The days that followed after my first date with Charlie seemed to pass ever so slowly. It did not help that every spare second, I found my mind wandering back to that day, attempting to unravel everything that had happened.

After lunch, Charlie and I miraculously escaped from Hunter's watchful eye and walked back to my apartment alone. I forced myself to not overthink that kiss and the spark I didn't feel. I blamed it on everything but Charlie, all the reasons I could think of fell onto Hunter. Him showing up at the restaurant, taunting our past, and that tattoo I spotted.

That butterfly tattoo.

Above all else, that was topped my list of what I wanted to be erased from my memory.

Abby, as always, was the voice of reason I desperately needed. She talked me into another date with Charlie, which thankfully, went uninterrupted. The two of us shared dinner at his apartment on a night that Hunter worked. I was finally able to see the painting he wanted to show me, and quite honestly, it was a beautiful piece of work.

The kiss that ended the night created much more of a spark than after the first. I was glad Abby had talked me out of my doubts because when I returned home that night, I found myself inspired to create. In what felt like ages since my first encounter with Hunter, I painted. It wasn't my best work, but it was something.

I was glad that the creativity continued to flow after that dinner with Charlie as I spent almost every hour of each day working in my spare bedroom. Converting the spare bedroom into a studio space was one of the first things on the list I completed.

#3: Convert the spare bedroom into a studio

It was helpful to have a designated space to create. It was also a painful reminder whenever I lacked the desire and kept the door closed. For the past few days, however, the door remained open, and it was where I found myself spending every waking moment.

Sitting on the floor in front of the canvas, I dipped my brush into the cup of water as I contemplated my next move. After a few moments of swirling the brush around in the container, I lightly tapped the handle against the rim, allowing the excess water droplets to fall. My eyes darted back and forth between the painting and the pallet on the floor beside me. The decision of which shade of blue to use may seem minuscule to most, especially when the colours were almost identical to one another, but I knew one wrong choice could possibly ruin the piece.

"Pickle! Where are you?" The front door burst open, the sound of Abby's yell filling my apartment.

Giving Abby a spare key was an easy decision to make considering the amount of time she already spent here. And, clearly, the girl put it to good use.

"In here!" I called back.

Though I could hear Abby's footsteps move from the door, I was still surprised when her voice spoke up from behind me.

"What have you been up-" Abby interrupted herself with a gasp, "Oh wow, Dylan." I looked over at my friend who kneeled beside me, her eyes roaming over my canvas. "This is really good."

I let out a frustrated sigh. "It's alright, I guess," I mumbled, shrugging my shoulders. "I feel like I've been trying to decide what shade I need to add for the past hour."

"Well, I guess my timing is just perfect as always!" Abby grinned, "I brought dinner."

"Special occasion?" I asked, slightly suspicious over her gesture.

That all too familiar look became washed over her face; it was a mix of devious excitement and trouble. "Oh, yes. We are going out tonight."

"Do we have to?" I groaned.

"Dylan Sabrina Miller," Her tone was stern as she used my full name, "You can't honestly tell me that you forgot about number 6 on the list."

#6: Agree to go out with my amazing best friend at least once a week – Abby

"No..." I mumbled with an eye roll. Even though it was written by Abby herself, it was something I had followed. "I just started getting somewhere with this though." I gestured towards the canvas.

"Oh come on, Pickle. You act as if I don't know you, and I am insulted." Abby stood to her feet, pulling me up with her. "You will just stare at this all night trying to pick between what looks like 10 shades of the same blue. Besides, I promised you a night out after missing last weekend."

"Fine, you're right," I huffed in somewhat fake defeat.

I wasn't necessarily opposed to going out. I knew if I didn't get out of my apartment, I would find myself in an endless stare-off. I followed Abby out of the room and into the kitchen to find a large pizza box and a bottle of wine placed on the table.

Grabbing two sets of plates and glasses, I joined Abby at the table. "What's the plan, then?" I asked, sitting down.

"Well, Jake has been dying for us to go to this somewhat new club he has been promoting." Abby took a slice from the cardboard box. "It's called Club A."

"Club A?" I repeated.

Everything about the Los Angeles night scene was known for its name. Club A, however, sounded lazy. As if they had given up on a name and just went with the first letter in the alphabet.

Abby nodded. "It's been crazy busy, and apparently, it is a ton of fun." She reached for the bottle of wine, filling up both our glasses.

Abby continued on about Jake as we ate, chatting about how busy he has been in the past few weeks ever since he started promoting under a new boss. Keeping busy meant he was making a good amount of money, but selfishly, the best perk was being able to get in while still underage.

"How's Charlie? I still can't believe you invited him to the charity thing."

"Oh god, don't remind me," I groaned, taking a long sip of wine. "I talked to him earlier today. He's been busy with school and his internship. I feel like the next time I see him will be then."

"Wait, you're seriously going to bring him?"

"I can't uninvite him!"

"Fair enough," Abby nodded, "But I mean, are you sure you want your parents to meet him? I mean, it took you, what, seven months for them to meet Hunter and look how that turned out?"

I found myself downing the rest of my glass and quickly refilling it. "Well, maybe having my mother run him off would be a blessing in disguise. Easy way to get Hunter out of my life again."

To avoid finishing off the rest of the wine, I quickly changed the conversation to a lighter subject, and thankfully, it stayed that way while we finished eating. The two of us quickly made an agreement before starting to get ready: tonight neither of us were allowed to talk about the event, Charlie, and, most importantly, Hunter.

"You're going to need to shower," Abby stated once we stepped inside my bedroom.

Before I had the chance to take offence at her comment, her hands found their way to my shoulders and spun my body around to face the mirror. Glancing at my appearance in the reflection, I realized Abby was referring to the paint smudges across my face and body. Without another word, I headed into my bathroom and turned the shower one, my head swarming with the possibilities of what this night could possibly lead to.

Club A, despite the name I still was having trouble understanding, was more than I could have possibly imagined. It was much larger than I had expected, quite possibly the most prominent venue I had even been to, and yet, it was utterly packed from wall to wall. Strobe lights flashed across the sea of dancing bodies, illuminating the crowd that moved to the beat of the music blasting through the speakers. I followed Abby's lead as she pushed her way through, holding tightly onto her hand, out of fear of becoming consumed by the mass amount of people.

"There you girls are!" Jake's voice yelled over the blaring music as we reached the table.

Abby greeted her boyfriend with a quick kiss. "It's so busy in here! I'm surprised we made it over in one piece."

"How are you doing, Dylan?" Jake asked, handing the two of us a drink.

"Better now!" I said, raising my glass.

"Come on!" Abby yelled a wide grin spread across her lips. "Let's dance!"

Abby's hand wrapped its way around my arm, tugging my body towards the large group of dancing bodies, which created a flutter of anxiety in my chest. I knew as long as Abby was close, I wouldn't have to worry about getting lost within the crowd, though it seemed natural to do so. The floor vibrated beneath us to the beat of the music, which blasted loudly through the speakers. I felt my body move carelessly as Abby swayed my arms from side to side.

The moment of ease was brief as my eyes darted around the space. There was a heavy feeling pressing onto my shoulders, one that caused the hair on my neck to stand.

"You alright?" Abby's voice yelled over the music.

I forced my eyes back on hers as I nodded, forcing a smile to cross my lips to give my friend a false look of reassurance. It felt like I was being watched. As if a pair of eyes were burning into my back. I knew it sounded crazy due to the circumstance, but the thought would not escape my mind; the pressure becoming one that I could no longer ignore. I turned my head once more, seeing nothing to put my mind at ease over the feeling. I struggled to decide whether I was going insane or becoming self-absorbed in thinking someone was continually looking at me. In an ample space designed for consuming alcohol and dancing the night away, every single person here was too occupied by something to pay me any mind. Let alone watch me.

Jake seemed to have found his way towards us as my mind wandered, dancing beside Abby, and noticed a few of his friends had also joined. I reached for the glass in his hand and drained the remaining contents.

"Hey!" His voice whined.

"Sorry!" I was unable to hold back laughter at the sad look on his face. "I was thirsty."

"Want another?" One of his friends asked, nodding towards the direction of the bar.

I followed his lead, knowing there were was something I needed at this moment: alcohol.

"Two vodka sodas," I yelled to the bartender.

"I'm Chris, by the way," the friend said as we stood at the bar, "What's your name?"

"Dylan," I said, tapping my fingers against the wooden bar.

There was little desire I could find inside myself to socialize with Chris. I did, however, enjoy that someone as tall as him was able to direct us out of the crowd with minimal effort.

"Want to go dance?" I asked with the intention of not having to further the conversation.

I handed the bartender the money as he slid two glasses towards me. The two of us surprisingly found our way back to Abby and Jake. Jake seemed delighted that I had refilled his drink. I, on the other hand, had already managed to drain almost my entire glass, and thankfully, I rush of alcohol coursing through my body allowed my mind to ease. There was no one watching me. No one staring at me. I was for sure just going madly insane.

The calm state returned as the pressure that was once heavily weighted against my shoulders seemed to disappear entirely. The feeling of relaxation rushing inside cause me to be unaware of the body that pressed up against mine.

I stepped forward to create some space between us. Chris reached forward for my arm and pulled my body back, spinning me around to face him. Any attempt I made at tearing myself away was met with a tightening of his grip.

"Stop!" I yelled, pressing the palms of my hands against his chest.

I looked over my shoulder, my stomach sinking when my eyes did not see Abby or Jake standing behind me. It seemed as if they had gotten washed up in the crowd of people leaving me to fend for my own. I looked back at Chris, whose eyes flashing with hunger, causing the fear inside my body to bubble.

"I said, get off!" I yelled, my voice muffled in comparison to the loud music blaring through the speakers.

I failed at creating any distance between the two of us, his hands finding their way to my arms, pulling my body towards his.

"Oh come on," his voice dripped into my ear, "You were down for some fun not too long ago."

"She told you to get off of her." I instantly recognized the voice that roared from behind me. "I'd let her go if I were you."

As the grip loosened on my arms, I glanced behind me to see Hunter, standing with two large men on either side of him. The two men stepped forward as I felt an arm snake around my waist. Before I had the chance to comprehend what was occurring, I found myself being whisked away and pulled to the outskirts of the crowd.

Hunter's grip was tight as he maneuvered the two of us between the mass amount of people. I realized it wasn't a hard task, and most seemed to step aside the moment they looked up and looked at him. I wondered what kind of look was on his face to get that reaction from others.

Once we reached the side, Hunter moved his arm from my waist, taking my hand in his. He led us towards a door beside the bar with a large sign that read EMPLOYEES ONLY, with no reaction but a nod from the bartender. Behind the door was a narrow hallway, dimly lit. Neither of us exchanged a word as we walked down the path, towards a door marked exit. Hunter opened the door, releasing my hand as we stepped outside.

"Are you alright?"

I was only able to manage a nod in response as I pressed my body against the stone wall. A breeze from the night air sent a chill down my spine but provided little relief to the compression that grew in my chest.

Hunter took a step, positioning himself in front of me. "Start counting," he whispered.

"What?"

"Count, Angel."

I opened my mouth to question him further, but the worried look in his eye provided enough of an answer. Eyes closed, I inhaled a deep breath, the release sounded as shaky as I felt on the inside.

One... two... three... I began to count as I heard the door swing open, the faint sound of music from inside the club drifting out.

... four... five... six...

"Need anything?" A voice asked.

... seven... eight... nine...

"Just grab a bottle of water from the office," Hunter replied before the heavy door swung shut.

... ten... eleven... twelve...

The door creaked open again, followed by the sound of footsteps walking towards where we stood.

... thirteen... fourteen... fifteen.

"Here you go, boss." The voice said again.

... sixteen... seventeen... eighteen.

My eyes fluttered open, meeting Hunter's gaze once again. The tightness in my chest was beginning to disperse, allowing my breath to feel less constricted.

"Drink." Hunter lifted the bottle to my lips.

The moment the water hit the back of my throat, I realized how dry my mouth was.

"Thank you," I whispered.

For the first time in what felt like ages, a genuine but weak smile crossed Hunter's lips. "Of course."

Hunter took another step forward, his hand moving to the side of my face.

"Does Charlie know about us?" I asked, feeling his thumb gently brush against my cheekbone.

Hunter shook his head.

I couldn't tell if I was more hurt or thankful for his answer. Selfishly, it would have made it easier if Charlie already knew everything about our past. But maybe if he didn't already know, that meant Hunter and I's history didn't mean as much as I thought it had.

"Do you want him to?"

"No," I breathed out.

Hunter's head dipped lower towards mine. "Then he won't know."

I watched as his eyes flickered from mine to his lips. The realization of how close we were to one another caused my breathing to become more challenging to manage.

"We can't." I forced the lump in my throat down, but my voice showed no sign of strength.

Hunter swiped his tongue across his bottom lip. "I need you."

"Y-you what?" I asked, my eyes wide as I tried to understand the words I had heard.

"I need you," he repeated, his lips delicately touching mine as he spoke.

The abrupt buzzing of my phone snapped my body back into reality. Hunter's hand dropped from my face as he took a step back, creating a needed distance between us. I pulled my phone from my purse, opening the text messages that possibly stopped me from making a terrible mistake.

Abby: Where are you??

Abby: Where the fuck are you??? Are you ok??

Abby: DYLAN ANSWER ME.

"It's Abby," I mumbled, "She's wondering where I am."

I looked up from my phone screen and back to Hunter, watching as he rubbed the back of his neck. It was hard to gather the thoughts running through his head, but I assumed he too was realizing the possible mistake that almost was.

Hunter cleared his throat. "Tell her you'll be at the office. Jake will know where to go. I'll walk you there."

I nodded, quickly sending off a response to Abby. Once I heard back, I made my way towards the door.

"Dylan," Hunter called, reaching for my arm before my hand could grip the handle, "Don't tell Charlie about this." 

2019; (^ that's how i felt writing the dylan/hunter part )

much love to everyone who's still here supporting this story <3 

Q: why do you think Hunter told Dylan not to say anything about what happened?? (hehe)

don't forget to comment/vote!!