Chapter 53: Cuddles

< Shirley >
We entered through the silver double door, hand in hand together, confident smiles on our faces, pretending to be a couple.
It was really bright compared to that pub, or whatever it was. The casino seemed livelier and classier in every way. Most of the people were engaged in different types of casino games, which I never saw before. But I knew a few of them, such as poker, blackjack, slot machines, and many more.
Many people were crying in victory, some were in bankruptcy. That's what you get for gambling everything.
Whatever it was, the games looked really fun to play.
"Wow, this looks awesome!" I chimed in excitement. "We won't get in any trouble, will we?" I inquired, looking around.
"Yeah, we are going to get arrested for this," Dylan replied.
"What?" I let out, grabbing some unwanted attention, and he put his index finger on my lips to shut me up.
"Lower your voice, woman. I was just kidding," he hissed, and I nodded slightly. Removing his finger from my lips, he put his hands in his pockets.
Dylan had already recovered from his depression and was back to being sarcastic. He also added that we had to stay one hour, so we wouldn't look suspicious. We were already successful in framing Brian. Therefore, our mission was a complete success in that sense.
The slot machines in the corridor caught my eyes. "I want to play one of those," I insisted.
"No, you said that you only wanted to look around," Dylan pointed out.
"You should have known that just looking won't satisfy me," I retorted.
Dylan feigned a sigh. "Oh, well. If we don't play anything, we will make ourselves look more suspicious," he said casually.
I restrained a smile from taking over my lips. "What shall we play?" I asked enthusiastically.
"You can play anything you like, just spare me."
"No—" Dylan swiftly cut me off and proceeded towards the cashier counter with me.
"We need to get chips," he informed me.
"Chips?" I furrowed my brows in utter confusion. "Why the hell would we need chips? And if we're getting chips, I want spicy potato—"
"Casino chips, idiot. Not your regular edible potato chips" he scolded, and my mouth formed in a big 'O'.
"Excuse me?" Dylan started to talk to the cashier. After that, Dylan gave him some cash and received some different colored coins.
Oh, so these are called casino chips. I thought they were called coins. Silly me, I thought.
"What will I play?" I asked.
"Whatever you like," he said to me, and I grinned ear to ear.
"You're the best!" I exclaimed. "I want to try out the Wheel of Fortune."
"Okay. Just one try. We will leave after that" he concluded.
I gave him a thumbs up and ran off to the slot machines on my own. It strangely looked like a fortune-telling machine. A question mark rose on my head comically. "How do you use this thing? Shall I kick it or punch it?"
"No, smartass," Dylan rebuked.
"Will it tell me my future?" I questioned.
"Why would it tell your future? It's not a fortune-telling machine." Then Dylan explained the rules to me and how to win it.
"Okay, I understand." I released a determined breath.
Dylan let out a hopeless sigh and said, "Well, I doubt that."
___
"I can't believe I lost again!" I kicked the slot machine out of frustration.
I lost not once, not twice, not thrice, but seven fucking times!
"I doubt anyone can lose that many times in a row. You successfully wasted 3000$ of mine on those stupid chips," Dylan taunted while rolling his eyes, even though he didn't have a problem wasting his money. Putting his hands in his pocket, he started making his way out of the casino.
"You aren't even the least bit sad that I lost, and I'm dying out of depression over here," I whined, trailing behind him. As we passed by a certain room, I noticed a few police officers surrounding it.
It was the room where Kade Taylor was murdered. I heard Brian was already taken into custody. I also got to know the gun Dylan used to fire around in that room, actually belonged to Brian which was a relief. On top of that, Dylan was wearing gloves. There was no way anyone would suspect us, even being related to it.
Although I felt really bad for Irina, Kade's wife.
"You can die and rot away due to depression for all I care," Dylan spat out, making me pout.
"You should at least take me out tomorrow for putting my life in danger today," I reasoned out, trying to win a date over this unexpected drama.
"Dream on, Shirley." As soon as we walked out of the place, I shivered at the change of atmosphere when we got out. The coldness in the environment sent shivers down my bones.
"Why not?" I flashed my puppy eyes at him.
"As far as I'm concerned, you didn't receive a single scratch from this mission." Dylan frowned, taking his seat in the car.
"So what? Do you know that bastard Brian touched my hand?" I made up a lie and knocked on his window while pouting, trying to convince him.
"Then I will tell my men to show him a good time when he is released from jail. That should be enough," Dukan replied, starting the ignition of the car. "If you don't get in, I'm going to leave without you."
I quickly got in unless I wanted him to leave me in this creepy place. "Do you know how disgusting his touch felt?" I exaggerated.
"Wash your hands with Dettol when you get back home. It will wash away 99.99% germs," he deadpanned.
I cried out dramatically, shaking his shoulder in fake anguish. Suddenly the car crossed a speed breaker, making me bump my head into his shoulder. "Oww." I rubbed my temple with a frown.
"That's what you get for not putting on the seat belt," Dylan taunted.
An idea popped into my brain. If Dylan cared about me in the slightest, this trick should work. "If you don't listen to whatever I say, then I will not put on the seat belt."
"Then don't. Just keep getting a bump on your head until we reach your home. It's not like you will die or anything. Also, I'm thinking of driving faster tonight." Dylan smirked.
Never mind. He doesn't care about me in the slightest, I thought and immediately wrapped the seat belt around me.
Dylan chuckled and continued driving at a normal speed. Even though he was a racer, he never broke the speed rules on the streets. That's something that impressed me about him even before I met him personally.
Whereas, I always crossed the speed limits and ended up in lockup. Almost every month, I spent two or three hours in total, in a lockup, until Mom, Dad, or Adrian bailed me out.
"Even if you don't want to take me out, I will take you out. That's a promise." I crossed my arms over my chest stubbornly, letting him know my decision.
"Even if I am not coming with you, you can tell me your plans. I might consider, that is, if I'm feeling generous," he mocked.
"I'm not telling you." I turned away my face from him and stared outside the window, my cheeks puffed like balloons.
He didn't bother pacifying me anymore, so I proceeded to cook up plans.
___
"Good morning, Trisha," I greeted the old maid as I entered through the double door of Dylan's mansion.
"Good morning, ma'am," she greeted back with a sweet smile.
"I told you to call me by my first name," I reminded her.
"Oh, sorry, sorry, pardon me," she apologized with a tint of humor in it.
I giggled and asked, "Is Dylan home?"
"Yes, he is. Unfortunately, he's still sleeping. You see, Sunday is the only day he sleeps more than four hours," Trisha tried to explain with a dry chuckle.
"It's already 10. He should be up by now."
"No, he usually sleeps in till afternoon." It was no wonder that Dylan never trained or kept anything on schedule during Sunday.
I nodded, understanding her point. "Okay then. Let him sleep. Trisha, did you make breakfast for me? I'm starving," I pleaded and Trisha giggled. Since I lived alone now, I didn't have anyone making breakfast for me, except myself, and I couldn't cook that well.
"How can I not make breakfast for you, dear?" she let out, leading me towards the dining hall.
"What is today's menu?" I inquired, taking a seat at the dining table.
"Waffles and—"
"Can I have Dylan's portion too, please?" I requested as soon as Trisha served the fluffy waffles with strawberry, cookies, and chocolate syrup toppings, along with my chocolate shake.
"No, he's going to bury us six feet under the ground for the sake of his waffles." I laughed at Trisha's joke.
Trisha and I were pretty friendly with each other since she always made me food whenever I came. I chatted with her and Xavier while enjoying my meal which never failed to annoy the hell out of Dylan. According to him, one should not talk while eating, and if I want, I could gossip with Trisha and Xavier after completing my meal.
While eating I asked her about the others. Xavier didn't return home last night 'cause he has some business to handle, and Riley left early in the morning after Dylan came back home, and Sienna was still not in town for her shooting.
After completing my breakfast, I went upstairs to Dylan's room. Without knocking, I entered his bedroom quietly to not disturb his sleep. His room was clouded with darkness, even though the sun was shining with its all glory outside.
Dylan was peacefully sleeping on the right side of his bed, on his stomach. His whole body was covered with the comforter, except his face. I went closer to his bed to take a good look at his innocent face.
Aww, so cute and innocent. But argh, I can't see his face properly due to this stupid darkness, I cursed in my head.
Shaking my head, I was about to open the curtains but a thought occurred to me—what if it disturbed his peaceful sleep?
Sighing, I left his room without making any other noise. I went to the living room and started doing some work on my phone.
___
It was past eleven. It was about time I woke Dylan up.
I again went to his bedroom. Dylan was still sleeping peacefully in the exact same position as earlier. Mustering up my courage, I opened the curtains, letting the sunlight brighten the room.
Instantly his room was illuminated. A bright yellowish glow fell on his face. I smiled, looking at his sleeping figure.
I know I was acting like a creep, but I couldn't help it.
I was admiring him until I realized my main purpose. I went near him and said, "Wake up, Dylan." Yet, he didn't move a muscle. "Wakey wakey, Mr. Rude Snorlax," I whispered into his ears softly. "Mr. Sarcastic Snorlax, wake up. It's past eleven."
His eyes fluctuated as he moved around a bit. A smile made its way to my lips when he covered his face with the grey comforter childishly, hiding from the sun rays.
"Hey, wake up."
"Don't wanna," came out his muffled voice from under the sheets. I suppressed my chuckle as I tried to pull the comforter off him. He maintained a tight grip on it without letting me a chance to snatch it away.
However, as he was sleepy, I was able to pull off the comforter, yet he didn't get up.
"A glass of cold water ought to do the trick," I mumbled and was about to leave.
Dylan suddenly took a hold of my wrist and pulled me on the bed. A gasp escaped my mouth when my back clashed against his chest. He wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me close to him. He rested his chin on my shoulder with a satisfactory smile dancing on his lips.
"You're really warm." He snuggled closer to me, sending a tingling sensation all over my body. My heart accelerated as always and my breathing became shallow.
All of a sudden, I felt a pair of soft lips touch the crook of my neck. My heart almost jumped out of my ribcage. I was about to let out a squeak but stopped realizing that it was an accident. His lips just happened to brush against my skin.
Right now, his warm breath was falling on the back of my neck, and there was a storm going on inside my heart.
I let out a sigh and was about to remove his arms around my waist to get up. Not like I minded being close to him, but this was too much for me yet. I didn't want to embarrass myself anymore.
Or are you just afraid of losing control?
Oh, shut up, you stupid subconscious.
Huh, if you can, try removing his arms around you, retorted my subconscious.
I was about to do it, but Dylan just tightened his hold on my waist as if I was his prized possession.
Besides, Dylan was moving around as if he was cuddling with me. I was a sucker for cuddles, so I couldn't resist the temptation anymore and gave into it. I let him use my body as a pillow or for cuddling. He also seemed like a person who was in serious need of cuddles.
After all, cuddles helped release stress and anxiety.
Giving up, are we?
More like, giving in, I answered my subconscious.
I closed my eyes and made myself comfortable. Slowly, I felt myself deriving into sleep while divulging into the best feeling ever.