Wyatt wasn’t surprised at her first statement in the least, but the second caught him by surprise. He didn’t think she would really say anything about it and he hadn’t even realized he had said it. It was second nature now to tell Victoria he loved her—they had been dating for about two years so it’s not like it was unusual—whether he meant it or not. He was sure he did… Didn’t he? Ignoring the first thing Dallas said, Wyatt raised one of his brows as he addressed the second statement instead. “I don’t love her?” He let the question linger on his tongue for a moment, playing with the idea, but he had only fallen in love once in his life and wasn’t sure if there were different kinds, different ways to feel it. He didn’t know if he loved her or not, he just knew he had been with her long enough to say it and it be normal. Maybe that’s why he did it; because it was normal for couples of that long. “Who are you to tell me who I love?” he asked, not angry but a little hurt. Dallas had known him since they were /babies/, and for all those years she couldn’t see the obvious. He was crazy for her, but she was as good for seeing it as a blind woman. So, who was she to tell him who he loved and didn’t? “Maybe I do love her, Dal.” He rubbed the back of his neck, keeping his eyes on his best friend and carefully assessing her reaction. He didn’t want that water she was holding down his new T-shirt. But it needed a wash anyway. “I’ve been dating her for two years and she’s the only girl I’ve ever been with. I love her because…” Hesitation. His brows came together as he thought about why he might love her, but all he could think about was why he didn’t. She was naggy, conceited, painfully stupid, racist, inconsiderate, rude to strangers, two-faced, had mood-swings from Hell, wasn’t too modest. Why was he with her? He rubbed his chin as he thought, his eyes no longer on Dallas. He was with her because he needed a rebound, and why not a hot blonde with long legs and short skirts? He was a guy, after all. And a man only lies with someone he doesn’t want when the one he does isn’t around. “You know what, I’m going to take a shower and change and stuff,” he said, quickly changing the subject and sitting up, spinning on his heel and making his way back to the living room in a rush. He crouched down by his bag and quickly unzipped it again, taking out his laptop and putting it on the end table nearby and delving through his clothes to find suitable to wear, also taking out his soaps. Dallas may or may not follow him, but she never was one to give up when she wanted to know something. Persistent Dallas. And his sudden cut off was bound to spark her pride since he couldn’t give her an answer to prove himself right, only proving himself wrong. “Damnit,” he muttered when couldn’t find a pair of boxer briefs in the mass of clothes before chucking the jeans he had in hand back onto the pile, sitting down. “Dallas!” he called. “How long do you want me to stay?” He had brought enough clothes to last him a week, even longer if he washed them, and money wasn’t a problem with the credit card his parents gave him. You could say he was spoiled, but he also didn’t have a job or anything to help support him. He wanted Dallas to say that he was allowed to stay as long as he wanted, because then he might never go back to Lauderdale. The internship killed him and he was beginning to think it wasn’t even worth it, and he had already switched his classes to online so he could still graduate if he ended up staying in Washington (not like it would do much good, seeing as how there was no game company centered in Forks or even within the state), but he had already put too much effort into it. He could move in with her. It’d be a way to get rid of Vicky without having to deal with the break up stage, and he would have more time to spend with Dal.
Posted on: Wed, 18 Sep 2013 21:33:47 +0000
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