Dillan's POV

I leave the living room and head back up stairs, a glare set in my eyes as I make my way from Kane.

The stupid bastard is hell bent on making me hate him. The fact that he even asked about something so deep, so personal makes me want to go down there and slap his disturbingly sexy face and tell him to shut the fuck up.

Rationally I know it's only fair since U asked a fairly sensitive topic, but I don't want to go by logic at the moment.

I'm fine with being bitter for the moment.

I open his door and close it behind me, heading to the dresser on the side that holds my clothes folded neatly on it. As I get dressed, I begin to think about what he said. He told me that if I asked that question then we weren't just bed buddies anymore. Not just some booty call that became a habit.

What that means, I don't know, and I'm afraid to ask in case I get an answer that I don't want.

I can't afford any more strings or entanglements after what happened a few years back.

And yet.

And yet I find myself circling back to Kane and to his bed. He provides a warmth and comfort that I haven't felt in a long time. Which is what makes his so addictive. And dangerous. The closer we get, the more he'll learn and the more likely I'll get hurt. Which is why him figuring out about the car thing is irritating me so thoroughly. I can feel the irritation at the situation growing, even if I'm being a tad bit irrational.

If anything it adds a little spice to the conversation.

After I'm dressed, I take a moment to sit down, trying my best to calm down and not make dumb bitch decisions. But of course, my motivation for such choices comes walking into the room with a frown on his face.

"Hey, are you okay?" He asks me and I glower at him, not wanting him around right now. I've mastered the art of dealing with my feelings, or the unhealthy lack of them, by myself for a long time. I don't need help or a hug or any sympathy from anyone. Especially not a jock asshole that can't drive.

"I'm fine." I tell him, my attitude shining through, if only a little as he closed the door behind him, obviously with no intention on letting me be.

"Look, I'm sorry if I pushed you too far too fast. I know you said you wanted no strings. I didn't mean to offend you. I won't bring up the car thing again." He says and I can tell it's sincere, but the insecurities running through my blood make it seem like it was the most mocking apology I've ever heard.

Reason one hundred and fifty three on why I hate living in my own head.

"You didn't push too far. I'm fine. And there is no car thing." I argue my pride not working well with me at the moment. If Kane could just move his muscled ass out of the way, I would get going, get over it, come back ask suck his dick in apology.

But nooo, he wants to be in touch with his feelings.

"Oh, okay. I'm sorry, it's just that...." He starts with a frown, obviously confused by my words, but I hold steady even as he looks at me as if I'm loosing it. Which honestly, I probably am.

"I'm not fucking afraid of cars, Kane. I just don't like your driving." I tell him and he nods his head and rubs his hand on the back of his neck.

"Well if it helps, I could lend you some keys so that you can drive yourself to work. I don't like you walking by yourself." He tells me and I just look at him. I'm not quite sure whether that comment was supposed to be an insult or a compliment or merely a statement but it doesn't sit right with me.

"Find. Give me some keys. I'll be fine." I tell him, even as the lie burns in my throat. Maybe after some years, I'll finally be able to get behind a wheel without panicking. And I can show myself and this cocky asshole that I and not weak and that I am not afraid of anything. I haven't tried to get behind a wheel since about a month the accidents happened. After that It was over for me.

Kane looks at me for a minute, watching me with narrowed eyes as if waiting for me to say I'm sorry and that he's right and Ik not ready.

I guess he'll be waiting for a while.

With a hand gesture to lead the way, I get off of the bed and follow Lane down the stairs and towards his garage, the door leading to it in the kitchen. He takes his car keys off of the hook and place them in my hand though he doesn't let them go immediately.

"Dillan, you have nothing to prove." He says and I glare at him in annoyance.

"I know that." I tell him and he sighs before letting the keys go and stepping back towards the door, a few feet away from the car. I open the garage door with the button on the visor and slide into the car. I place my hands on the wheel and take a few deep breaths to calm myself.

I can do this.

I can do this.

I can do this.

~~~~~~~~~~~~
I don't quite understand people like this. Those who are too prideful to just take lover and acceptance and try to heal themselves. But I do understand anxiety and trauma and I would ever debunk someone's way of healing.

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