From the Inside Out: The Compilation (Scorned, Jealousy, Dylan, Austin) by S. L. Scott Page B

I yell over my shoulder.
    He doesn’t… and when he doesn’t I start questioning his motives, sincerity, everything he’s been trying to tell me. His words are hard to believe when his actions mean the opposite. I stop on the corner and look back. He still stands there watching me. I throw my arms in the air and scream not caring that it’s still early in the morning. “What? What do you want, Dylan?”
    He runs as if I called him to me. I didn’t. I just want answers, but he seems to want answers to questions we don’t even have yet. Confusing. And fucked up. He’s messing with my mind, too. I wonder if he realizes or if he’s doing it on purpose. He grabs my wrists as if we know each other these days. His thumbs graze over the underside of my wrists, my lifeline pulsing beneath his touch. I want to pull away, but I can’t. I like his touch too much.
    “What do you want from me?” I whisper scared to see what he’s feeling but dare to look into his eyes anyway.
    He doesn’t waste the opportunity. “I want us to start over.”
    “Start what over?” My tone is harsh, incredulous.
    “Friends. We can start as friends.”
    Glancing to the street, then back, I state, “We were never friends, Dylan.”
    “We were. You were my best friend, Jules.”
    The tears start coming, building in my chest, and seeping into my eyes. “You were my best friend too,” I admit, weakened by the moment, by the feel of his skin on mine.
    Tears fall between us. When I look down, I attempt to close my eyes before another falls, but one falls too quick. But that one isn’t mine. It’s his.
    I look up, needing to see that he feels something, that maybe I meant something to him or even mean something now. Maybe I’m beyond repair, my emotions permanently damaged, but when I look up, I don’t see the person I hated for years. I see the person I once knew standing before me, caressing my wrists and my heart starts to race, so I drop a confession of my own, “I have a boyfriend, Dylan.”
    My wrists are dropped. The last of his tears are wiped away onto the back of his sleeve. “Since when?”
    After wiping away my own weakness, I stand strong once again, my heart and emotions closed off just as fast as his. “Since none of your business.”
    “You’re impossible, Juliette !” His voice and words sickened with hate as he uses my full name.
    I strike back not willing to let him hurt me again. “I hate you, Dylan. I hate you so much.” Anger causes tears to fill my eyes again and my face heats.
    “You’re so far removed from the person you once were that I don’t even recognize you anymore,” he says, “you’ve lost your soul—”
    “I didn’t lose it! You stole it just like everything else you stole from me. You took it with you that day. And if I’m such a horrible person, then why do you keep coming around? I mean, who does that? Who keeps going where they’re unwanted? It’s insane.”
    “Call me what you want, but at least I feel.”
    “Fuck you.”
    “No, Juliette, fuck you.” He turns his back and leaves.
    I scream in fury at the frustrating man. “You’re a bastard, Dylan Somers.”
    He laughs. “Yes, baby. You’re not telling me anything I don’t know already.”
    “Don’t you ever call me baby again and stop calling me Juliette! You have no right—”
    He’s suddenly in front of me, towering over me. “I have rights. I used to make love to you. I have a lot of fucking rights that come along with that.”
    “No, you don—”
    He grabs me and kisses me. Hard on the lips. Holding my face between his hands, so I can’t escape. The kiss is a surprise, but the feelings we’re sharing so familiar… and wanted… welcomed. Then I remember Austin. Dylan is not him. Dylan is not mine to kiss any longer. I shove him on the chest, our lips separating from the abrupt interruption.
    My arm flies through the air, but is caught before my hand makes contact with his cheek.
    Toe-to-toe, his eyes narrow on