Living With The Player

Chapter 90 Detective Dylan



**CAMILLA RENÉE**

SATURDAY.

RESIDENCE HALL B.

“I don’t reckon I’m speaking to a wooden plank? Are you even listening to me?”

“Yes, Miranda. I am.”

I clicked the power button, laying flat on the bed.

“What? Don’t tell me he was a sloppy kisser”

I snorted, keeping my eyes shut.

“I told you, he’s not.”

I mumbled, folding both hands across my chest.

“Then what’s the problem?”

Dylan Emerton.

I’m tempted to utter-But no.

“What makes you think there is?”

“What makes you think there isn’t?”

She fired. I chuckled and blinked back at her.

“He’s a good kisser. He’s understanding. Same major…”

I recite then sigh.

“Okay, three pros. What are the cons?”

“None.”

I chirped. Another sigh.

“Then what’s your problem, Camilla? Do you want a huge signboard screaming accept me?”

I giggled and finally stood up.

“You seem so keen on me dating Jimmy.”

“Of course I am. He’s perfect.”

“What if having no con is a con? Haven’t you heard the saying if something is too good to be true then it’s probably not true”

It’s her turn to snort.

“Bull. That’s a crappy way to think.”

She took off her jacket, turning to the closet to get changed.

“I laid back in bed, replaying everything in my senses repeatedly. Every time I’m back in one position. The meeting is tomorrow. Maybe go there and put an end to his advances. What’s the worse that could happen?”

****

SUNDAY.

I was never the religious type. I believed in the Almighty. I just don’t fancy churches. But as per Miranda’s request, I dragged my ass as early as 8 am and got ready for mass. That ended a little after 10 and we were back at the dorm, which gave me a little time to arrange my presentation or get started on it.

“What are your dislikes, Miranda?”

“You don’t know what I don’t like? We’re best friends?”

She gasps and tugs on her lips while frowning.

“Of course, I know them. I want to know more. It’s for a presentation in class.”

“So I’m your lab rat now?”

I chuckled and showed her the screen. I’d typed out details about her. Name. Age. Date of birth. And notes.

“Drama queen?”

She screeched. That’s her bio.

“Well, you are a drama major. It should appear a compliment.”

I took the computer away from her wavery eyes.

“I’m not doing it. Go find someone else.”

She huffs, then crosses her arm. Of course, she’s being a drama queen about being called a drama queen. So Miranda like.

“You can’t be serious.”

“You’re going to put up everything about me in front of your class, then I’ll be a laughingstock. Hell no.”

“Fine, I’ll make it anonymous.”

“Still no.”

She shook her head vigorously. Great, now I need a new client.

“Aren’t you hungry?”

She chirped, finding a spot on her bed.

“What’s on the meal plan this afternoon?”

“Eggs and bacon.”

“Eww.”

We chorused.

“So I’m thinking we go out. It’s almost noon, so lunch?”

I halted.

Noon is when I’m supposed to meet Dylan.

“Aren’t you hungry or do you have plans elsewhere?”

She must have noticed my discomfort.

“Not really.”

“Not really to the first question or the second?”

“Of course I’m hungry. I only had coffee this morning. I’m supposed to meet someone, but I’m not sure if I’m going to.”

She quirked her brows in suspicion.

“Well, you can see your mysterious person, then meet me at the Van’s Pizza place. Just don’t take too long. You know it, right?”

I bob my head in affirmation. It’s official then. I’m meeting him.

****

Clad in a floral gown to match the weather, I slipped on a cover shoe and grabbed my jacket.

At exactly noon, I got a text from him.

“Waiting.”

Who knew one word could hold that much power? Enough power to make me quake.

I didn’t text back before exiting the room.

I nibbled through half my nails from the elevator up to the faculty buildings.

He said behind.

I’m doing this. My legs feel light-weighted with each step forward, like I’ll fall or something.

Being in a closed space with him isn’t how I imagined my weekend.

Unless I’m not?

I reached the spot, half expecting to meet him on his knees or something, yes that’s a little far-fetched, but what can I say?

Instead, I see not just Dylan, but up to ten other students. Male and female.

I can make him out from the group, no jacket for today. Just black pants and a blue shirt.

He’s saying something to another guy, then they chuckle, and he turns away.

The second I meet his gaze, I shiver and grip my purse harder.

Slowly, he strides over to me, grinning widely.

The others don’t seem to notice, or they don’t bother with both of us.This content is © NôvelDrama.Org.

“You’re here.”

He breathes and I’m hit with a wave of his cologne. It’s more of lavender and oranges. If there was ever such a combination.

“Yes. I keep my word.”

Actually no. I would’ve chickened out, but somehow I’m here.

He chuckles, then tucks his hand away.

“Although I do have a lunch date with someone, so I’m not sure how long you’ll have me here for. I’m not even sure why I’m here.”

His brows shoot at the word date, parting his lips to say something, but cutting off at the last minute.

“You’re here as a witness.”

He takes a few steps and stands beside me. His scent is all I can think of now. I inhale, then exhale.

They’re standing by each other and two of them step forward.

“It’s our first week, and they gave us a project to work on. The faculty of art, department of law and justice.”

I bite the corner of my lips to prevent a gasp.

Dylan dropped soccer for law or justice?

I keep mute and wait for him to carry on.

“It’s being documented, and the teacher demanded we have at least one witness outside of the department.”

He pauses, then smiles.

“Since I was too kind to hide while *he* sees you, I figured you could return the favour.”

The corner of his life draws as he smirks.

“So what do I have to do?”

“For today, observe the surrounding. We’re almost done, just getting things around.”

I nodded without a word.

“The department of law is brought with a case to trash out. I’m studying criminal justice. We have to investigate and find the truth. Each side has two detectives, and they can present a strong case.”

I couldn’t hide the shock on my face.

“You want to be a detective?”

I blurted in shock.

“Yes, Cam.”

He smiled widely, and a breath got caught in my throat. *Cam*

I coughed harshly.

“That’s surprising. What about soccer?”

I found myself curious about his life choices.

“I can still play for Cal-U, but the thrill I got on the field was nothing compared to what I felt after figuring out the truth about the arson case and getting you freed.”

He locked his gaze on mine; I peaked carefully, trying to check for hints of deceit or mockery. Maybe this is some sick way of trying to get to me. No way he gave up football.

I couldn’t uncover any. Dylan is deadly serious.

He wants to study criminal justice for me-well; I was his muse of some sort. I helped him figure that part out. A good thing came out of burning my house down, after all.

I coughed a second time, blinking back furiously. I’m not crying in front of him.

“Are you okay?”

I turned away.

“Yes, I am.”

I answered quickly.

“Is there anything else?”

I choked on my own words, trying to get full breaths out of my lungs.

I didn’t think this could happen. Did he drop soccer? As a career?

“Camilla.”

I flinched at his touch, pulling away and reeling.

“I have to go now. I have someone waiting for me, but text me what comes next and all. I’ll try my best to make it.”

The tears brimming beneath my lids were threatening to spill. I need to leave now.

“What’s wrong?”

His tone hardened, and I ducked away. I won’t look at him-I can’t.

“Nothing.”

I answered back, just as cold.

Swerving my entire body, I strode away quickly, getting out of that environment that was choking with every passing second.

Back in the middle of the university, I kneeled my head while walking as the tears trickled slowly.

I have no clue why I’m crying. None. Just the centre of my chest hurts. It’s constricted and it fucking hurts.

*He figured that out because of me?*

I sniffled and kept moving to the pizza place.

Remember when I said what’s the worse that could happen? The worst just happened.

****

Thoughts?


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