A Reason

Chapter 18

Dylan's lips pressed against mine with a soft urgency about them, his hands cupped the back of my neck keeping in place. I lifted my hands, trailing them up to rest around his shoulders as I pulled my lips away from him. His eyes fluttered open to look at me, breathe fanning across my face

"Why'd you stop?" he asked

I pushed away from him softly, resting back against the window "That's enough kissing you for one day."

He threw an arm around my shoulder "Well then, little Red, looks like you're calling the shots, so what now?"

"I've got to make dinner. Do you, I don't know, it's stupid, but..." I looked away "But do you ant to stay for dinner?"

He chuckled at me "Sure thing, Red." He said "What you making?"

I turned to look at him, ignoring the hard blush against my cheeks "I was thinking steak. Maybe get some donuts for desert..."

He grinned at me "Babe, you're the best."

I pressed my lips into a thin line, "Don't call me babe, just Red." I told him, needing to set some boundaries "No mushy crap, nothing changes, understand?"

"So what, we doing a friends-with-benefits deal?" He asked wiggling his eyebrows.

I pushed him to the side which just made him laugh at me more "Alright, alright, you have issues, I get that. It's hot." He leaned in again, lips brushing against my cheek "hottt."

I pushed him away again, "Dyl, behave." I snapped at him "I still have a lot to deal with, more than you can even comprehend, so this might be a little slow going."

He shrugged "I'm good with that, teaching you how to dance will be hot enough to keep be pinned down, little Red."

I blushed, unsure what to say to that and looked away.

He laughed at my discomfort again and I wanted to slap the stupid look off his stupid face and onto the stupid floor.

"So dinner?" He finally said after he had finished laughing.

I nodded and hopped off the bed, striding off to the hall "Well?" I asked him raising an eyebrow "you coming or you just going to sit there like a child?"

"And we're back to the normal Red." He muttered following me up and out the room to the kitchen. Marcus stared at Dylan as he followed me, and I didn't need to tell him that he'd be stopping for dinner, he'd know. I assumed they had already done the introductions to one another at the front door before Marcus let him in. I hope so anyway, I wasn't in a rush to introduce everyone.

I started making dinner while Dylan sat on the worktop, he was telling me what had happened in class today while I wasn't there and how Debs was trying to get him to join the dancers doing the dance about gay society, or as Dylan said the dance was called, "The art of Gay." I had to laugh at that, and muttered "whatever you're into," which he laughed about.

By the time Amy came home I had cooked four steaks and plated them out on the table. Amy eyed Dylan for a long moment, probably remembering him from yesterday at college.

"So My tells me your in dance together," Marcus said over dinner.

I rolled my eyes at his attempt for conversation. Dylan nodded "Yeah, we're doing a dance about street fighting."

Marcus dropped his fork, it clattered against the table and stared at him for a long moment, in which I shrunk back into myself poking at my steak. "Fighting?" he asked, as if needed to conformed what he knew he had heard.