Dylan whistled. “You’re not making this easy.”
“Not my problem. I’m sure you can survive without female attention for a few days.”
She fully expected him to get up and walk away this time, but he didn’t. He folded his arms across his chest and just sat there . . . long enough and quietly enough that the silence began to feel awkward. What did he want? Did he need to hear her say it? “I’m not going to have sex with you.” There, I could not be clearer.
“I didn’t ask you to.”
A blush warmed her cheeks as she acknowledged the truth of that. She met his gaze again and hated how she couldn’t stay neutral around him. Normally she was the cool head in a group, but add a dash of Dylan and she was either sounding off at him or secretly panting for him. Sometimes she did both simultaneously. It was bad. She didn’t walk around announcing to men she wouldn’t have sex with them.
Like that’s normal to do.
Beneath his sustained attention, her body began to heat. He was crass and immature. He and Connor had once kidnapped Ian, duct-taped him and stuffed him in a laundry basket for God’s sake. Every single time she saw him he was with a different woman. Why couldn’t her body understand how absolutely unappealing he was?
“I’m glad to hear, though, that you’re having just enough sex.” When she didn’t respond, he added, “That’s impressive. I’ve had not enough and too much, but I’ve never achieved ‘just enough.’ I should bring that topic up with my herd.”
I probably deserve that one. She looked away then back. “I shouldn’t have said that. Your personal life is none of my business.”
He lowered his arms and turned toward her. “I shouldn’t tease you about reading. I didn’t realize it was a sensitive subject.”
“It’s not.”
“I don’t really have anything against romances. Connor slid me a few and I thought they were well written.”
“I don’t read romances.”
“You might want to give them a try.”
Aly’s back straightened and she glared at him. “Why is that?”
Dylan lifted and lowered his shoulders. “Who doesn’t like a story with a happy ending?”
“I don’t require unrealistic expectations to be spoon-fed to me in the form of soft porn.”
“Because you like your porn hard core?”
She gasped and he chuckled.
“I’m kidding,” he said in a rush. “Truce.”
She sat back and they fell into another extended silence.
“You don’t watch porn,” he said like they were discussing her preference in spices.
“It’s disgusting and dehumanizes women into sexual objects.”
“So I should watch less.” The humor in his eyes was nearly irresistible.
Images of Dylan and her in a naked, tangled mess flooded in. She took a shaky breath and tried to focus on what they were talking about. “It’s not for me to judge what you do with your time.”
“But you do—judge me. Constantly. You think you know me, but you don’t.”
“I—I—” She wasn’t sure what to say to that. Her father had always been highly critical of every move she made, but he’d done it because he’d wanted her to excel. She wasn’t judgmental, at least not usually, but she couldn’t deny that she didn’t have the greatest impression of Dylan. I just need to do a better job of keeping my opinion of him to myself. She didn’t believe in intentionally ever making someone feel bad about themselves. “I’m sorry. You’re right, we’ve both said things we regret.”
His smile was easy. “See, we can do this.” He leaned closer, close enough to get Aly’s body humming for him. “We’re already making progress.”
Aly studied his expression. There was nothing there to suggest his intentions involved anything beyond what he was suggesting. “Toward being friends.”
He nodded slowly. “We should at least try. We’ll be hanging out a lot on this trip. I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to spend the whole time tiptoeing around you. We’ll both be more comfortable if we’re cool with each other. Plus, I’ve never invited anyone to come watch me on set before but I’m actually glad you all agreed to. It means a lot to me that you’re here.”
“I—”
He raised a hand. “Don’t say you’re not here for me because then I’ll say something stupid in response and we’ll be right back to where we started. Just say thank you.”
A small smile did pull at her lips that time. He was right. That’s exactly what would have happened. Friends? Maybe moving him over to that category would cool her response to him. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
They sat side by side in their first comfortable silence. She picked up her tablet and was about to unlock its screen when he asked, “You really don’t watch porn?”
She let her cocked eyebrow and steady stare be her answer. She was not about to go there with him. It was already too easy to imagine having sex with him.
He grinned. “I just thought that with you being an expert on female anatomy you might.”
She gave him another long look.
He rubbed the back of his neck as if in thought. “But I guess someone who looks at them all day for work wouldn’t want to watch them in action for fun.”
She just continued to hold his gaze.
As if realizing he might have wandered down a road he shouldn’t have, he stood and said, “I’m going to head back over to my seat so I’ll have my stuff next to me when we land.”
She should have let him go at that. They were good. No more tension, but they still had clear boundaries. It was just as it should be. When he took a step away, however, she said, “Dylan.”
He stopped and turned back toward her.
“Thank you for coming over to talk to me. You’re right, it will make the trip easier if we’re getting along.”
“Friends?” He held out his hand for her to shake.
Her body went all kinds of crazy haywire when his hand closed around hers. Of all the men she’d known, none had ever made her crave them. Her hand shook slightly in his as she realized that’s what he was—a dangerous craving.
The only thing worse than wanting a man from her small social circle despite how wrong he was for her, would be to complicate that situation by having sex with him. She was carefully methodical by nature and being intimate with Dylan would be choosing chaos. With some men she might be able to move on and pretend nothing happened, but something told her that would not be the case with Dylan.
“Friends,” she said with a forced smile.
It was the only course of action that made any sense.
Chapter Three
Had Dylan planned the details of their trip they would have flown over on a regular airline with first class seats only because he did need to be more careful now that he was in the public eye. Clay’s wife, Lexi, had offered to set everything up, and frankly it had been a relief. Prior to the Barringtons, Dylan’s experience with vacations had involved a tent and a roll of toilet paper—and he’d enjoyed them. Things were different, and when Clay was involved, beyond luxurious.