Addicted (Dylan O'Brien)

Chapter 25

I finish my coffee while Dylan's upstairs changing after countless of suggestive remarks towards me. All including neither of us in clothing. Even if I want what he wants, I have work in about an hour and I didn't have time. Plus, even after what happened between him and I last night, I wasn't anywhere near ready to take it to the next level. Hell, I didn't even know what Dylan and I were.

"You know, we still have about a half hour if you want to take me up on any of my offers." he says walking down the stairs with a suggestive glint in those haunting eyes. The corner of his lips turn up in a sly smirk, and his hair was standing in all directions. He dressed in a blue flannel and dark wash jeans that made my imagination run wild.

I clear my throat and try to hide the fact my cheeks were beginning to blush from my unwholesome thoughts, "I told you I have to get ready for work, I don't have clothes with me." I explain, yet again.

Dylan rolls his eyes, "You could always wear what you have on."

"Um, I don't think Jeanie would approve of my entire stomach exposed." I look down at the crop top and ripped up jeans that Cher let me wear, leaving anything to the imagination was not possible in this outfit.

Looking at me over his shoulder, Dylan slowly checks me out making me feel exposed with just one simple look. His eyes darken and I can tell he's trying to restrain himself, "You'd probably make great tips." his voice dips low.

"I'm serving coffee and pastries, not lap dances and strip teases."

Dylan groans, "Keep talking like that and you'll never make it into work." my heart flutters nervously with, yet another, one of his suggestive comments.

"Since we're on the topic..." I proceed with caution following him to his jeep, "Where is Justin's shirt I had on last night?"

An invisible guard goes up around Dylan as his body goes ridged, "I have to give it back to him." I tell him climbing up into the passenger seat. I try to keep my voice calm, just from last night I know Dylan isn't one of Justin's biggest fan, especially when it comes to me being involved with Justin.

"You won't be giving anything to that prick." his says harshly, his hands gripping his keys tightly.

I can feel the distance growing between us, but I push further. "It's his shirt, I have to return it."

Dylan pops his neck starting his jeep, "He can buy another one." I can tell from the tone of his voice that he is annoyed that I even mentioned Justin.

"Dylan..." I say his name sternly, he glares at me before driving down his long dirt driveway. "I have to give it back. Where is it?"

"No, you don't." he speaks slowly and clearly, as if too put an end to our conversation. He's getting upset over a shirt, well Justin's shirt. After what I saw last night and how he's acting right now I know there is more history between these two then I realized.

"Where is it?" I keep the conversation going whether he likes it or not.

"God! You just don't know when to quit!" he raises his voice, his grip on the steering wheel tightens, his knuckles turning white from lose of circulation. With a quick glance my way, he lets out a steady breath, "I chucked it out the jeep window last night." he admits without an once of remorse in his words.

"What?" I gape at him, "You aren't serious! It was just a shirt!"

His hand collides angrily with the steering wheel causing me to startle back in my seat, "I don't fucking care! The only reason he gave you it was to have an excuse to see you again!" his voice booms in the small space of his jeep, "And if I can help it he'll never fucking lay his eyes on you again." his words hold a silent threat to them.