingers part through his hair—hair that’s gotten longer since he came home. “You have to earn your bases, Rookie.”
He mocks an exaggerated sob.
I roll my eyes. “There’s no crying in baseball!”
“That reminds me,” he says, reaching behind me. He drops a book on my lap. “I got you this.”
I smile. “Part two of the pause?”
“Yep. Luce called this morning and said it came out today so I went to the store and got it. Now you can see how it ends.”
“You’re the bestest boyfriend ever,” I announce.
He laughs at that, just as his phone sounds with a text.
I reach for it before he can get to it and when I read the text, I wish I hadn’t.
Heidi: Hey… So, I’m in town for the weekend. I heard you were back. I’m free now. Just seeing if you wanted to catch up. For old time’s sake.
“For old time’s sake? What does that even mean?” I ask.
He moves away from my neck, his eyes already narrowed. Then he takes the phone from my hand and reads the text. He looks up.
“Have you been talking to her?” I ask.
“No. This is the first time she’s contacted me.” He’s still holding the phone. He wants to reply.
“I’m not going to stop you from talking to her. Or seeing her. Or doing whatever it is…” my voice drops to a whisper. “…for old time’s sake.”
He shakes his head. “It’s not like that, Riley.”
“But you want to see her.”
He shrugs, his response giving me nothing. “If it’s going to cause issues then I’ll just tell her no.”
“It’s fine,” I say, my tone clipped.
“Obviously not.”
“I just don’t get why you’d want to see her. Do you miss her?”
“No!” His head drops forward. “Jesus, Riley. You’re making this impossible. I could’ve lied. I could’ve ignored her message now and then seen her behind your back but I don’t want to keep anything from you.”
“Well, you are!”
“What?!”
“You are keeping something from me!”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Why do you want to see her?”
“Closure,” he yells. Then softer, “I just want closure. We left things at such a shitty point and after you and I talked about it, our relationship made more sense to me than it did when I was actually part of it. So I just… I don’t know why.”
I push aside my petty jealousy, just for a moment, and I think about him—how broken he was because of her—and I see things from his perspective. I jump off the bench and wrap my arms around his waist. “I’m being selfish.”
“Honestly? A little.”
I pull back and pout at him.
He smiles, running his grease stained thumb across my lips.
“Just don’t like… sleep with her. Or touch her. Or try not to even look at her.”
“You’re not being fair, Riley.”
“Yeah, but I’m also not blind and regardless of how badly I wish, I don’t have amnesia. I remember what she looks like, Dylan. And you’re a guy.”
He shakes his head with his intake of breath. Then he looks down at me. “I’m also a guy who’s madly in love with you, Riley.”
“What?” I whisper, my breath leaving me.
“You need me to repeat it?”
“No.” I try to suppress my smile. I can’t. “Maybe?”
He doesn’t skip a beat. “I’m madly in love with you, Riley.”
“Again?”
He laughs. “You want me to write it down?”
I can’t stop smiling. “Yes.”
With a chuckle, he releases me and gets a marker from one of the drawers on the bench, then grabs my arm. I watch his face as the pen presses down on my skin, marking me, making me his.
I love you, Riley Hudson.
Then underneath;
Semper Fidelis.
“Isn’t that the Marine Corps motto?”
He nods. “Know what it means?”
“No.”
“Always faithful.”
Dylan
There was always a level of fear when it came to Heidi. From the first time she talked to me sophomore year and even after we’d started dating. It’s completely fair to say she was the hottest girl in school, at least on my radar. When I finally took enough of her hints and worked up the courage to ask her out—I was still surprised she said yes. It was no secret she dated before me. Guys who were older, even Logan (if you can call what they did dating).
I guess what I’m trying to say is that I always found myself kind of in awe of her beauty and presence. Being with her was intimidating, to say the least. Maybe that’s why I kept my mouth shut around her—in fear that I’d say something dumb or try to joke around and she wouldn’t find it funny like Riley does.
But as I hear her car door close a good half hour after Riley left, followed by the clicking of her heels against the concrete of my driveway, I don’t feel intimidated. I don’t feel afraid. In fact, I don’t feel much of anything at all.
I wipe my hands on the rag and pop my head out from under the hood of the Honda, faking a smile as she walks toward me, her familiar hips swaying from side to side. She hadn’t changed much in the few months since I’d seen her. Not that I expected her to. I guess what’s changed is my perspective. Not just of her, but of us.