Who's Your Daddy? (23 page)

“Come on. Luke’s a good guy.”

“Spare me.”

“He is.”

“He used to be.” It made me sad. “Until he hooked up with Miffany.”

“Well,” Dylan conceded, “Miffany’s definitely a hag.”

I raised my mug. “Finally, an assessment we can agree on.”

He lifted his mug, too.

We sipped, then I asked, “But, if you think Miffany’s
vomitous, why date her best friend? Haven’t you heard that you can tell a lot about a person by looking at their friends?”

“Yeah, I know. I don’t know how to answer that, though.” He cleared his throat. “But, what I really want to know is, what am I like?”

“I don’t know. Kind of … normal.”

He laughed. “And that’s a good thing?”

I shrugged. “Yeah.” I took another sip, and then I remembered my dad’s big speech in the dining room earlier that afternoon. The whole conversation seemed like it had happened weeks ago, but I totally owed Dylan. “By the way, thanks for telling my dad I was doing a good job with the narcs. I never thought you’d lie on my behalf, but that was cool of you.”

“I didn’t lie.”

I pulled my chin back with skepticism. “Oh, come on. You told him I was pleasant to work with, for God’s sake. Unless you’re a chronic glue sniffer, you can’t possibly believe that.”

He nodded. “Yes, I can. I happen to think you’re a blast to work with.”

“I complain constantly.”

He inclined his yead. “You protest a lot, but you do good work while you squawk, Lila, and you’re funny.”

I sat back and studied his face for a few moments. He seemed sincere, and I realized I needed to know more about this guy, right here and now. “Tell me something.”

“Snow is cold.”

“Shut up, Dylan.”

He grinned. “Okay, what?”

“How did you get involved with the narcs?”

It was his turn to lean back and study me. “How do you think I did?”

I reached up and scratched my cheek while I considered it. “I don’t know. I guess I thought you dug the idea of being in authority, so you joined up the moment you were allowed to. Like all the Moreno men. You know, the whole gung ho, macho jock thing.”

Dylan’s expression remained amused.

“What?”

“You’re so judgmental, Lila Jane.”

I narrowed my gaze into a threatening scowl. “Call me that again, and you’re a dead man. Besides, I am not judgmental! I call ’em as I’ve always seen ’em.”

“Hmmm.”

“So? Are you going to tell me?”

“What?”

“How you came to be a junior narc.”

“Oh, that.” He sipped, then swallowed. “I stole a car.”

My brain froze. “Huh?!”

He flipped his hand. “Well, not ‘stole,’ technically. At least that wasn’t my intent. I took it for a joyride on a dare. Summer before last.”

I could not believe what I was hearing.

“Some old friends of mine and I saw this amazing car parked over by the north boat launch at the lake. It was a Viper, unlocked, with the keys in the ignition.”

“Tempting.”

“Way. We started joking around, daring each other to get inside and take it for a spin. You know how ninth grade guys are.”

I made a BLECH face. “Unfortunately.”

“I wasn’t planning on getting in, but they challenged me one time too many and I couldn’t resist.”

I scoffed. “See? Typical jock.”

“Be quiet.” He reached across the cushions and plinked my forehead with his finger.

“Ow!” I rubbed the stinging spot, but even the plink gave me tummy swirls. Man, I was in trouble with this guy. Especially knowing he was more hottie-rebel than I’d ever given him credit for!

“Anyway, I decided just to take the Viper for a short spin and return it to the exact spot where we’d found it, unscathed. Unfortunately, the White Peaks PD had other ideas.”

“They ruin all the fun.”

“Yeah.” He huffed out this humorless little laugh. “The owner of the car, I guess, saw me drive off in his ride. He called 9-1-1, and they snagged me in a matter of minutes.”

“Score one for the good guys.”

“I guess.” He looked chagrined. “I got pulled over and arrested less than a mile from where I’d snatched the car.”

Wow. I mean … wow. “Dude, can I say that completely doesn’t seem like something you’d do? Not even under the influence of testosterone overload and peer pressure.”

“I know. And, I’m not bragging about the car thing.” He ruffled his hand through his hair. “I was at a really
low point in my life, I guess. It was just after my parents divorced, and they were
not
getting along. I felt like each of them was trying to use me to hurt the other one.”

“That blows.”

“Yeah. We’ve made up, though.” He leaned against the arm of the loveseat with his back and propped one leg up on the cushion between us. I could feel his body heat from the nearness of that leg, and I liked it.

“But, still. The car theft isn’t my proudest moment.” He seemed to struggle with his next words. “Your dad really saved me, though.”

I blinked at him in confusion. “My dad?”

“Yeah. I was all set to go on probation and even do a little bit of time in juvenile hall, if the judge decided to make an example out of me. Your dad pulled rank, called in favors, whatever. I’m not sure how it all came about, but the next thing I knew, I found myself sitting in his office. He told me that I needed to be a part of something that would teach me discipline and respect for the rules.”

Ha! It was the same spiel Dad had laid on me. I smirked. “Did you think he was going to enroll you in karate?”

“What?” Dylan looked lost.

Hmmm. Maybe the karate thing really had been a mental stretch. Who knew? “Never mind. Go on.”

Dylan shook his head, as though to rid it of cobwebs. “When your dad gave me the chance to prove myself with the Explorers, I couldn’t jump on it fast enough. I mean, it was that or juvie and probation.”

“Not much of a choice.”

“No. And even though your dad knew exactly why I was in the Explorers, he never treated me like I was some dirtbag delinquent who needed to be closely monitored.” Dylan gave a self-derisive snort. “I know how rebellious I was back then, and that wouldn’t have worked for me at all. Instead, he gave me responsibilities and encouraged me to study for and take the promotional tests. It was as if he believed in me.”

“He probably did.”

“Yeah, but he had no reason to. See what I mean?” Dylan shook his head slowly “I know you think being an Explorer is the worst thing in the world, but it saved my life, Lila. My parents were so caught up in their own trauma back then, and I’d started hanging out with some real slackers. I don’t know where my head was.”

I swallowed tightly, my respect for Dylan blooming into something huge and leaving me breathless. “Thanks,” I said. “For telling me all that.”

He shrugged. “In answer to your unspoken question, yeah, I wanted to be like your dad. I still do. But that doesn’t mean I want to become a police chief.”

“No?”

He shook his head and grinned. “I want to go to the Olympics. But no matter what career I choose, I want to be the kind of
man
your dad is.” He flipped his hand. “I mean, he gives people the benefit of the doubt, even when they might not deserve it. He looks past the behavior and sees the potential, and
that
is what he focuses on.”

It was true. I just hadn’t seen it so clearly.

“I want to always remember that people make mistakes. I want to give them choices and chances. Pay it forward, you know? I owe him that much.”

That sense of pride in my father returned sharply. My dad had played a key role in transforming my number-one crush into the awesome guy he was. It had a freaky kind of karmic justice to it. I admitted to myself that, in the past, I had made a few snap judgments. Maybe my
fear and loathing of being a junior narc was one example. (Although the man pants were still ugly, and nothing would change my opinion on that.)

I finished my machiatto and set the mug on the table. “So, do you like being an Explorer, or do you like the fact that it saved you from juvie?”

“Both. At first it was just an easy ticket out, but the more I participated, the more I respected myself. And the more I respected myself, the better I felt about my parents’ divorce, my life, my future—all of it.” He cast me a playful sidelong glance. “It’s fun being an Explorer. Plus, it helped me to stop making knee-jerk assessments about other people.”

I knew he was nudging me, much like my father had probably nudged him back then, to do the same. “Give me an example.”

He pursed his lips and thought about it. “Okay. I used to think girls like Jennifer were the ultimate prize. Who wouldn’t want to date them, you know?”

UGH. I hadn’t expected that. Jealousy hauled off and kicked me square in the gut. “Oh.”

“But now, I’ve had the chance to meet a more unique girl.”

My heart revved. “You have?”

“Yep. She follows her own path and doesn’t fall into that annoying clique behavior. She’ll eat in front of me. Plus she’s funny and smart and witty and beautiful and well, not very nice.”

I blurted a nervous little laugh. “Who?”

“You.”

GLURK! Was this actually happening? I wished I could digitally record this entire moment, so I could play it back at any speed, zoom in, zoom out, and all that stuff at will. “Me?”

“Yup.” He reached across the back of the sofa and gently brushed tendrils of my hair away from my neck. “I’ve never known anyone like you, Lila.”

“W-what do you mean?”

“With other girls, I always felt like I had to play the role of the popular jock. As if they liked my image rather than the real me. That’s a lot of pressure. Besides, I don’t feel like that guy deep inside.”

“Yeah?”

“Totally. But see, I don’t feel that pressure from you.”

“That’s because popular jocks are usually major tools.”

He laughed and tugged at my hair a little harder. “See? With you, I can just be myself.” His expression grew serious, and his voice got huskier. “I like it, Lila. A lot.”

AHHHHH, he was leaning closer! I felt like a tornado was touching down inside my stomach, so I went for the flippant reply. “It’s nice to know you have the capacity for taste in women, Dylan. I was really beginning to worry about you.”

He grinned. “Lila?”

“What?”

“I so totally want to kiss you right now.”

ACCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCK!!!

“Y-you do?”

“Yep. How do you feel about that?”

I moistened my lips with a quick flick of my tongue. “I feel like I’d rather do it than talk about it.”

Dylan released a low, totally hot little growly laugh, then leaned forward. He cupped my cheek gently, and his eyes locked with mine. “I’ve wanted to do this for the longest time.”

“Y-you have?”

“Oh yeah. Want to know something?”

“Um … sure.”

“Jennifer was jealous of you.”

I snorted. “Not a newsflash, Sebring. Tell me something I didn’t know.”

“Alright. She had every reason to be jealous of you.”

My heart absolutely soared. He almost didn’t have to kiss me for that moment to be perfect, except he went ahead and did it, and the moment transformed into freakin’ stupendously, life-altering perfect. His lips were warm, soft and firm at the same time. It was the best first kiss in the history of the universe, and I made a mental note to send Jennifer a thank you note for giving Dylan the practice.

Ha! Not really, but the thought cheered me so much that I decided this day, which had started out so badly, had turned out to be the best day of my life.

Dylan pulled back from the kiss slightly. “Lila?” I could feel his warm breath against my mouth.

“Yeah?”

“Do you want to go out?”

My stomach quivered with excitement. “You mean, ‘go out,’ go out?”

He laughed softly. “Yeah.”

I smiled. “Okay. On one condition.”

Dylan laughed again, all private and intimate-like. “Why doesn’t it surprise me that you have conditions?”

“Do you want to hear it or not?”

“Whip it on me.”

I reached up and traced the edge of his jaw with my finger. I only wondered if that was a stupid move for a split second, and then decided it felt just right. I’ll go out with you, if you promise that one of our dates is to prom.”

He pulled his chin back. “That’s it?”

“What do you mean, that’s it?”

“I was planning to ask you a long time ago, but I needed to get things with Jennifer squared away and make sure you didn’t totally despise me first.”

“Are you serious?”

“Dead.”

I could have killed him. If he only knew the trauma I’d gone through trying to get fate to point me AWAY from Someone Else’s Guy. But I had to forgive him, because, hey, we were going to prom!!! At least, I thought so. He hadn’t actually confirmed it. “Are we going to prom together, then?”

“We’re going to prom together.”

I grinned. “That totally rocks.”

“I’ll say.” And then he leaned in and kissed me some more.

We were so caught up in each other, in sharing little coffee-flavored kisses, that it took three rings before we noticed that someone was calling Dylan’s cell. He pulled away from me, yanked his phone off his belt clip, then read the caller ID. His baffled gaze flicked up and met mine. “It’s Caressa.”

“Huh? Why’s she calling your cell?”

“I don’t know.” He flipped it open. “Hello?” A pause ensued, while he listened. “Yeah, hi. She’s right here.”

I cocked my head questioningly, and he shrugged and handed the phone over.

“Hey, Caressa.”

“Lila.” Her voice was more wigged than I’d ever heard it before. “Holy, holy, holy crap. I’m so glad I found you.”

I sat forward, immediately alarmed. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Or maybe everything,” she rasped. “I’m not sure at this point because I can’t think straight.”

“What’s going on?!” I demanded.

“He’s here.”

“Who?”

“Bobby Slade. He’s at my house.”

“NO WAY!”

“Way. Freakin’ totally WAY. He’s in my dad’s studio as we speak, jamming the blues with my father.”