Sick Like Me (Sick Like #1)

Chapter 25

TWENTY-FIVE

I failed to seek him out, no matter how hard I looked for him.

I thought finding Dakota Vernon in a crowded night club would be easy, since he was so tall and his eyes stood out against all other eye colours I had ever seen before. But I had the sense he wanted to hide from me, and if he didn’t want to be found, then I would have no chance of finding him.

I wanted to get off the dance floor, go in search of my friends, but the crowds of dancing people bumping into me only got worse. I felt like my skin was itching, my mind racing with a million thoughts.

Surely he wouldn’t have actually come to the club, right? I had sent a joking photo, which if he looked hard enough he would see the man was nowhere near me. He also had next to no chance of knowing where I was, unless he had visited any of the Club Temptation properties before.

Club Temptation was famed for it’s purple neon lights everywhere, and the black tiles lining every wall in the dance section. It was considered a ‘high class’ establishment, but anyone could get in for a decent enough price. It was the foreign destinations that had much stricter entrance rules—Stefan had once told me upon his return from his holiday to Gran Canaria.

With all the dancing bodies being so packed together, surrounding me in almost every direction, it made me feel like I was drowning at sea and I couldn’t quite reach the buoy no matter how fast or hard I swam.

Why the fuck did I think it was a good idea to go to Club fucking Temptation on a fucking Saturday night? Clearly, everyone else had the same idea of going there. It was a famous location after all, so I have no clue what I suspected would have happened.

I felt my throat turn dry, and I felt as if I couldn’t suck enough oxygen into my lungs. The music turned into threats of tinnitus, and the room felt hot and stuffy, suffocatingly so. I wanted—no, had— to get out of there.

Just as I went to make my way to our table, strong and warm hands snaked their way around my waist from behind, and a muscular chest brushed up against my back. I closed my eyes, the scent of spice, wood and lavender filled my senses like a toxic fume.

I was a fucking goner.

All my suspicions were true. My Dakota Vernon radar was surprisingly very sensitive, or maybe my subconscious felt threatened by eyes being locked in on me for God knows how long.

I felt like prey, being stalked by the predator.

I wanted to turn in his arms, to check out his forest green eyes and seek out what he was feeling. Had I really pissed him off enough he would trek his way to the centre of Hadley just to seek me out in the middle of a stupid fucking night club?

I wondered if I had disturbed his meeting with that woman, the one he swore wasn’t a girlfriend and that he had no romantic feelings for. He wasn’t mine, and I wasn’t his, so whatever he did with whoever should have meant nothing to me .

But deep down I was his. He may not had wanted me, but it was a secret I held deep inside my chest where my heart ached for his attention. A part of me felt like he knew I was devoted to him in some kind of way, that I was ready to sell myself to be his, but neither of us ever spoke on the matter.

Apparently he was the kind of man who would hunt me down if I annoyed him just the right amount, my brain cursed me as his body began to move to the music which made my own sway in time with his. I closed my eyes, shamelessly basking in the feeling of him against me.

He was on a date with another woman not but a few hours earlier, you stupid bitch. Get the fuck away from him! My mind tried to remind me that I was meant to be mad at him, but did I ever listen to her? Apparently not.

I felt movement from behind me, then a brush of hot air fanned my neck before a voice spoke into my ear, “I found you.”

“How did you find me?” I asked, daring to turn my head just enough so I didn’t have to shout too loud, but still not enough so I could get a peak of his face past more than just his beard—which looked more like a three day old stubble. He must had shaved a few days prior, I noted.

“I have my ways,” He spoke with a sultry tone, and I could see the evil grin just touching his lips. A part of me wanted to dig more into that, figure out what he meant by that. But I restrained myself from asking further questions into his ‘ways’, partially scared of the response that may have come after.

“Are you stalking me?” I joked, not expecting an answer from him.

His hands gripped my hips ever so slightly tighter, his chin coming to rest on my shoulder. His cheek brushed against my ear, and I swore that if I listened hard enough, I could hear his heartbeat from his neck in a steady yet loud rhythm.

“Are you not stalking me?” He asked, and I felt lips brush my cheek which revealed he was pouting. He sounded partially disheartened by the words leaving his lips, but before I could inquire further, his body felt as if it had been seemingly ripped from me as the air of the room rushed back in and caused a shiver to run up my spine once again.

I turned around to find Stefan, stood just a few inches shorter than Kota, with his fist full of the luxe looking black polo shirt the taller man wore.

Kota held his hands up to show he was no threat, to show he was signalling a sign of peace. I rushed over to my best friend and wrapped my fingers around his arm, tugging gently.

He stared into Dakota’s eyes, but the taller, older man looked a little too relaxed for my liking. He looked positive that Stefan didn’t have the guts to do anything to him. His pride was a stupid fucking thing. I knew if Stefan put his mind to it, he would have no qualms about punching the fuck out of him.

Especially after what he had hard after the work event some weeks earlier.

Stefan finally tore his eyes away from Dakota, looking at me. His eyes searched my face, trying to figure out whether I was giving him permission to punch him, or if I was demanding he let him go.

I shook my head, the action so slight I wasn’t sure he had noticed at first. But I watched as his chest moved in the motion of taking in a deep breath, then sighing it out. He finally loosened his grip and let his arm drop.

I smiled at him and nodded gently to show he had done the right thing, pushing my body between them. My back remained facing Kota while my hands gently pushed Stefan’s shoulders as a way to try to make him give the poor man some space.

“He was just dating another woman right in front of you, how can you defend him?” He asked, his eyes flickering between my own. He looked confused, trying to see through me to my brain to decipher my most inner thoughts.

I nodded slowly. “You’re right, but we’re not official or committed to one another. I’m going on dates with Owen all the time too, remember,” I defended him by reminding my friends that I was just as much a hypocrite. “I appreciate your concern and help though.”

Stefan stepped back at my words and looked down for a second, then he sucked in a breath as his chest heaved. He then forced a bright smile and looked up to the man behind me.

“My bad, mate,” Stefan reached his hand out, a peace offering.

I had to resist the urge to hold my arms out at my sides, as if I was the barrier that would ensure peace between the pair.

But Kota kept his cool and reached his arm around me, his skin brushing against my arm as he interlocked his hand with Stefan’s. The pair shook hands in mutual agreement to end the war that hadn’t had the chance the begin, and I turned my neck to try to get a better look at him.

I sucked in a breath at his beauty. He was even more mesmerising up close, and I had to resist the urge to reach a hand out and trace the lines of his face. His eyes remained on Stefan, but the edges of his lips turned up into the smallest of smiles as he must had noticed I was admiring his face from the corner of his eye.

I rushed to look away, my eyes finding Peyton who raised an eyebrow and even placed her hand on her hip for extra effect. I smiled sheepishly and shrugged. Sure, seeing the man behind me with another woman had soured my mood a few hours earlier, but he was there with me at that time instead of doing God knows what with her.

Technically it could be seen as a score on my count, even though he kept claiming she was just a friend. I would rather bury myself alive than believe a man when he called a woman ‘just a friend’.

It didn’t matter that he said they weren’t like that. I didn’t know the woman, or enough about Dakota’s personal life, for me to feel comfort in his words. I had to know every little detail bout him, carve my way through his veins until I could feel confident in his words.

I wanted to be so deep in his bloodstream, even if he dared to look at another woman, he wouldn’t be able to stop his mind from wandering to thoughts of me.

“I think we should go home, it’s getting late,” His words were a demand clouded by the illusion of it being a question. The look on his face when his eyes finally tore from Stefan when the pair dropped hands revealed to me there was no debate to be had, and that I had best listen to him.

I wanted to tell him to not so kindly piss off, to ask him who he thought he was to be demanding what I did when he was nothing more than a man I wanted, the man I had allowed into my bed one time —ignoring the fact it would have been more by that time if he gave me the time of day.

But his stare softened, and his hand moved to rest on my lower arm. His thumb rubbed the skin gently as he spoke softly, almost indistinguishable from the pounding music. “Let’s go home, yeah?”

I shot Stefan and Peyton a look. Peyton shook her head slightly, as if she were warning me not to go home with the man. But then my eyes went to Stefan who seemed to debate inwardly. He shot Peyton a look behind him, then he let out what appeared to be a sigh before he gave a singular nod and waved his hand dismissively.

“I’ll see you at work Monday, yeah butty?” Stefan asked, but didn’t bother to wait for my response before he turned to Peyton and seemed to tell her something that managed to distract her enough from my situation.

Peyton shot me a warning look with narrowed eyes, a look similar to one she gave Nova when she threw her toys out of the pram. She then shot her eyes to Kota and pointed her finger at him, then she used her thumb to motion the action of slicing her neck.

Kota held up his hands in place of a white flag, then I felt his chest rumble as he seemed to be laughing at the short yet feisty woman I called a best friend.

Peyton turned and made her way through the dancing people, disappearing between them with Stefan close behind her. I knew she would be safe since she was leaving with him. I wondered when the pair would finally reveal to me they had been hooking up. The lingering hands and withering looks were becoming exhausting to ignore.

I felt fingers on my shoulder, then felt the small strap of my tiny going out bag slip from my arm. I watched in surprise as Dakota placed it over his shoulder, then he held his hand out to me.

I stared at his hand, to his face, and back again. I heard him laugh, then he grabbed my hand and pulled me along close behind him as he led us to the edge of the dance floor where it was easier to navigate our way to freedom.

“I was telling you to hold my hand, you muppet,” He paused to lean back so I could hear his words and his laugh, then we managed to break free and fought out way to the bottom of the stairs.

“I fucking hate these stairs,” I complained, looking up at them. The stairs of Club Temptation were similar to the black tile that lined the walls, but they were slippery given the fact drunken patrons tipped all what liquids all over them.

“Want me to carry you?” Kota offered in a tone a little too serious for my liking, no longer needing to lean closer to shout with the music becoming much more tolerable in volume the further we got from the speakers.

I felt my cheeks flush and pulled my hand from his. “I didn’t mean that,” I stepped around him, holding onto the rail with a death grip as I made my way up them to the first floor .

I felt my feet slide slightly against the tiles, but thankfully the steady speed I walked with ensured my shoes didn’t slip from the stairs. One too many people had been escorted out of the place in an ambulance with neck, head, or twisted limb conditions from the stairs—and I refused to join that growing list of embarrassment.

Once my feet were planted back on one level, I turned to face him to find him a few steps down from me. He stopped on a step so his face was almost level with my own, raising an eyebrow as he looked me up and down.

“Are you going to move, or just stand there?” He asked, motioning around us to emphasise there wasn’t much space for him to walk around me. I pulled my hand to come between us and fisted it, then I light punched his shoulder. “What the fuck was that for?” He asked, bringing his hand up to rub the mildly injured shoulder.

He was brave to not hold onto the railing, I noted as his other hand held my bag in a tight grip of security from any potential threat.

“That’s for being an absolute dickhead and not answering my texts for, what, 12 days?” I stated, crossing my arms over my chest as I refused to move. If I didn’t call him out on his bullshit then, then I feared I never would.

“It was actually 14 and a half, but hey, who’s counting,” He commented sarcastically, and I narrowed my eyes to show I wasn’t about to pull up with his bullshit then. I wanted answers even if he didn’t want to give them.

He shrugged one shoulder lazily at my reaction, rolling his head back slightly as he looked up at the ceiling. The expression on his face revealed he wished to be anywhere but there in that moment. But it was his fault, he deserved a good talking to.

“Not going to defend yourself?” I asked after several seconds of silence. He continued to say nothing, but tore his eyes away from the ceiling back to me. He raised an eyebrow, and I decided to admit defeat for the time behind as I dropped my arms and turned to face the hallway.

I walked down the hallway towards the open doors without even bothering to check if he were following behind me. I had no clue if he drove there himself, or if he caught a taxi. I saw no sight of the familiar Range Rover, so I turned to the left and began to take a few steps in the direction of the bus station.

I heard a whistle from behind me, and turned to find Dakota stood in the middle of the pavement with a smirk on his face. “My car is this way,” He replied, to which I let out a scoff.

“Did you just whistle at me? Like a fucking dog?” I asked, my arms coming back to their home across my chest in a show of irritation.

“So what if I did? What are you going to do about it?” He quizzed. I narrowed my eyes in an attempt at a glare. But then I dropped my arms when I noticed my bag tight in his hand. I let out a sigh and walked over to him, then snatched my bag from his hand before I walked briskly a few steps ahead of him.

“I thought so,” He called after before following. I didn’t need to turn around to his smirk had likely turned into a wide toothy grin, I could hear it in his voice.

“I refuse to sit and bark for you while wearing a collar. If you want an obedient pet, then go get yourself a fucking dog,” I spat over my shoulder before I trained my head on the path forward.

Sure, I could have still got the bus home and we could have gone our separate ways. But I wanted to see him, despite my want to make him suffer for making me wait for him. I took a deep breath in, trying to push irritation away.

I wanted to be amicable for the night, mostly because deep inside my brain a voice asked me a question I didn’t want to consider. What if you never see him again after tonight? What if he gets sick of you?

I walked at a brisk pace, regardless of not knowing where he had parked the car. As I reached a crossroads, I looked ahead, then left and right. Sure enough tucked away not too far away down the right, the familiar white Range Rover came into view.

I made my way to the car well before him, and turned to lean against the vehicle’s passenger door with my arms crossed over my chest. I watched the pavement, waiting for the black and white trainers to come into view.

Soon enough, Dakota followed after me and smirked when his eyes found me.

“I find it funny how you complain about everything, yet here you are, still waiting outside my car for me,” He dove his hand into his jeans pocket, digging out keys that jingled faintly.

He got close enough for the doors to unlock, so I said nothing as I pushed myself off the car and rushed to get inside it. I pulled my seatbelt on and finished clicking it in when the driver’s door opened.

“You piss me off so much sometimes,” I stated as he climbed into the seat. He said nothing as he just closed the door then pulled his phone from his back pocket.

I watched as he unlocked it and types a quick message. I wasn’t proud of myself, but I dared to spare a glance at the screen only to find that of fucking course —he had a privacy screen that looked black from an angle.

I rolled my eyes and sat back in the seat, slumping down slightly and I hugged my bag to my chest. Soon after, music began to play through the speakers of the car shortly after the ignition was turned on.

I raised my eyebrows in surprise, soft piano music playing through the speakers. I let out a small laugh through my nose, turning to face him as he locked his phone screen and shot me a look of mild concern. “What are you laughing about?”

I listened to the music for a few seconds in silence, then I finally responded to his question. “Are you really listening to a piano cover of Taylor Swift right now?” I asked, to which he shrugged and pulled his seatbelt on at long last .

“It sounds beautiful, I like to drive with calm music at night time,” He replied as if it should have been a well known fact.

“You are full of surprises,” I mumbled low enough for just myself to hear, my lips turning up into a faint smile as the piano rendition of “Enchanted” by Taylor Swift filled the silence of the car.

As he pulled up to my house, I had to stop myself from demanding to know how he knew where I lived. For a brief moment, I had forgotten all about our late night rendezvous, but once the memory of his hands ghosting over my skin came flooding back, I relaxed.

I stood in the open door of the passenger side, and leant forward to get a better look at him. “You could… come in, you know,” I offered, chewing the inside of my cheek.

He looked like he was debating the offer, but then I heard his phone buzz from the little space he kept it secure as he drove. He looked down at the device, then back at me. “I have to get home, I have an early morning tomorrow.”

He gave no further explanation, and while I wanted to ask him more, I decided it best not to dig too much. I doubted he would have told me much more than that, anyway. He had a penchant for giving me just enough information that his words were not deemed a lie or a secret, but he withheld more than enough to ensure he kept the air of mystery about him.

“Right, well then…” I began, taking a step back away from the car. My hand held onto the edge of the door, not wanting to close it and say goodbye to him just yet. I had just got my short fill of him, but I needed more.

He seemed to notice my hesitation and smiled wide, almost looking proud of himself. “I’ll come over again soon.” His words were firm, not a question but a silent promise .

I nodded my head slight and gave a half hearted smile to show I wasn’t going to hold him to his words.

And without another words, I closed the car door and took several steps back towards my front door.

I watched as he turned his car around, then he began the drive down towards the road. I saw his indicators flash, almost as if he was using the emergency button to say goodbye to me. Then in a flash, he was gone.

I turned back to my house and looked up at the place. It was a beautiful house, and I was thankful I had help from my family to buy it, but it was starting to feel too big for me alone.

I walked to the front door and unlocked it, the feeling of loneliness hitting me like waves as I stepped inside to silence. I closed the door behind me once, leaning my back against it to bask in the feeling of the cold.

I closed my eyes, making a silent wish that he would keep his promise.