[+18]* NOW COMPLETE*
Back Series Book 2
Dylan's been a good boy all his life but there's this insurgent flame that has been burning inside him and it's waiting for the right moment to be let out. He doesn't know what or why but he knows that somethi...
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It's still a few days away but I couldn't help myself.
These past couple of weeks have been good. My mom hasn't been overdoing it, so I've been able to easily pay for everything, especially since Dylan insists on buying me lunch every day. That has allowed me to give in and buy a dress worthy of going to that Art exhibition Dylan told me about a few days ago.
It's safe to say that I've stopped trying to avoid him. That guy can be persistent, I'll give him that.
Still, I've had him at an arm's length ever since his break-up.
To be honest it's quite weird to have a guy be so open up about what he wants, what he's feeling and have him say it straight to my face. Men nowadays are soo bloomy about it.
The whole being mysterious and not wanting to commit is big and it seems that most girls dig it.
But Dylan is a breath of fresh air. Even though there's this part deep down inside of me that he's only looking for sex or that he is confused after being cheated on... There's a huge part of me who is already convinced he is sincerely interested in me.
I mean, the tension was already there before they even broke up and it's only heightened afterwards, no matter how many times I try to shut it down.
It's probably only a matter of time until I give in.
The moment I open the door to my house I notice something's wrong.
The house is not the homey type but I am proud to admit I managed to keep it clean and tidy most of the time.
That's not the case now.
It's trashed.
Chairs are thrown, the couch pillows are scattered on the floor not to mention the broken glass spread all around the flat's floor.
"What the fu-" I am cut off by a loud trashing sound coming from the corridor.
No. Coming from my bedroom.
I rush there and find my door broken into. The hinges are destroyed and inside, my mom is going through my stuff. She's throwing stuff around or crushing them when she fails to find wherever it is she's looking for.
"What the fuck are you doing?"
"Where is it?" She asks, turning to me with an enraged face.
"Where is what?"
"I know you have it somewhere, you've filled the pantry," she seethes. "Where's the fucking money?!"
Oh, of course.
Her mention of the money makes me look at her, closely. Her skin is sweaty, her eyes are sunken and her eyes can't settle in looking at one place only. She also keeps sweeping at her runny nose with extremely shaky hands.
Not to mention her irritable mood... She's definitely going through withdrawal.
"My money has paid for whatever you owed Dean last week and the bills alongside the food. I don't have any more money."
