Colour. Part 11

He wasn’t at all like I thought he would be. He was courteous and quiet. He was far kinder to me than Tate had been.

He must’ve noticed halfway through our appetizer that I was watching him, waiting for the seductive sleaze to come out. A wry grin spread across his face, giving me a hint of what he could be like when he wanted to.

“I see someone has been talking about me.”

“What?” I dropped my buttered roll on the floor and apologized profusely to the waiter who darted over to pick it up.

After Dylan finished laughing, he shook his head at me. “Don’t bother denying it. I know Morgan and her big mouth quite well.”

He winked at me and took a sip of his Malbec while I got red in the face. The once-over he gave me was purposeful and heated.

“I’ve changed a bit since I was last with her. I’m afraid I’m not the same dick she once knew. Something changed me unexpectedly. Most unfortunately. I have a feeling you’ll prefer me like this, though. All wounded