I stare at the stupid winking emoji. Guilt and exhilaration twist in my gut.
Crap.
I’m in deep dolphin shit.
Chapter 12: The Point of No Return
Jenna: October
No way. Not again. How the hell do I manage to lock my keys in the car not once, but twice in one year? Aren’t cars supposed to beep or refuse to lock when the keys are still inside? Maybe mine missed the memo—like my brain isn’t brain-ing anymore. Or maybe it’s juggling a never-ending list… planning dinner three hundred sixty-five days a year, keeping up with the girls' dance lessons, school activities, and surviving the endless cries of “Mommy!” and mountains of laundry. All while managing a full-time career.
I start digging through my purse for my phone to call a tow truck when a hand lands on my shoulder. I spin around to find Dylan standing there, amused by my struggles in the parking lot.
“So, we meet here again,” he says, with an infuriating grin as he rests against his truck and not his usual motorcycle. “What’s thinking for you today—your body or your mind?
I groan, covering my face. “You’re not going to drop that, are you? You’ve probably been waiting all day for this.”
His laugh is warm, the kind that makes you forget how annoyed you are. “Who, me? Never. But I am curious—are we still taking over the world naked, or was that a one-time offer?” he says, holding out a paper cup. “Sweet tea. No spills this time, alright?”
I snort, shaking my head. “Thank you,” I say, grabbing the drink. “For the record, anything said under the influence of a gummy bear cannot be held against me. But by all means, please keep making fun of me. Call me jinxed, careless, a walking disaster.” My tone is more frustrated than intended, but it’s been one of those mornings. Another argument with Jacob, him working late again. Now this. What’s next? Get fired? Break a leg? Bring it on.
He crosses his arms, smirking like he’s settling in for the show. “I’d rather call you clumsy and cute. And maybe the universe wants me to keep helping you… Or you had a little too much candy last night.”
My face flushes, and I turn back to the car, looking for my phone through the window. I glance around, my pulse spiking at the thought of someone watching us. Like I’m here making out with Dylan, ripping his shirt off in the parking lot, when all I’m doing is talking. Totally normal.
But seriously, he can’t keep flirting with me. “I don’t need help, and this is not cute,” I snap, but my words lack heat. I spot my phone sitting on the driver’s seat, right next to my keys. Just my luck. Guess the car finally gave up trying to warn me before I make another mess.
Dylan doesn’t say a word, but his silence speaks volumes. He’s waiting, arms still crossed, until I admit I need him. I sigh and hold out a hand.
“Okay… maybe I need to borrow your phone.”
He passes it to me without hesitation, holding on a second longer than necessary. I focus on the screen, ignoring the sparks crawling through my body. His screensaver flashes—a German Shepherd and an adorable small mixed breed curled up onhisbed. My heart melts before I push the thought away.
“Keep it until the truck comes,” he says casually, already stepping back. “My guys are waiting for me to start working. Password is one, two, six, seven.”
I blink, startled by the gesture. “You’re leaving me your passcode and your phone? Don’t you have… secrets hiding in here or dirt that might get you arrested or something?”
He leans in, his voice low. “And what exactly do you think I’d get arrested for?”
“Oh, who knows…” I say, trying to keep a straight face. “Indecent exposure. Disturbing the peace with your snarky comments. Accomplice to murdering banana dolphins, perhaps,” I tease, fidgeting with my purse straps. My restless hands itching to touch him.
A laugh bursts out of him, unfiltered and completely adorable. “Only one way to find out. Just don’t scroll through my photos from last week, and all my secrets should be safe.” He winks, turning to leave. Then pauses. “And what about you? What wouldyoube arrested for… Stealing hearts?”
I freeze, his words catching me off guard. “I’m not sure I ordered cheese with my omelet this morning, but I’ll let that one slide. Only this time.” I fight the smile threatening to take over my face.
He chuckles and walks away without looking back.
Twenty-five minutes later, two phone calls and a lot of pacing back and forth, the tow truck finally arrives. The driver takes one look at the car and has the door open in seconds.
I glance at Dylan’s phone in my hand, my fingers hesitating, before curiosity wins. He practically handed me an invitation into his life, and I can’t resist stepping through. You can learn a lot about someone from their phone. Hopefully, I find something terrible.
His speed dial lists his sister and mom. Cute. He never checks his emails, and a guy named John texted him something cryptic. Nothing too scandalous. But then I break the one rule he gave me and open his photo gallery.
It’s mostly family photos, work stuff, and—oh hell no.
Him standing next to half-naked women dressed as a nurse, a devil, and a sexy cat. How original. But it’s not them that draws my attention. No, it’s Dylan, smiling like he owns the world. Everything about him screams sexy and sweet, and infuriating.
And the best part? He’s dressed head-to-toe in a giant banana costume, like the world’s goofiest heartthrob. And somehow, he still looks good. Really freaking good. I laugh so hard I nearly drop the phone. I think my favorite fruit just became even more delicious.
