Chapter 2

The next few days, I didn't see Dylan again. Maybe he was too busy. Or maybe, he simply didn't want to see me, just like for the past five years.

I couldn't help but feel a little disappointed, but there was nothing I could do. After all, I was the one who rejected him. Someone as proud as him wouldn't want to be friends with the person who turned him down.

I slipped back into my old routine, going to work, and blocking the occasional random number that popped up.

After work one day, my mom called, her voice tinged with worry. "Avery, you and Blake… you guys broke up, right?"

"Yeah, we did. Mom, who told you?"

"Ugh, Blake's aunt told me. Weren't you two doing so well? His family wants me to talk to you, see if you'll change your mind." My mom hesitated.

"Mom, just stay out of it. We broke up, and that's final. We only met on a blind date anyway, there wasn't much real feeling between us." As I was speaking, I looked up and saw a familiar figure standing before me.

Dylan, hands in his pockets, looked tired, like he'd just finished a shift, but his eyes sparkled with an undeniable amusement.

He mouthed, "Dinner? My treat."

I casually told my mom I'd explain everything when I came home next, then hung up.

Dylan didn't wait for me to speak, pulling my hand and leading me into a taxi.

After giving the driver an address, he just muttered, "Wake me when we're there," before leaning his head on my shoulder and closing his eyes to rest.

I froze at the sudden physical contact, unsure how to react. I could only turn my head to stare out the window, praying he couldn't hear my heart hammering like a drum.

After a long moment, he chuckled. "Nervous, sis?"

That single 'sis' snapped me back to the memory of him pinning me against the wall, his breath hot against my ear, those husky whispers.

I cleared my throat, forcing out, "We're here. Let's get out."

Agitated and flustered, I just charged forward blindly, not caring if he was following me.

Dylan suddenly grabbed my elbow, pulling me into his embrace. He still smelled the same – a faint, clean scent, like fresh linen with a hint of something woodsy. It hadn't changed in all these years.

It wasn't until Dylan murmured, "Excuse me," to someone beside us that I realized I'd almost bumped into them.

He released me just as quickly, looking down to tell me to watch my step, then walked ahead. But before he did, his hand brushed lightly against the back of mine.

I cursed silently and followed him.

What exactly had this kid been learning all these years? He was so… alluring.

"Your mom called me. She wanted me to convince you to get back together," Dylan said, not even looking up as he served me food. His tone was not as light as before.

"But your stance seemed pretty firm, and frankly, I wasn't going to try anyway," he continued, changing the subject. "So today, it's just two long-lost neighbors having dinner."

Long-lost neighbors? Fine.

I pushed down the strange feeling in my chest and finished dinner with Dylan, feigning casualness.

After dinner, Dylan walked me back to my apartment. But as we arrived, we bumped into Blake Miller, drunkenly stumbling around outside my building.

My gut told me something was wrong; Blake must have lost money gambling again. Yes, he gambled. I only found out after we broke up. His incessant bothering wasn't because he liked me so much, but because my income was decent, and he wasn't willing to give up a clear money tree.