If a fumble and a kiss with Dylan felt heavenly tonight, then having sex with him would be celestial. I wasn’t sure I was equipped to deal with celestial right now, not when I was trying hard not to fall for him again. Maybe it was for the best that we were interrupted.
“Well,” said Yvonne, up on her high horse. She stood by the door to the en-suite, arms folded.
I cast her a glance as I dried my face with a towel. “Well, yourself.”
“Oh, no, no. I’m the one welling right now, Evelyn,” she said, grinning happily as she pulled her dress over her head. “It’s happening.”
“What’s happening?”
“You and Dylan, finding your way back to one another. I knew it would.”
“What about you and Conor? All over each other like two big, horny potatoes.”
She pointed a finger at me and walked into the bedroom. “First of all, that’s not even a saying, and second of all . . . okay, I don’t have a second of all, but you can shut your face.”
“You liiiike him,” I crooned.
She threw a pillow at my head then went to climb under the covers. “I already told you, he’s too young.”
“It’s a modern world. Nobody cares about age gaps anymore.”
“Oh, I beg to differ. People say they don’t care, but really, they do. They talk behind your back. It’s just one of those things.”
“Well, I think you’re wrong, and I bet Conor does, too.”
She made a harrumph and plumped the pillow under my head. “We’ll see.”
“Yes, we will,” I replied and reached over to turn off the lamp. Not ten seconds later, Yvonne started snoring. I grabbed the spare pillow to drown her out, and soon enough I was asleep, too.
Chapter 8
I woke up to the smell of coffee.
My eyes were still closed as I spread my palms out on the sheets. This bed was so comfortable . . . and then it hit me.
Dylan.
Yvonne snored lightly next to me, but all I could see was her hair. Sitting up, I ran my hands through my own hair, fingers catching in the knots. Ugh. Last night we’d all gone way overboard. I was surprised I actually had the wherewithal not to sleep with Dylan.
The bedroom door was ajar, and I could hear him and Conor chatting in the kitchen. He had to have come in to leave the coffee. I’d probably had my mouth hanging open, snoring and drooling on the pillow. I picked it up and took a sip.
Nice. It was still warm.
I took a few more sips then crawled out of bed and quickly pulled on my jeans. I slipped into the bathroom to pee then wandered downstairs to the kitchen. Dylan and Conor sat by the counter drinking tea and eating marmalade on toast. It made me smile, because it was the type of thing we ate for breakfast in the old days.
Some things didn’t change.
“Morning, blondie,” Dylan said, his expression fond.
“Hey. Um, thanks for the coffee.”
“No worries. Come sit. Do you want some toast?” he asked, gesturing to a stool.
“I’d love some.”
“How’s the head?” Conor asked, grinning.
“Not as bad as it should be,” I replied then winced. “Did I call you a pretty butterfly last night, or is it just my imagination?”
Dylan laughed. “It’s not your imagination. You definitely called him that.”
I shot Conor an apologetic look. “Sorry.”
He shrugged. “There are worse things to be called.”
“Here.” Dylan set a cup of tea in front of me.
“Thanks,” I murmured and took a sip.
We chatted for a couple minutes, yet all the while I couldn’t stop thinking about Dylan lying on me when I got into bed last night. If we hadn’t been interrupted, things would’ve gone further.
Before long, Yvonne came downstairs. She’d changed back into her red dress, but she’d obviously paid a visit to the bathroom to freshen up and remove last night’s make-up. She actually looked pretty fresh-faced all things considered, but I could tell from her expression she felt awkward.
“Morning everyone,” she said, her voice scratchy. The hazards from shouting to make conversation in the bar last night.
“Yvonne. Let me make you something to eat,” Conor offered, standing from his stool but she waved him off.
“No, no, I need to get home and shower. I have work in a little while.”
He seemed disappointed. “Okay, well, I’ll call you a taxi then.”
“We can catch one on the street. Are you ready to go, Ev?”
I sensed her urgency and quickly nodded, wiping the toast crumbs from my hands. “Sure, just let me grab my bag.”
I hurried to gather my things, then returned to the kitchen to say goodbye. Feeling brave, I approached Dylan, went up on my tiptoes, and gave him a peck on the cheek. “Thanks for last night. I had a great time,” I murmured.
“My pleasure,” he whispered and turned his head to catch my lips in a sneaky kiss. I pulled back, trying to scowl, but only succeeded in a crooked smile. He was so cheeky. And my insides felt all sorts of mushy and excited because of it.
“See you, ladies,” Conor called as Yvonne hustled me out the door.
We were in a taxi before either one of us said anything, but then we both spoke at the same time.
“Why are you being so awkward?”
“I can’t believe we stayed the night.”
“It’s not like we did anything.” She was completely overreacting.
“Yes, well, it’s not like me. I don’t do that sort of thing.”
“Why don’t you? We had fun. You deserve to have fun, Yvonne.”
“Then why do I feel so embarrassed?”
“Because you’re overthinking it. Are you embarrassed because you danced with Conor?”
“Yes. He’s so much younger than me, and well, look at him. He’s gorgeous.”
“As are you. He’s actually liked you since forever. Maybe you need to enjoy his attention. I think he’d like the chance to woo you.”
“I don’t want to be wooed.”
“Too bad. It’s happening. I wouldn’t be surprised if you hear from him again very soon.”
She shook her head at me, flustered, and turned her attention out the window. Personally, I was eager to see how things transpired between them. Once Yvonne got over her hang-ups, they could be amazing together. Not to mention Conor wanted to buy a place here in New York. It was perfect timing for the both of them.
The next day I received an email from Dylan. He really seemed to enjoy this method of communication.
Monday 12:19
[email protected] to
[email protected] Think I might warm a seat at the bar tonight. Are you working?
Monday 12:20
[email protected] to
[email protected] Yessir.
Monday 12:22
[email protected] to
[email protected] In that case, keep an eye out for the handsome geezer in a suit trying to get your attention. He’s a real catch.
Monday 12:25
[email protected] to
[email protected] Hmm, are you sure he isn’t trying to sell me a timeshare? Because I’m not interested ;-)
Monday 12:26
[email protected] to
[email protected] Is timeshare a euphemism? The winky face is confusing me.
Monday 12:27
[email protected] to
[email protected] No. Get back to work ;-)
Monday 12:29
[email protected] to
[email protected] Ah! Quit that. It’s creepy.
Monday 12:31
[email protected] to
[email protected] Do you have a fear of winky emojis? Because if you do I don’t think we can date. I don’t want to pass the affliction onto our offspring.
P.S. ;-) ;-) ;-)
Monday 12:34
[email protected] to
[email protected] Don’t worry. Winkiphobia skips a generation.
P.S. Stop it.
P.P.S. I thought dating was off the table??
br />
Monday 12:36
[email protected] to
[email protected] Phew! Good to know.
P.S. Winkiphobia sounds like a fear of small penises. FYI.
P.P.S. It is off the table, but it might be sitting in the pantry, waiting to be plucked off the shelf in time.
Monday 12:37
[email protected] to
[email protected] God, I love you.
Going back to work now.
P.S. I’ll live in hope. xxx
I stared at the screen for several minutes, fixating on those three little words. I mean, it shouldn’t have been so shocking. We said the same thing to one another on a daily basis when we were kids. We were older now, but I still felt excited and fluttery like it was the very first time. Questions filled my head, like, was it just a force of habit? A slip of the tongue? Or the type, to be more exact. Did he mean he loved me romantically, or he loved talking to me, or was it simply that he’d always loved me? Or was it something he said now?
Gah, I was going to drive myself mad thinking in circles.
That night, a few hours into my shift, Dylan appeared. It was Monday, so the vibe in the bar was mellow. I was stacking some glasses when he took a seat in front of me. His hair was mussed and his tie loose. In all honesty, he looked tired but still happy to see me.
“Long day?”
He sighed. “The longest. Can I get a pint?”
“Sure. Anything you want to talk about?”
“Nothing very interesting. There’s just a lot left to do to get the store fully functional, and I’ve been . . . distracted,” he said, eyeing me as he fiddled with a coaster. I took that to mean I was the distraction.
“You just need to sleep more. Sleep is life’s miracle cure. You can face anything once you’ve had enough.”
His eyebrow moved ever so slightly. “I’d sleep much better with someone beside me.”
“I’m sure Laura would be happy to volunteer,” I replied and regretted it when he frowned.
“Don’t do that, Ev.”
“Do what?”
“Muddy up what’s happening between us,” he said, gesturing me closer. I leaned a little over the bar and his voice lowered to a pitch I felt all the way between my thighs. “It feels natural, doesn’t it?”
I couldn’t say no, because it did. Dylan’s return into my life was obliterating my usual negative thoughts. How could I feel depressed when he smiled at me like I hung the moon and stars?
I didn’t answer him, but he probably saw agreement in my eyes. I went to pull his pint, and caught him studying me when I glanced his way.
“What?”
He wore a smile like he had a secret. “Just thinking.”
“About?”
“Where I’m going to take you on our first date.”
I narrowed my gaze, unable to help the smile playing on my lips. “Oh yeah? Well, you’re looking at an eligible lady right here, so it better be good.”
Dylan rubbed at his stubble, mischief glittering in his eyes. “I was thinking Burger King followed by a fumble in the bushes?”
I chuckled. He was being ridiculous, but I was charmed and played along. “I like it. Tell me more.”
“We’ll argue with the server that they didn’t give us enough fries, then plant a hair in our burgers so we can get our money back.”
“Damn, you know how to treat a girl.”
“They should name me bachelor of the year.”
“Definitely.”
I chewed on my lip before I spoke again. “Speaking of bachelors, I’d love to hear about your past relationships. After all, I’ve told you all about mine.”
My mind went back to our brief reunion eight years ago, when I left him that note. I’d encouraged him to go out and find love, but even now it hurt just to think about him with another woman. Other women.
He grimaced. “How about I don’t?”
“Quid pro quo, my friend.”
Dylan blew out a breath. I could tell he really didn’t want to talk about this, but I was too curious to let him off the hook.
“My longest relationship was in San Francisco,” he said finally.
“Ah, so that’s why it’s your favourite city,” I replied, and tried to hide my pang of jealousy.
“That’s not the reason,” Dylan said. “It’s my favourite place because I like the atmosphere and the people. Aside from LA, I was there the longest, so it makes sense that my longest relationship would be there, too.”
“So, why did it end with San Fran girl?”
“She said I worked too much.”
I arched a brow. “That’s all?”
Dylan slid his teeth across his lower lip. “She also said I should’ve proposed to her on our one-year anniversary, but we were together a year and a half and there was no ring, so . . .”
“She cut you loose.”
“Pretty much.”
I wanted to ask if he’d loved her, but I wasn’t that brave. Some part of me wanted to be the only one he’d truly ever loved, which was selfish, but I couldn’t help it. Eleven years was a long time not to love anyone. Believe me, I knew.
Clearing my throat, I continued, “Anyone else?”
“Well, there was Anna in LA, and Veronica in Chicago, but those only lasted a couple months.”
“And Laura in New York. You should write an R&B song,” I mused.
Dylan chuckled softly before his expression sobered. He must’ve sensed some insecurity in me when he said, “Laura and I didn’t date, Ev. Whatever it was is well and truly over. You know that, right?”
I stared at him a moment, but before I could respond a voice said, “Hey! You never called.”
I blinked my attention away from Dylan to the person who spoke. It was a guy in a suit, and it took me a second to recognise him as the man who hit on me here at the bar a couple weeks ago. He’d complimented my accent and given me his business card.
I mustered a polite smile. “Hi, uh, can I get you anything?”
“You can get me your number, babe. I guarantee I’ll use it.”
Dylan frowned and cocked his head, all is this arsehole for real?
“Oh, well, that’s against the management rules, I’m afraid. But I can get you a drink.”
“Playing hard to get. I like it,” he said, completely oblivious to Dylan’s hard stare. “I’ll take a gin and tonic, gorgeous.”
I made his drink and handed it over. He placed a twenty on the bar, and I took it to the till before bringing back his change. As I slid the money towards him, he placed his hand over mine, leaning closer when he said, “If you give me your number, I promise I’ll make it worth your while.”
Dylan rose out of his seat and cleared his throat harshly. “I’ll advise you to take your hand off my girlfriend.”
The guy turned, looked at Dylan, then lifted his hand. “Hey, sorry, buddy. I didn’t know the lovely lady here was taken.”
He grabbed his drink off the bar, turned, and walked away. Obviously, flirting with me wasn’t worth getting into a fight over. I placed more napkins and straws in the dispenser and glanced at Dylan. “Feel better now?”
He narrowed his gaze; my amusement clearly bothered him. “He touched you.”
“This is a bar. Handsy types come with the territory. I’m well used to fending them off.”
Dylan knocked back a gulp of his beer. “You shouldn’t have to fend anyone off.”
I nodded, because he was right. Still, the fact he referred to me as his girlfriend had my stomach in flutters. It was a lie to get the guy to leave, I knew that, but the way he said, all possessive, made something in me wake up and take notice. Besides, I understood how it felt to be jealous. Just thinking of him and Laura together made me want to grit my teeth.
Speaking of which, I needed to move past my issues about her. He said they were over, but I had to know if that was one hundred per cent true. I wanted to eventually get to a place where I was ready to date Dylan, and if I ever got there I had to get over
him being around a woman he’d slept with. She worked for him, and no matter what went on between them, I’d never ask him to fire her and hire someone else. It wasn’t my style.
“Can I ask you something?” I said. Dylan, whose attention had been fixed on his beer, lifted his eyes to mine.
“Ask me anything.”
I chewed on my lip. “It’s sort of related to what we were talking about earlier. About your exes.”
He groaned, which was a little bit adorable. “Go on, then.”
I steeled myself. “Well, it’s kind of silly, but it’s something that’s been niggling at me. I know you said you and Laura were over, but why did she feel she could text you at four in the morning? Has she texted you since that night? Will she text you for a booty call again in the middle of the night?” I hated feeling so insecure—hated sounding insecure—but this was warranted. He must have been able to see that Laura wanted him, but I needed to know that he didn’t feel the same.
He stared at me for a second, looking overwhelmed. “That’s a lot of questions.”
“Bit of an onslaught, I know. Sorry.”
He scratched his jaw. “Don’t be sorry. You have a right to know, and I have no problem being up front with you. To be honest, I have no clue why she texted me at four in the bloody morning. In fact, it pissed me off. Mostly because it interrupted my time with you.”
I swallowed then nodded. He continued speaking. “I told her it was inappropriate, which I know is a bit of a double standard, but it was the only way I could think to set her straight. She hasn’t done it again since, so she got the message.”
He paused then reached across the bar to take my hand in his. “I haven’t wanted anyone else. I feel like I’ve been waiting for you, if you want the truth. Yes, there were other women, and I think I dated and stayed awhile with some of them because it was better than being alone in some ways. You . . . you said you wanted me to find someone in your note.”
I blinked and looked away. “I did.”
He squeezed my hand. “And I tried to, believe me, I tried. But none of them, none of them hold a candle to you, Ev.”
He took a deep breath and held my hand to his heart. “It’s always only been you. It only ever will be.”
Chapter 9