Page 31 of Betting on her Best Friend
Chapter Nine
“You can’t be serious, Dylan,” she said in apparent disbelief. “Have you gone completely insane?” Pushing past him, she headed for the door in a panicked rush.
Goddammit! This had all the signs of a train wreck.
“Alyssa, wait.” He followed her out the door and jogged the couple steps it took to catch up to her in the hall as she stalked toward the elevators. “Tell me what makes me so insane. That I want to spend the rest of my life with someone I love and who knows me better than anyone else? Hell, we already acted like a married couple apart from sex and where we slept, and we crossed both those bridges last night. How much different would it really be if we started staying on the same side of the townhouse?”
They rounded the corner just as two ladies dressed in masquerade attire boarded the elevator. Alyssa raised her arm up and called, “Hold the elevator, please!”
Her gait went from speed-walking to a light jog as though she wore cross-trainers instead of high heels. If she thought being in public would stop him, she was dead wrong. As they entered the elevator car, he put his back to the other ladies and braced one hand on the wall at Alyssa’s shoulder. “Tell me exactly what it is that makes this—us—such a bad idea.”
As they started their slow descent she said, “Eighty-five percent of marriages—”
Using the hand already on the wall, Dylan smacked it against the cold metal. “Fuck the statistics, Aly.” Not only did Alyssa jump, but he saw the women behind him startle in the blurry reflection. “You weave those things around you like a jaded suit of armor, and I think it’s total bullshit. I get that it’s your job to know that stuff, but you focus on it too much. You should focus a little more on my job and maybe you wouldn’t be so damn pessimistic.”
“You think I should focus on construction,” she said with obvious doubt.
“Yeah, I do. It shows you what results when you build something right. Whether it’s a cabin in the mountains or a high-rise in the city, there’re three things I need in order to make it the best it can be.” Holding his free hand between them, he ticked them off with his fingers. “A strong foundation to build on, solid framing to hold it together, and damn good teamwork.”
The elevator slowed to a stop and the doors slid open. From the corner of his eye, he saw a guy wearing a tux and black half-mask join their awkward party, but Dylan ignored him like the others. Alyssa glanced past his shoulder at the newcomer and then spoke softly.
“Dylan, I don’t know where you’re going with this, but I don’t want to discuss it anymore.”
He didn’t bother to acknowledge the statement. He wasn’t giving up because she was uncomfortable or embarrassed. They’d never see these people again, and if he didn’t get this out now, he didn’t know if he ever would. “Just listen. You don’t get a stronger foundation than a lifelong friendship like ours. Love is the framing that’ll hold us together no matter what we face. And as far as the last thing goes, I’d say our teamwork shoots way past ‘damn good’ into the ranges of mind-blowing and best-I’ve-ever-had.”
“Dylan,” Alyssa whispered as her cheeks flooded with color.
“I’m only being honest. And having the kind of chemistry that burns up the sheets and breaks lamps is nothing to be ashamed about.”
Behind him, quiet gasps and what might have been a muttered “Amen” barely registered on his radar. But as they finally reached their floor, the man angling himself to get a better look at Alyssa didn’t escape Dylan’s notice.
The doors parted. “Is this guy bothering you? Do you want me to find security?”
“No, that’s not necessary,” she answered. “We’re just talking.”
Dylan recognized the voice as that of Captain Mark of the S.S. Douchebag. Lowering his arm, he turned to confront the player who’d tried getting in Alyssa’s panties the night before.
“You again,” Mark said with more than a hint of disdain.
The ladies passed between them, visibly trying to make themselves as small as possible. The second one paused long enough at the threshold to give him a sympathetic look and mouth “Good luck” before chasing after her friend.
The doors closing again jolted the three of them remaining into action. Dylan and Mark each shot out a hand to activate the sensors, and Alyssa didn’t waste any more time. Grabbing handfuls of her dress, she hitched up the front and swept into the lobby. Dylan stepped in her direction but was pulled up short with a hand on his shoulder.
“Swing and a miss, buddy. Step aside and give someone else a chance.”
Dylan growled as he spun around and got within an inch of the prick’s face. “You even try to touch her, and I’ll make sure you won’t need the fake hook for your costume next year. Got it?”
“Whoa.” Palms out, the pretty boy backed up. “Whatever, man. There’s plenty of fish in the sea. I don’t need that cold one.”
The man’s attitude made Dylan sick but teaching him a lesson in respecting women would be a waste of time he didn’t have. Turning back, he scanned the area for Alyssa.
“Ho. Ly. Shit.” The lobby area of the second floor was wall-to-wall women in similar styles of dresses in every color. Including white. She’d disappeared as sure as Cinderella fleeing the prince. At least Cinderella had the decency to leave a clue behind so the prince could find her.
Then again, the prince didn’t have the luxury of having Cinderella’s cell number.
* * *
Alyssa stareddown at Dylan from the balcony above the ballroom lobby. She’d managed to blend into the crowd and make it to the far side of the room to climb the sweeping staircase and hide out behind a large column. Her heart was beating faster than a hummingbird’s wings, and her stomach had twisted into so many knots during the elevator ride down that she didn’t think she’d be able to eat anything ever again.
