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Authors: Nicole Dykes

BOOK: Unsocial
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“Dylan,” Luke prompts.

I look at the three of them, and they are waiting for a decision
that will affect all of our lives, and I swear the weight of the question make
me feel dizzy. Or maybe that’s sunstroke. Anyway, the best I can come up with
is, “We better go in and wash up for supper.”
Such a coward.
But I can
justify it by saying we are still pretty new in the relationship.
But she
fits in this family like the most important piece.
Then there’s that.

The question of the night never really leaves my mind. I know I
need to talk to Brooke. There’s no way this can be considered an open-book policy
relationship if I’m keeping something like this locked up inside.

After dinner, we set around the picnic table with board games
until once again bedtime calls.  Brooke and I undress and climb in, and she
immediately fits herself against me, and just as naturally I wrap my body
around her smaller one.
The most important piece.

Like she senses something is off with me, “What’s wrong, you’re so
quiet.”

“I want to make love to you,” I whisper.

"Do you think the kids will hear?”

I have no idea why she’s worried considering we’ve had sex many
times with the kids in the same house.  But I want to take her somewhere
special. I also want to talk to her about what’s bothering me. I sit up and
grab my t-shirt off the floor, “Put this on and follow me.”

I slip my shorts on and take her hand to lead her across the deck
and to the beach.  We follow it along until I find a trail I discovered when I
was 15 when a girl I met on the lake showed it to me.  It leads to a small pool
that’s fed by the lake but nestled in trees and completely hidden.

The moon is only half full, so I lead her carefully over the path
and through the trees.  There’s just enough moonlight to light our way through
the trees and the pool.

Brooke laughs, "What are we doing?"

"Going swimming, you coming?"

I stop beside the pool and strip my shorts. When I look over at
Brooke, she’s still standing there still and licking her lips like she needs a
tall glass of cold water.
That would be me, folks.
Brooke puts a hand on
her hip, "Dylan Monroe, you are crazy we aren't kids anymore. We are
responsible adults."

I laugh, her tone is half kidding, and I know the adrenaline
junkie inside of her is dying to go skinny dipping with me in a public place.
"Brooke, take your clothes off and run in with me, or go in fully clothed
with me carrying your ass in, your choice."

She bites her lip like she's thinking it over and quickly whips
her shirt off over her head. We run into the water together. Brooke squeals
when her naked body hits the water, it's still a little early in the summer, so
the water is still cool. The water is only waist deep leaving her glorious
breasts naked and gleaming where the moonbeams shine down on her wet body.

We let our bodies savor the feel of touching before our primal
instincts take over, and there’s nothing left but the urge to invade her body
as deep as I can.  To mark her. To own her. To show her I love her in the most
basic way I can, no words necessary to send this message.

I slip my hands and lips through the long tresses of her hair,
across her beautiful face, to the sensitive spots along her neck that always
cause her to shudder with pleasure.  I’ve learned every single one of the secret
places on her body that drive her wild.

At my back, her petite fingers tattoo designs on my spine and
shoulders, then back to my ass where she uses all her strength to draw me
closer, not that she could, but even for her, our bodies can never be close
enough. I follow the line of her spine with impatient hands eager to touch her
glorious ass. My torso absorbs the trembling of her small body. Finally
gripping her thighs I use the aid of the water to lift her enough to slide into
the hot, wet depths of my very own personal heaven.  We immediately begin a
slow rhythm of rocking bodies that carry us to orgasms that shatter us, and
we’re both left gasping for air and strength enough to break the deep
connection of our bodies though neither of us wants that.

After sharing more some more tender kisses and touches, we finally
emerge and dress so we can return to our bed.  Tomorrow is another big day on
vacation with our family. I have to question all these small thoughts and
wonder, can I promise Brooke marriage?

The next day Alex arrives, and we spend another day on the lake
laughing, playing, and soaking up the sun. Brooke again chooses to cook in her
“sexy kitchen” and I take the time to gather the brood and make sure everything
is going to be perfect for Brooke’s birthday tomorrow.  And thanks to my
dickhead brother, I’m already thinking about how I’m going to top this surprise
next year.
No pressure.

 

The next morning I slip out of bed, carefully so I won’t wake
Brooke. When I open the door to the bedroom, Gabby is already standing there
with a blindfold in hand.  Cassie is in the kitchen quietly cutting up fruit
with a recipe for almond pancakes.  Don’t ask. They’re good and Brooke’s
favorite. Enough said.  Alex and the boys are hanging the banner I had made
that the kids all designed for her.  Everything is looking perfect so far.  And
my baby sister is standing attentively at the door listening for any sign of
life on the other side.  Finally Jax shows. Brooke has no idea that he is going
to be here, but he’s the one responsible for her big surprise present, which
she’ll get after she opens all the other presents over breakfast.  After
breakfast is on the table and places are set, I finally give Gabby the signal
to go in and wake her.

I stand just inside and watch her.  She supposed to ease on the
bed and not scare the shit of my sleeping beauty, but obviously she’s too
excited to follow that plan. “Brooke! Wake up! Happy birthday!"

Brooke stirs awake with a big grin on her face, "Good
morning, Gabby. Thank you,”

Gabby gives her a big hug and bounces off the bed, "Come
on!" Then she looks over at me and remembers what she’s supposed to do.
“Oh, wait.  I got to put this on you.” I’ve shown her a dozen times how to tie
the blindfold.  Finally secure she helps Brooke stand. Thank God, I had her
slip on one of my shirts before we fell asleep. Carefully she’s led through the
great room to the table where everyone is sitting.  I sneak behind and give her
a chaste kiss before easing the blindfold off.

“Happy Birthday.”

Brooke laughs again and blows out the 25 candles decorating the
pancakes we’re about to eat.

As soon as we’re through eating the kids clear away the aftermath
that was our breakfast.  She’s been giving Jax shit because he’s been trying to
convince her that he’s her birthday present, and that’s why he didn’t show up
until today. 
What a jackass.

After getting dressed Brooke gets to open her presents. Jax’s gift
causes a curious look, but a grateful thank you nonetheless, from Brooke and
snickers and giggle from the rest of us.  I think the blue fuzzy dice leave her
speechless.  Luke’s gift also stumps her, and still she’s gracious in her
acceptance, but I know she’s wondering what she’s a fuzzy steering wheel cover
that matches her dice. Honestly, I can’t believe how well everyone’s doing not
to roll on the floor laughing at her totally confused face.  More gifts
following a singular theme are opened.  A beaded seat cover that’s supposed to
be oh so comfortable for those long drives.  Michael, with the help of Jax, got
her car mats with the roadrunner on them.

Now I can’t take it anymore.  I don’t know if it’s to put me out
of my misery or her misery, but I have to move things along.  Alex and Cassie
clear away all the paper while Brooke once again thanks everyone for her gifts,
so beautiful and graciously it makes my heart hurt. Time for the main event. 
Four cell phones come out when I lead her to the front door to have her help me
“get something” from my truck.

And then she sees it, and I know for certain that people on the
Lake of the Ozarks are picking up phones to call 911 because of the ungodly
shriek that disturbed the quiet of the morning. She turns back to us with her
jaw on the floor, and rips the air again, I turn my head sideways and notice
the rest of the audience cringing and covering their ears,
because goddamn
that noise hurts.
Now if I were a man that planned everything to a T, I
would have made sure we
all
had ear plugs for this.

When we all look back to her after regaining the equilibrium she
knocked out of us, we notice her running toward the big red bow, and then she
damn near flings herself on the hood of the Roadrunner. She finally pulls
herself off and turns to me. “The Roadrunner?”

I laugh, "It was always meant for you, babe, even when I
couldn't admit it."

She squeals, again, and if you listen closely, I’m sure dogs in
the next county are answering. She turns back and lays her body right over the
very spot I fucked her for the first time and gives me that sweet, sexy smile
followed immediately by biting her lip. 
Oh, the evil, evil temptress.

After she peels herself away from our spot on the hood, she
finally climbs in to explore the custom finish of her dream car.  “Oh, shit.  This
is why I got all those odd gifts,”

Everyone chuckles and continues their exploring.  Gabby and Cassie
disappear back in the house and reappear with all the curious gifts so they can
finish kitting out Brooke’s new, old car.  The way she’s eye fucking and
rubbing all over the interior I’m wondering if I’m going to be sleeping alone
tonight, hell every night for that matter.

Eventually,
we do drag her away from
the car after she zips down the road circling the lake.  Every time she passes
the house she honks at us while we sit on the porch and wave. The third time
around, we just give a nod. I decided that might be better than encouraging her
to continue with excited waves. 

We finally load up and catch the Independence Day parade in town
and scarf hot dogs from food vendors on Main Street.  Before the sun fades, we
head back home to relax on our beach and watch the fireworks shot from the
center of the lake.

After the show, everyone heads back to the house, but I lead
Brooke to the boat and climb in.  After a little manipulation of the front seats,
I create a small bed of cushions to rest against.

“This has been a crazy year hasn’t it?”

I think about her question for a moment, and then answer honestly,
"Best year of my life.” I decide to steer the conversation to get some
questions of my own answered. “Are you happy with us, Brooke?”

“Of course, Dylan.  You know I am. You have to know how much I
love you and the kids.”

“I know you do. I’m just worried that someday you’re going to wake
up and see what an ass you’ve fallen in love with or that I’m going to fuck up
in some way. It scares the shit out of me because I don’t see a future without
you in it, and I need to figure out how to make you happy every damn day so that
you want to stay in our lives.”

"Crazy man, you don’t have to drive yourself crazy to keep me
happy.”

“And what if I fuck up?”

She leans in and kisses me then whispers the words across my lips,
“I won’t let you.”

“Can you just be patient with me until I can figure it out and not
give up on me?”

She holds my gaze and promises with all sincerity, “I’ll never
fail you.”

I take a moment to let her promise sink in and soothe my worries. How
she has so much patience and understanding, I will never know, but I do trust
her completely. It’s at that moment that I recognize an undeniable truth.

I know that I will never walk in this life without Brooke by my
side. We will lean on each other through
everything
and because of that
we can get through
anything
.

Epilogue

Dylan

Welcome to New Year’s Eve 2016.  I’m glad you’re hanging around
for an update on what’s going on in my life over the last year and a half. 
Brooke and I are going strong, like bunnies, every day.  Okay, sorry about
that.  Everyone is great. You could say Brooke has become a permanent fixture
in our lives, and no, we still aren’t married. I am, however, proud to say,
though it’s wrong in so many judgmental eyes, we have joined the unsocial
graces of living in sin. We talked about it when it got to the point Gabby
would cry to manipulate her into staying if she planned on going to her
apartment for a night. The others, including me, would pout. So following a
serious
adult conversation, she moved in.

Now, I’m sure everyone wants the answer to the million-dollar
question. You know, how did Brooke’s coworkers take the news about us? Well,
that had to do with a little Monroe charm, my sexiest grin, and a dozen roses
when I went to pick up my girl for lunch one day. Brooke only received nine of
the roses that day since I had to give my best impression that first time. But
don’t you worry, I make sure she gets all of them now. Anyway, long story
short, there was no drama surrounding mine and Brooke’s love life. I know this
because why else would the lovely ladies leave bridal magazines on her desk?

We’re half way through a new school year.  As you know, Luke is a
senior. He’s still in the ‘I might and I might not’ limbo of deciding if
college is what he wants.  He’s got plenty of options whatever he decides to
do.  A part of him has always dreamed of playing college ball, and KSU is
hungry for him.  He’s also received letters from Oklahoma, Alabama, and LSU. I
won’t be surprised at all if he gets others before he has to sign a letter of
intent next month. But again, he’s also got the option of working at the shop
with us.

Cassie is still cheering and believe it or not still with Austin.
Surprisingly we still like him. He treats Cassie like a queen, and really
that’s all we can ask.  And for a high school kid, he’s the most respectful
little shit you could meet. His parents have had us over a couple of times for
dinner, which reminds me I need to talk to Brooke about finally returning the
favor. Oh, and they’re here tonight joining us for the celebration.

Gabby is in second grade and an absolute Brooke cling-on. Kind of
sad when you think about it, a grown-ass man having to compete with his
7-year-old sister for attention from his girlfriend. She’s now trying to
replace me in the kitchen when it comes to cooking dinner and breakfasts on the
weekends.  I thought for sure it would be Cassie in there with her, but she’s
too far up Austin’s ass to be bothered with something like cooking.  Brooke
finally had to put a moratorium on phones at the dinner table.

Michael is halfway through his first year of junior high, and
guess what’s new in his world? A girlfriend. My baby brother over the last six
months discovered some food, drink, or whatever the hell that made him shoot up
four inches and build a little muscle mass. Don’t think I didn’t search his
room for steroids. Girls started looking; and all of a sudden the quiet,
handsome nerd gig he has going is serving him well. With all the phone numbers
he was coming home with, Brooke was able to form his very own cheerleading
squad for this year’s spelling bee, and sadly, t-shirts along with pom-poms were
involved.  Luke tried like hell to get out of going, but Brooke wasn’t having
that.

The whole family, Jax and Alex included, had to be there in full
uniform, which meant we had to wear t-shirts too. I was smart enough to lose my
pom-pom in the parking lot. Someone probably found it beside the little Mazda parked
beside us.  I would say ‘those were some fun times” but when you have to set
through a spelling bee with your girlfriend leading your brother’s very own
cheering section, the word
fun
doesn’t even belong in the conversation.
It’s just unfortunate that none of us have the balls or the desire to tell
Brooke no or hurt her feelings, and this leads to a lot of ‘grinning and
bearing it.”

Now Jackson just grins and encourages the madness. I have to shake
my head at the lengths the jerk goes to get me to kick his ass.  Every fucking
week it seems he and Brooke are up to something that’s bound to drive me out of
my damn mind.  Brooke asked me to help her paint our bedroom
sanctuary
purple, okay lavender or some shit, but yeah, I pulled the plug on that before
she even finished the request. Some things a man will not do and one of those
high on the list is sleep in a purp….lavender….bedroom.  I gave in and let her
pick out new shit covering our bed that has some goddamn flowers, but I stopped
there. Well until she put some stuff that makes it smell like a garden. I had
to stop there. That’s because I
may have been
too tired to bother
bitching about the hand towels that are
for show only
now hanging in our
spa-like
bathroom. Oh, I guess you probably figured out how my
former
best friend and girlfriend like to drive me crazy.  In that particular
instance, the traitorous motherfucker helped her paint the bedroom freaking
purp….
lavender
. I haven’t forgiven them for that little stunt yet, and
until my walls go back to the nice manly tan they were, I’m holding onto that
grudge.  No way should a dude have to walk into his bedroom and then check to
see if he still has balls.

Now Alex, Brooke’s best friend, or maybe I should say Cassie’s
best friend, has put herself solely in charge of purchasing my one-way ticket
to the nut house.  In short, she is corrupting my sweet little sister.  You be
the judge; shopping trip,
my
credit card, 400-dollar Victoria Secret
charge.  Then there’s the fact that she’s Jax and Brooke’s strongest supporter.
I know this for certain because I caught her buying the yellow paint for their
next project. And I’m pretty sure it’s going to be the kitchen. I’ve come to
the decision that I’m just going to choose my battles, and that battle is my
gym.

That pretty much catches you up on the last six months.  I don’t
give a fuck how nuts my family makes me. Every day with them there is something
new, and all the crazy shit just makes
them
worth waking up to.

Oh, shit. The DJ I hired stopped the music.  Hey, don’t go
anywhere, you’ll want to stick around for this. Right now, I’ve got to track
down my girl because I haven’t danced with her all night. Ah, there she is,
right beside the dance floor.

“Good evening, everyone.  We hope you’re all having a good time
tonight.  Right now, I’m going to play a special request.”

You’re gonna love this song.
I’m
going to go ahead and give the DJ the signal while I grab Brooke.

“Dance with me.” Her smile is so perfect when she looks up at me
and lets me lead her to the center of the floor. Our hands instinctively move
to their usual anchors. Me holding her tightly with my left arm firmly around
her small waist while tucking my right hand just inside my front pocket. And as
always she slides her right hand up bringing my face closer to hers. The
fingers of her left hand hooking securely to my front belt loop to keep our
bodies flush. Then we’re swaying before the first words of SafetySuit’s
Never
Stop
, the wedding version mind you, starts playing.

Now, y
ou have to admit, this
song says it all when you want the girl you love to know, she is and will
always be everything to you. I think it’s a perfect way to celebrate the
anniversary of our one-night stand that so easily turned into to all of
this.

“I love this song, Dylan.”
What did I tell you?
If she
hadn’t said it, I would know by her contented sigh. And would you look at those
dreamy eyes.
Good God
, she looks so good and feels so fucking perfect in
my arms.

“I love you, Brooke.  Always.” Returning those words never gets
old. Her eyes always light up whenever I say them, and that’s why I say it to
her all the time.

Holy hell
, I feel about a
hundred sets of eyes, all on us right now, that makes me just a little nervous.
“Everyone is watching us, babe,” I tell her softly.

“That’s because we’re so perfect together, honey,” she whispers
back.

Okay, then, I’m just going to block them out and concentrate on
dancing with my girl.

Oh, boy, here we go, the song is almost over, and it’s time to man
up. Now, I’ve practiced this a hundred times, and I cannot mess it up. First, I
just need to pry her fingers out of my belt loop, find her….ah ha, what do you
know, it’s a perfect fit.

And she says yes, not with words, just a soft nod of her head next
to my cheek.

Now, just so you know, as soon as the last notes of this song
fade, I’m holding up Brooke’s left hand and proudly pointing out the two-carat
diamond I just slid on my brand-new fiancé’s finger.

Hell, yeah, that’s how I make a statement.

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