Addicted (Dylan O'Brien)

Chapter 26

Just as promised, Dylan was here to pick me up. Actually, he was fifteen minute early and parked right out front the cafe so that it was impossible for me to miss him. I bite my lip to refrain from smiling once I saw him, he hadn't looked for me but the simple fact that he was here for me made my heart go crazy and my stomach turn to butterflies.

I don't know what happens next, but that doesn't stop my mind from thinking up crazy stories between Dylan and I. As if my lips know how long it's been since they've tasted Dylan's they tingle and a dull ache forms in my chest. What is happening to me? It was like I've completely forgotten the jerk Dylan can be and have turned into a middle school girl with a crush.

Trying to become rational again fails when I clock out for the night and I walk outside greeted by Dylan waiting for me in his jeep.

"You were early." I say climbing into the seat I've become so familiar with the past few weeks.

"You just don't miss anything." he says in a mocking tone.

I can't tell if he's trying to be mean or not, but from the sarcastic tone in his voice he's trying to prove a point. "Are you always fifteen minutes early to pick people up?" I ask him choosing to ignore his comment.

"I'm a very punctual person. Plus, I had nothing else to do so I figured I'd just wait till you got out." he explains.

Something was off about him, he's here but he's not at the same time. "What did you do today?"

He looks over at me with a raised brow, "What's it too you?" there's a sly smirk on those lips of his.

I smile knowing all too well that he was challenging me. Seeing if he could push my buttons, "You could call me curious... or I'm just trying to make conversation." I shrug.

Dylan shakes his head trying to stifle his laughter, "You too curious for your own good."

He was right, I was always wanting to know things, always asking questions. Even when I was younger I would always ask questions, trying to wait patiently for the answer. Maybe that's why I find myself so drawn to Dylan himself, he was the greatest mystery. I was always asking him questions, but received very little in his answers. He seemed to always leave me on a cliff hanger, impatient for more. Maybe I am to curious for my own good.

"Then satisfy my curiosity." I say flirtatious, challenging him.

The smirk he had moments earlier fades, "You want to know too much." a look of distance appears in those dark eyes of his as worry curtains is face.

"I didn't realize wanting to know about you're day was such a bad thing." I say quietly.

I hated this feeling, of being so close to Dylan I could touch him, but he keeps me at a safe distance, hiding who he is from me. Like he can know me, know all about me, yet I'm kept in the darkness about his life only allowed to see what he chooses I see. I'm my own person, and yet Dylan is the one making my chooses. Seems like I always end up in this predicament. My father did it to me for years before I finally fought back only making more distance between him and I. Now here I am, someone else still choosing what I should know and what I shouldn't.

Dylan clears his throat, "I went in to work for a few hours." his voice surprises me. I want to ask what he does for work but I let him speak when he's ready. "Nothing special really." he shrugs.

A small grin creeps its way to my lips, sure it wasn't a lot but it was something. "I didn't know you work."

My statement earns me a side glance from Dylan, as if to mock me letting me know I'll never know everything about him. "There's a lot you don't know about me."