Dylan grins. “Finals, here we come. You should be proud.”
I nod, blinking back emotion.If only our parents were here to watch their brave baby dragon fight her demons.“I am.”
He shifts beside me, like he’s debating something. Finally, he clears his throat. “So… about that second date.”
I glance at him, surprised. “Are we pretending last night can be called a first date?”
He smirks. “If you want to talk about last night, then let’s call it a date, but also accept we deserve a do-over. I mean, I never got the chance to officially apply for ‘Next Ex-Boyfriend’ status, so maybe we should start there. Would you like to go out on a date with me, to explore whether I am worthy to call myself your Next Ex-Boyfriend?”
A warmth spreads through me as I put pieces of our relationship-not-a-relationship together. Dylan has met Sage, knows we have no other family, and still wants to date me. Yes, there is still the non-fraternization complication, but knowing Sage and Saxon are friends, we can use them as our shield. “When?”
“I should have thought this through … I can’t go out tonight. Saxon’s staying over.” He rubs the back of his neck, and something in his expression shifts. “Don’t get me wrong, I want to have a do-over date with you, but Saxon … I can’t and won’t go back on a promise to spend time with him.”
“I get it, I’m like that with Sage.” When he smiles in understanding, I feel an enormous weight lift—he gets it. Fears that Dylan wouldn’t understand my need to put Sage first fade. Sure, he doesn’t understand her trauma, but Dylan understands prioritizing family.
“We’ve got a game on Sunday. How about after pre-game day training on Saturday?”
I nod as Sage looks up and finds us. I blow her embarrassing air kisses and wave until she gives me her classicI can’t believe you used to be cooleye-roll with accompanying head shake and back turn. If I was grading, Sage would get a full ten out of ten for bratty attitude, and I’m here for it.
“I’d like that.” And just like that, we have a date. A real one.
Of all the variations of you, which is closest to your heart? #13271
Dylan’s next swan greets me when I drop into the training facility to use the free gym.
Being my sister’s cheerleader. Nyx
I leave the note before my workout, only to discover his response two hours later when I’ve finished and showered.
What gives you the strength to go on when everything in you says to give up? #13271
Luckily, I keep a stash of black dragons for a quick response.
Faith. Hope. Love. Nyx
Over the rest of the week, we exchange notes at least daily. Some are cutesy, others ask and answer probing questions. It’s our way of getting to know each other and finding out if a relationship is worth the risk. I’m becoming almost arrogantly confident in how we are hiding our relationship from the world. Swans and dragons are exchanged at will. I don’t know how Dylan arranges the exchange without being caught, but it’s working. I’ve even rehearsed what to say if we’re caught, “my sister is friends with his brother—are you telling me my sister can’t have friends?” Or, “Our siblings are on the same swim team and since we work together, it makes training pickups easier.” Or even, “he gives me advice on how to parent my twelve-year-old sister.”
See?
Nothing can go wrong. Whether they are full or partial truths, I have an excuse for any situation, and it’s only a couple of months until the end of the rugby league season. Yes, the media is speculating about whoAustralia’s Favorite Bacheloris dating. Yes, every day has photos of him jogging along the pier, buying coffee or … shockingly … purchasing enough steak and salad to feed two people! Talk about creating content out of nothing. Luckily, the media haven’t realized or don’t care that Person #2 is Saxon, who’s stayed with Dylan for the past week.
Look who’s looking good? Sexy-as-you-know-what Southern Mavericks’ footballer, Dylan Fleski, has our hearts all a fluttering in his workout gear. Who needs a shirt to hide those abs, right ladies? But as publicity around Australia’s Favorite Bachelor heats up, I feel it is timeto sort out the wannabees from the willneverbees. That’s right, ladies, which of you are worthy of taking Dylan Fleski off the market? Over the week, I’ll countdown my top ten. Don’t be shy. Who should have made the list, and who should never make any list?
BeeLeeve Me, Distorted Facts
I need to do something about my Mavericks notifications. I do not need to wake up to daily lists of women handpicked by BeeLeeve Me from gossip blogDistorted Factsto takeAustralia’s Favorite Bacheloroff the market. Spoiler alert—I’m not in the top ten. I’m not in the top thousand women any social media blog would match with a footballer.
It hurts to see women identified and discussed as if they are cattle being offered at auction. Not only as a woman who prefers to be known for my athletic dancing ability instead of the way my bust fills out the uniform, but because they are discussingmyDylan. Blondes, brunettes, long or short hair, aged from twenty to thirty, BeeLeeve Me is almost brutal with the reasons why each woman should be the one tucking Dylan into bed each night.
The cynical part of me assumes publicists were involved in promoting their client to theDistorted Factspodcast and blog. The green-eyed monster in me wants to demand Dylan put out a public statement, renouncing his title asAustralia’s Favorite Bachelorbecause he is already off the market.
Instead, I spend my waking hours studying on one couch while Sage pretends to study on the other, and try to focus on passing this semester’s units. Because at the end of the day, my contract is iron-clad and the penalty is clear.
Dylan Fleski is a forbidden fruit.But, damn, he tastes good.
Finally, it’s date day.
After catching a train to Hornsby, I follow Dylan’s directions until I see his parked car a block away from the crowded area. I can’t wait for him to prove that BeeLeeve Me is just another gossip troll looking to generate buzz for their podcast without any semblance to facts.
