Awake | Book 1 of the AWAKE Series | (BWWM)

Chapter Nineteen

Dylan

            Christmas at Dean’s was insane. So many people stopped by the house to leave gifts and Mama Lydia refused to let them leave the premises until she had fixed them and their family a plate. Dean was quick to pull me back to my seat when I got up to try and help her.

“If you value your life, Angel, you’ll let her do this on her own,” he mumbled into my ear, a huge grin on his face.

Apparently this is a yearly occurrence. Mama Lydia works tirelessly through the night cooking and preparing dish warmers for the Christmas morning “gift drop.”  I brought it up again to Dean a second ago and he flew into a story about a few Christmases ago when he tried to help his mother and she smacked him with a spatula until he left out of the kitchen.

“It’s her domain,” he explains, taking his eyes off of the road for a second to connect with mine, “She likes to do every ounce of the work so that when she complains for the next two weeks about how tired she is no one can say they helped her.”

We both laugh and I look out the passenger door window. My mood is instantly brought down as I remember where we’re going. The road is a constant reminder. I watch it flashing it’s white and yellow stripes at me as we eat up the space between here and my mother’s home. It won’t be long now.   

A familiar squeeze to my left hand brings me back to the present. I look over to him and smile, he catches it in one of his quick glances between me and the road and smiles back. Neither of us say anything, we don’t have to. Our closeness has only expanded and grown, it feels like we can hear each other’s thoughts even though we can’t yet. Most of the time we’re on the same wavelength and as dull as I always thought it would be to have this kind of relationship, it isn’t. We have such a great time together even just being in the same space as each other. Even in times where we don’t agree or understand we always find a way through it, we always have and I hope we always will.

“We’re here Rose,” Dean says, his voice is calm and it annoys me. I’m a nervous wreck. I’m angry and scared and here he is being calm.

Stepping out of the car I slam the door a little harder than I intended and walk around to the open trunk. Dean looks up at me and shakes his head before reaching for our bags. I smack his hand and reach for my own luggage causing him to look at me again.

“I can carry my own shit Karter my hands aren’t broken,” I snap, folding my arms over my chest.

He sighs and drops the handles of the suitcases and takes a small step to the side. As soon as I move in to grab my stuff he snatches me by the waist, spinning me around, and sits me on the edge of the open trunk.

My hands find his shoulders for balance and my eyes find his to glare at him. “What the hell Karter?”

He pulls me to him and slants his lips over my own instantly melting any irritation I tried to hold onto. My hands glide up his neck and into his hair pulling slightly at the roots, forcing a growl from his throat.

“Feel better?” he asks, ignoring any response I might’ve had, “I know you’re conflicted about how to react to your mom but don’t take it out on me. I’m your mate, not your punching bag.”

With that he leaves me sitting on the edge of the trunk while he pulls our bags out and starts toward the front door. I sigh, realizing he’s right and hop down, closing the trunk behind me. Rushing to catch up I slip my hand in his and give it a slight squeeze. He looks down at me and I smile, too embarrassed to apologize. I know he accepts when he winks and nudges me softly with his shoulder.

We step onto the white oak of the porch and I knock on the door. I can hear my mother’s footsteps as she heads to the door and the thought runs through my mind to run back to the car and leave. My plans are foiled when the door swings open, thoroughly blowing my hair back with the force.