Dizzy

Chapter 7

~ Dylan ~

My brother is an ass.

First, he has me playing the part of some chump in a romantic comedy by declaring me one of his wedding planners. It pisses me off. He knows how I feel about the marriage, and now he wants me to play opposite the part of... whatever chick is playing in rom-coms these days. Oh, and of course he chose to spring it on me at the engagement dinner because he knew I couldn't freak out too much.

And second, he's been locked in the room with Lora for hours. Yep, he gets engaged and suddenly gets to play house and have his girl stay over. Guess where that leaves me? I get to be the one to go pick up my future sister-in-law who happens to be the angriest girl I've ever met. Or... at least she was last night. I have visions of her going home after the dinner sticking pins in her Derrick and Dylan voodoo dolls.

And it's all so he can get laid. What other reason would there be for me to pick Ziah up, bring her home, and then all of us to leave and go play wedding planner? My brother has been back a day, and he already doesn't feel like my brother anymore. It's like he's already forgotten about us and our pact.

I pull up in front of Ziah's house. After glancing at my cell, I toss it on the seat. I'm right on time, so I honk the horn and wait for her to come out. She's out the door about ten seconds later, scowl in place, but stops dead in her tracks about twenty feet from my Hummer.

I'm not going to roll down the window. I'm not going to roll down the window.

I roll down the window. "What?"

More scowling. "I'm not riding in that thing."

"What? Why?"

"It's ridiculous! It's—" She's gesturing and looks stunned or something.

"She's cool as hell. Get in the car, Hanes, or I'm leaving."

She humphs before crossing her arms and walking to the passenger's side. I watch as she climbs up and in. Her feet automatically come up, and she rests them on the dash.

"What are you doing? Why would you put your feet on Mary?" What's wrong with this girl? She's a nutcase.

"You named your car?" She rolls her eyes. "Of course you named your car."

But she puts her feet down, and I swipe my hand across the nonexistent foot-marks on the dash.

"What do you mean 'of course I named my car'?" Five seconds with this girl, and I'm already a million times more annoyed than I was before.

"Nothing."

She has her face practically plastered to the window so she doesn't have to look at me as I drive. I turn up the music, hoping it'll drown out her moodiness. Two can play at this game. Though for her, I'm pretty sure it's not a game, and she actually hates me. What did I ever do to her? Nothing. Girls are just crazy, and my brother is getting himself tied up in the craziness. He's screwed if Lora is as pissy as her sister.

I glance over at her. She's still looking out the window. She has her hair tied up in a ponytail thing, which would not be hot if it weren't for the one little strand of hair that fell down. The air from the heater makes it brush against her cheek, and something makes me want to reach out and slide the silky strands through my fingers before I tuck it behind her ear.

Apparently it's not girls who are crazy. It's me. There's seriously something wrong with me. We've gotten along all of about two seconds of the times we've seen each other, yet I'm fantasizing about playing with her hair? It's something Derrick would do with Lora.