At the sight of him, time stuttered to a halt. So did the breath in her lungs. She had to be seeing things. Stress induced, exhaustion induced, lack of sugar induced . . . Whatever the reason, she fumbled for her glasses in the front pocket of her portfolio and slid them on. Pushing them up her nose, she took another peek.
But nope, he was still sitting there, the unwelcome blast from her past, his dark eyes taking her in, expression hooded and unreadable.
Her heart kicked hard and she began to sweat. She pulled out her iPad and accessed her class roster, the one she hadn’t had a chance to look at since receiving it late last night. She took a look at the list and froze.
Dylan Scott was listed. He’d registered for her class.
She jerked her gaze back up. His mouth curved slightly and she lost concentration. Quickly, she mentally ran through her tricks for her public speaking anxiety. Don’t look them right in the eyes. Look just over their heads. Smile. Breathe. Repeat.
Don’t stroke out.
“Hello, everyone,” she said with more cheer than she felt. Because what she felt was the urge to run home, dive under her covers, and stay there until the semester was over. Nerves jangling in her stomach, she forced a smile. “Welcome to Graphic Design 101.”
She got a few murmurs. A very few. Still doing her best to ignore Dylan in the front row—and failing spectacularly—she tried not to be bummed at the low level of enthusiasm. It was eight a.m., she reminded herself. And a Monday. Plus, this class was an elective, which meant people took it as a filler and not because they were excited about learning graphic art.
“It’s going to be fun,” she said as cheerfully as she could while also squirming just a little bit under the dark, speculative gaze of Dylan.
Why hadn’t she taken more care with her hair? And had she even put on a lick of makeup? She couldn’t remember. “Really,” she said. “I promise.” She tried to think of her next line, but her brain was on repeat. Dylan. Dylan. Dylan . . . “I’m sorry,” she finally said and looked right at him. “But why are you here?”
Everyone risked whiplash trying to get a glimpse of who she was speaking to. There were whispers and a few nervous giggles.
Dylan didn’t look bothered in the least. He didn’t fidget. Didn’t even blink. “Wanted to learn graphic design,” he said.
Bullshit. When they’d first met, he’d been sixteen to her fifteen and he’d had not a single artistic inkling. He’d wanted to be an astronaut.
She’d wanted to be a world-famous artist. Only she hadn’t gotten even close. That she had that upcoming show at the art gallery downtown was in thanks to Quinn and Mick for donating heavily. But she’d figured a pity show was better than no show at all.
As for Dylan, she knew from a few late night, alcohol fueled online searches that she wouldn’t admit to even under the threat of death that he’d gone into the marines. He’d made something of himself.
And she’d been swimming in place.
From the podium, her phone flashed a Twitter notification.
Day One, Teacher @TillyAdams is losing her shit in art class. Going to be fun . . .
Perfect. “If you’ll all excuse us a minute,” she said to the class and gestured for Dylan to meet her off to the side of the room.
With an easy, almost animalistic grace he rose from his chair and headed toward her while she did her best not to drown in memories. He was still long-legged and lanky, but filled out in all the right places, looking like the hottest thing she’d ever seen. But seriously, he had a lot of nerve showing up after all this time with zero contact after breaking her heart and crushing her soul. Good thing she was no longer a naive teenager. She had her life together. Completely. One hundred percent. Okay, sixty-five percent.
“I don’t know what game you’re playing,” she whispered. “But it isn’t funny. I think you should leave.”
“No game,” he said. “I’m signed up for this class, same as everyone else.” And with that, he went back to his seat.
She looked around, felt the awkwardness of the room. Her doing. She was an idiot. She did her best to shake it off, to completely ignore him. Pride dictated this. All the anger, hurt, confusion, and the hardest to take, betrayal, she’d shoved deep eight years ago and nothing could get to that. Nothing.
As she began to go through the curriculum with the class, she walked around the large art room, showing them the wide variety of equipment they had at their fingertips thanks to a recent grant. They had large monitors at twenty stations, but the 3D printer was her favorite, and she quickly sketched out some blocks, showing the students how they might use the printer as a part of an upcoming 3D project. She put letters on the blocks to spell B-I-T-E M-E, realized what she was doing and the scrambled the letters before hitting print.
But not in time apparently, because the blocks came out in perfect order. “Well,” she said. “It is a Monday, right?”
The class was cracking up and she took a discreet glance at Dylan.
He arched a brow.
She looked at the clock. Ten minutes had gone by. Forty more minutes to go.
When the bell finally rang and the students all began to exit the room, she turned away so she didn’t feel tempted to watch Dylan leave.
The ratfink bastard.
She busied herself putting her things back into her bag and checked on Leo. The little guy yawned so sweetly and smiled sleepily up at her, melting her heart. Scooping him up, she cuddled him to her, giving him a kiss on his snout. He smiled back and . . .
. . . Let loose with a warm stream. She felt it pool at her chest before dripping down her torso. Sucking in a breath, she pulled the pup away from her with a sigh.
He bicycled his little paws in the air, trying to get back to her, a smile on that deceptively adorable face.
“Okay,” she said. “I’m willing to concede that was entirely my fault. Let’s get you outside before this turns into a número dos situation.” She turned to go and came face to face with Dylan. “Dammit.”
He looked amused at her greeting. His gaze ran over her, caught onto the puppy, and he gave Tilly a small smile. “Cute,” he said, reaching out a hand to pet Leo.
Who bared his little teeth and gave a ferocious growl.
Okay, so it wasn’t ferocious, it was thin and wobbly, like he wasn’t quite sure how to growl, but he bared his teeth to show he meant it. Tilly was so stunned that she let out a startled laugh. Clearly she’d projected her feelings onto the pup. “Good boy,” she said. Shouldering her purse and grabbing the portfolio, she lifted her chin in the air and started to walk away.
“Not going to even say hi?” Dylan asked her back.
She had to close her eyes for a beat because of that voice. Once upon a time, that sexy, gruff voice could stop her in her tracks. She’d always known that, thanks to a tragically rough childhood, he had inner demons. But she’d always thought they’d fight them together.
He’d lied about that. He’d lied about a lot of things. “I have a different word for you,” she said. “It’s good-bye.” And with as much dignity as she could manage while dripping puppy pee down her shirt and pants legs, she did as he’d once done to her. Walked away.