Love Emerged (27 page)

“You know I can’t leave my mom.”

I nod because Yasmin needs to stay in Detroit. Her mom is in an assisted living facility because her Multiple Sclerosis is getting worse, and Yasmin can’t take care of her.

“Maybe you both could move?”

She shakes her head. “No. I’ll have to leave. Traci said that the option isn’t for everyone anyway. That they’ll be calling people in this morning. I assume everyone who’s leaving will be called in first.”

I take a deep breath. When I first heard the company might be moving, I never thought about my job not being secure.

“What’s going on?” Dylan watches another moving guy with a box pass by.

“Deacon’s going to Chicago,” I say.

He looks at a crying Yasmin and nonverbally asks me with his eyes.

“Not everyone is going to be asked to come.” Even as the words leave my mouth, I’m in shock.

“Dylan, can I see you?” Tim hollers over the wall.

“Sure thing.” He drops his bag and jacket on the desk. “Wish me luck.”

“Oh, please, like Golden Boy has to worry,” Yasmin says.

I agree. Deacon thinks Dylan shits gold. Which makes Yasmin’s theory refutable.

Dylan disappears, and after Yasmin is half under control, I walk over to my own desk, finding John cleaning out his drawer.

“This sucks,” he says. “But, hell, if they ask, I’m going. I need a change of scenery.”

“Why wouldn’t they bring us all in? Especially if we’re willing to move ourselves.”

He shrugs, and my phone buzzes.

“Looks like it’s your turn.” John looks at the phone.

Yasmin’s words ring in my head. I assume the first ones called will be the first ones out. Damn, this isn’t looking good.

“Hi, Tim,” I answer.

“Bea, can you come here?”

“Sure thing.” I shrug out of my coat and leave everything on my desk.

On the way to Tim’s office, I see the movers taking down a vacant cubicle. Man, even if I get the job, would I want to leave Detroit? I mean, this has been my home since I started college. It’s the longest I’ve ever lived anywhere. Sad how a spot on a map somehow makes me feel safe.

Dylan is all smiles when I take the chair next to him in Tim’s office. Hopefully, that’s good news.

“Bea,” Tim begins talking, “you’ve been selected to go to Chicago. You’ll be working remotely for two weeks, and we expect to see you at the office on Monday after Thanksgiving.”

“Really?” My hand lands over my heart. “Oh, thank goodness.”

“You’ll find details in your email. Please don’t say anything to anyone else. You two are the only ones who have been selected to come. Congratulations to the both of you.”

I smile and look over to Dylan, who matches my expression. We leave his office, trying to hide our happiness with solemn faces. I make it out to the elevators and press the button to go down. Dylan follows, and once we reach the lobby and round the corner, he wraps me up in a warm hug.

“Congratulations, baby,” he whispers, my feet lifting from the ground. “Move in with me.”

“Move in?” I draw back, staring him in the eyes.

We’ve grown closer, and I’ve tried to keep both feet in our relationship. But moving in? As in, sharing a bathroom, coming home to him every night?

Suddenly, I can’t breathe. In fact, my voice is lost in the trenches of my throat.

“I’m a great cook, I clean up after myself, and I’ll give you a workout every night.” He winks, and my stomach flips.

He’s the only man I would consider moving in with, so without thinking, I answer, “I’d love to.”

Dylan

“YOU’RE MOVING IN TOGETHER?” MY
mom screeches.

I press my hands down in the air to quiet her.

“She’s just upstairs,” I remind her.

She grabs my arm, like I’m a preteen who just talked back, leading me outside. She lets me go after the back door shuts, and we’re left in the freezing cold November Thanksgiving day. I cross my arms and tuck my hands under them for warmth. Snow flurries sprinkle down on the cold pavement.

“It is twenty degrees,” I mention.

Her eyes stay steady on me, ignoring my point. “Dylan, you’ve known her for, what? A few months?” My mom stares up to the dreary overcast day and shakes her head.

“She’s it, Mom.” I smile.

She narrows her eyes. “You thought Ava was the one.” Her eyebrows shoot up in question.

Here’s a hint—don’t ever tell your mom crap.

“It’s different with Bea. I feel it in my gut.”

She blows out a stream of air, making a few strands of her bangs stand. I glance through the glass French door to check if Bea’s returned from getting ready.

“I don’t even know what to say.” She continues to shake her head, like one of those sport character bobbleheads winding down. “You have your whole future. What’s the rush?”

“I think I love her,” I admit, glancing around to make sure no one is hiding behind the bushes. I’m petrified if I tell her that I’m positive I love Bea, my mom would try to change my mind.

“
Think
isn’t good enough.”

Well, that decision got thrown back in my face.

“I do, but I haven’t told her yet.”

“Why?” My mom’s demeanor changes.

The one advantage I have in this conversation is that my close relationship with my mom enables us to truly talk. Even about feelings. She’s been my number one cheerleader all my life. No one knows how much I struggled more than her.

I look around again and quiet my voice. “She’s had a rough life.”

My mom’s eyes soften, and I expect her to give me a hug and wish us luck.

“More the reason not to move so fast, Dylan. I cannot see where this is going to work. You’re two different people. She’ll end up breaking—”

“My heart,” I finish the sentence for her.

She nods, and water pools in her eyes. I pull her small body into me for a hug, and she wraps her arms tight around my middle.

“I can handle myself. I’m a big boy now.”

She nods her head into my chest, and I push her back, holding on to her shoulders so that she can see my confident eyes.

“It will work between us. We’re good for one another, and if by some chance it doesn’t work, I’ll survive.”

I dip my head down to her level, and a small smile creases her lips.

“I just don’t want you to get hurt.” She conveys what I already know.

She’s my mom, the one who is supposed to protect me from demons. She just needs to be assured that Bea isn’t a demon ready to battle her angel.

She hugs me one more time, and I look over her shoulder, finding Bea sauntering into the kitchen. Her hair is back to all blonde, the pink tips gone. She’s casual in jeans and a sweater, looking gorgeous.

“Just be careful,” my mom says, laying her hand on my cheek.

“I will.”

We walk back into my childhood home, and Bea’s vision catches mine. She silently asks what was going on with her eyes, but I smile, appeasing her, telling her that it was nothing she needs to worry about.

My mom’s busy making the Thanksgiving dinner for us and the Ashby’s. My brother, Tanner, returned from Piper’s house to spend time with us, but all he’s doing is lying on the couch, watching television. Bea is upstairs on the phone with her dad.

I sit down, opposite my brother, and toss a pillow at his head. “Get up, you lazy shit,” I say, spurring him to sit up.

“I train ten hours a day, plus do endorsements, and then I work out again when I get home with Piper.” A sly smile rises on his lips.

I prefer not to hear about my brother and his now fiancée fucking.

“This is my only day off.”

“Piper gave you time off?”

“Hell no, not that I would ever want time off from that.” He grabs his water bottle. “Speaking of women . . .” He raises his eyebrows at me.

“We were talking about Piper and your training. Nowhere did I mention anything else.”

“Come on. What’s going on with you two? Mom said you were moving in together in Chicago.” He inhales a deep breath. “Not sure that’s the right choice.”

“Not sure I asked you.” My eyes focus on the Lions game because, if my brother gives me shit, I’ll give him my fist.

“Hey”—he holds his hands out in defense—“I’m on your side, whichever one that is. Always.”

“I know. It’s just . . . first, it was mom, and I really like Bea. Tan, am I crazy?” I finally look over to him and notice he’s no longer watching the football game either. I should have called him earlier if I wanted advice, but even if he doesn’t approve, that won’t stop me from being with her.

“I have to say, at first, I didn’t want you anywhere near each other. I’ve known Bea for six years, and you know her past, but I also know people exaggerate. Once someone sleeps with one person, others claim it, too. That could very easily be the situation with her. Even if it’s not, and she really did sleep around, does that make her less of the person you fell in love with?”

“Who said I fell in love?”

He points to me. “Your actions. Those eyes that watch her everywhere, the hands that sneak quick touches. You might not be ready to admit it to yourself, but you are. Before you get any more serious, you need to be okay with her past.”

I contemplate his advice and if I really am okay with Bea’s baggage. Even with her dysfunctional family who have screwed her up emotionally, I am. I want a future with her, and I hope she’ll stick around long enough to find she wants one with me.

“How did you know with Piper?”

“Hell”—he runs his hand through his hair—“different situation. I’ve known since high school that I loved her. Don’t be the jackass I was and hold back.” He stands up, shaking his empty water bottle in my face. “Need to stay hydrated. Want anything?”

“A pitcher of vodka?” I joke.

His hand clasps me on the shoulder before he leaves the room. “You’ll be good, little brother. Just get back on that horse.”

I hear his bare feet padding on the hardwood toward the kitchen. The game might be on, but my focus is everywhere but on the score. I do like Bea and love her, but to admit that to her would push us into a realm I don’t think either one of us is prepared to conquer.

Bea

I’ve asked Dylan’s mom, Lana, if she needed help in the kitchen. No. I’ve asked her if she wanted me to set the table. No. I’ve asked her if she wanted me to clean off the table. No. I’m fairly sure if I asked her if she wanted me to leave, the answer would be an ecstatic yes.

She’s not mean to me. A smile is plastered on her face every time she says no. But it’s very clear that I’m not her favorite person. It’s odd because before I was dating her son, I was her drinking buddy. I’m guessing she’s being protective of her baby boy.

Now, I’ve resorted myself to hiding in the bathroom to stay clear of her. Dylan’s knocked on the door no more than three times, and each time, I tell him I’ll be right out. I’m not going to tell him that his mom scares me. I mean, my own mom doesn’t like me, so why would another person’s?

I leave the safe confines of the bathroom and am on my way toward the kitchen when my phone rings. Seeing a number I don’t recognize, I hit Ignore, but it rings right back.

Dylan and Tanner are razzing each other in the family room, so I sneak off toward the front door and swipe the bar over.

“Hello?” I answer, figuring it’s another telemarketer that got my number.

“Bea?” a male voice says, the same one that first had me melting from the sound of my name coming from his lips.

My pulse quickens, and I sneak far away from anyone else. Dylan is still in the dark about Austin, and I’d rather devastate him myself than for him to overhear me on the phone.

“How did you get my phone number?” I ask. But then I remember Chicago. “Mother dearest?”

“Yeah. I’m sorry, Bea, but I’m desperate to talk to you. I’ve tried to give you time.” His voice is tenderer than I remember.

“I can’t believe her.” My free hand clenches into a fist as I take a seat on Dylan’s parents’ living room chair, staring out at the rolling hills in their neighborhood.

They might not have my dad’s kind of money, but they aren’t struggling either. I’m envious the same way I was with Piper the first time she brought me home because it’s a nice neighborhood. This is where the nice people come to raise their kids.