It had been a few weeks since the whole massage incident, and things between Dylan and I settled back into our friendship. I'd given him a lot of thought over the time. It was getting harder and harder to not give into him. Especially when he kept up his little flirting act. It didn't mean anything, even when we were laying in bed just talking, but close enough that one of us could lean forward and kiss the other if they wanted to. Dylan was naturally flirty, and I ended it whenever it went to far, or whenever I felt that an oncoming kiss was eminent.
But it was the last thing I wanted to do.
That was terrible of me, wasn't it? To want someone so bad when I knew that that someone wasn't mine for the taking? I was at the point where I was convincing myself again that maybe the moles were coincidence, and his mark was hidden somewhere else. And it related to Britt. I mean, it would make sense, considering they've been together for so long. Why would they be together if their marks weren't for each other?
This meant that my mark could be for some other drummer. Or whatever. I didn't want to believe this because the connection I felt to Dylan was ethereal. But again, he wasn't mine. I needed to figure out if he could be, if he was meant to be.
"Hey, Dyl... Can I ask you a personal question?" I asked hesitantly, gnawing on the inside of my lip. Dylan slid a shirt over his head for his workout. The trainer was coming for the second time today. It was a month before Dylan had to go film American Assassin. I was sitting on his bed, making conversation with him while he got ready as I usually did.
"Yeah, what's up?" he answered, pulling a pair of rolled up socks from his drawer and grabbing his sneakers from his closet.
"Have you seen Britt's soulmate mark?" Dylan, who was bent over to slide his feet in his shoes, stopped and sat up to stare at me. It wasn't technically illegal to ask questions about someone else's soulmate mark, but it was a taboo subject, especially with someone who you didn't know very well. Kind of like discussing financial issues with children or showing up somewhere unannounced. You just don't do it.
I was hoping Dylan and I were close enough that it would be slightly less taboo. Dylan licked his lips, his eyes darting around as he bent back over to continue tying his shoes. "Yeah. What about it?"
I shrugged, suddenly worried on if I should continue or not. I decided I would, but I fiddled with the bed comforter, distracting myself. "I was just curious. You know, like what it is...how it relates to you."
He didn't look up as he rubbed his hand down the right side of his face. "That's actually pretty personal, Y/N/N."
"Okay, I'm sorry." I swept my thumb over my own mark before wrapping my hand around my wrist, concealing it like it was a sign of my most personal body parts.
"Is that where yours is?" I looked over to see Dylan's eyes hovering over where my hand was covering, and I instinctively clutched my wrist to my chest and nodded. His eyes followed my actions curiously, his eyes squinted with thought. "Alright. How about this?" Dylan finished tying his shoes and leaned with his elbows on his knees, watching me intently. "I'll tell you if you'll show me yours."
My immediate reaction was to recoil and protect my innocence, but my curiosity won over. "Okay. But you go first."
He nodded, taking a minute to compose his thoughts. "Alright. It's, uh, it's on her hip. In the shape of a baseball mitt." He stopped there, not explaining how it related to him. That was fine because I had long since been introduced to his obsession. It made sense that he would be her soulmate, but he couldn't be her soulmate and mine.
I was about to ask what he thought his mark was, but he was already questioning me. "Your turn. What's your mark?" Surprisingly enough, I hesitated to tell him. He walked a few steps toward me, his eyes never leaving mine except to flick down to my wrist still held to my chest.
