Page 29 of Forbidden Fruit
Dylan.
Finally.
I stare at the screen a second too long. I’d called him earlier, but maybe I was being a littledramatic now that I think about it. In my defense, it was right after Calvin had cornered me against the piano and said things that lit my body on fire. So, I called. I wanted him, no, I needed him, to save me from doing something unforgivable.
“Hey, sorry I missed your call. I was having breakfast with the fam,” Dylan says, his voice warm and easy, familiar in a way that settles something in me.
“Hi. Yeah, no worries… I just wanted to check in. See how you’re doing,” I say as I start the engine, letting the sunlight pour in through the windshield and wrap around me like a weighted blanket.
“What’s wrong? What do you need?” he asks, that teasing edge in his tone both comforting and irritating.
“Can you be here tomorrow?” The words spill out before I can stop them. I already know the answer.
“What? No, I don’t have money for that. And I’m not about to drive from Ohio to Boston,” he says, and just like that, my heart sinks a little. Dylan’s the only guy I sleep with, my one consistent person. I don’t do hookups, never have. I trust him. That’s why I need him now. To keep me grounded… to keep me from doing something reckless and irreversible.
“What if I paid for your ticket?” I ask, the desperation bleeding through despite my best efforts to stay cool. “You come, we hang out, I show you around… what do you say?”
There’s a pause. Then, smug and cocky: “Need me that bad, huh?”
I roll my eyes, my grip tightening on the steering wheel. “Are you coming or not?”
“Tell me how much you need me first…”
“You know what? Never mind.” I exhale, already regretting this whole conversation.
He laughs softly on the other end. “Alright, alright. Don’tget all sensitive. If you’re buying the ticket, I’ll come. No panic necessary.”
A smile tugs at my lips before I can stop it. “Really?”
“Yeah. Just send me the details,” he says. “I’ll make it happen.”
“Okay,” I say, a little breathless. “Thanks, Dylan. Really.”
“Anytime.”
“Talk soon,” I murmur and hang up.
I sit there for a beat, the phone still in my hand, letting the relief settle over me. Having Dylan here might be exactly what I need. Something solid and familiar. A reminder of who I am and what I don’t want to become. Maybe with him around, I can resist the gravitational pull of Calvin. Maybe I can remember what I stand to lose if I give in to something that was never supposed to happen.
One weekend. That’s all I need. Just enough time to get my head back on straight.
Returning to the penthouse, the silence is suffocating. No sign of Calvin. He left hours ago after what happened by the piano, after he touched me like he owned every part of me. I haven’t seen him since.
He’s probably holed up in some marble boardroom being important, while I’ve been hiding in my room, booking Dylan’s flight.
I used Abigail’s card, because fuck it, and found the earliest ticket I could. Dylan will land tomorrow at ten. I just have to make it through the night without completely unraveling.
Just as the confirmation email lands in my inbox, there’s a knock at the door. My heart lurches.
“Blair. It’s me. May I come in?”
Calvin’s voice slides under the door like smoke, velvety and controlled, but edged with something sharp. Possessive. My stomach tightens.
He’s the last person I want to see right now. Not in this room that suddenly feels smaller than it is. I freeze, torn between the instinct to run and the pull I can’t seem to resist.
But my feet move anyway, traitorous, like they’ve always answered to him.
I crack the door just enough to meet his gaze and force a smile that feels as fake as it looks. “Hi,” I say, voice thinner than I’d like.
