How the Light Gets In (Cracks Duet #2)(13)

I shrugged, trying to keep a straight face and not get all mushy and emotional. “You live, you learn.”

His hand moved from my shoulder to tuck a fallen strand of hair behind my ear. I sucked in a quick breath at his touch.

“I should’ve come back for you,” he murmured.

“You did.”

“I should’ve tried harder to convince you to come with me.”

“I only would’ve told you the same thing I told you the first time. I would’ve told you to go fulfil your dreams.”

“I think your exact words were, if you ever come back here I’ll never talk to you again,” he said, the edges of his lips curving.

“Oh, the irony,” I said with a quiet laugh.

He was fiddling with my hair now, his gaze transfixed by what his fingers were doing. “Teenagers, so melodramatic,” he went on, voice soft. His hand moved down along my neck and goosebumps rose where he touched me. He made a low hum in the back of his throat, like touching me relaxed him, and I closed my eyes for a second.

“You’ve always been so incredibly beautiful, Ev,” he whispered.

I opened my eyes and got lost in his. The deep, dark blue of his irises was a seductive prison I could happily reside in. His hand gripped my shoulder, and I snapped to my senses. I pushed off the couch and went to grab my coat and handbag while checking my phone.

“Is that the time? I have to get going.”

“Ev, wait a second.”

I turned back to him, but closed my eyes for willpower. If I looked at him, I might do something incredibly silly, like jump onto his lap and kiss him. I was twenty-nine years old. I couldn’t be kissing Dylan O’Dea.

Because when I did, I was his. Completely, utterly his.

“What?” I whispered.

“I’m sorry if I was too forward. I shouldn’t have touched you like that.”

I shook my head. “You don’t need to apologise.” Because he might’ve been the one to touch me, but I knew my eyes encouraged him.

“Still, I hope I didn’t offend you.”

“You didn’t, I promise. I’ll see you around, Dylan.”

With that I turned and walked out into the hallway and to the door. It opened just as I reached it and in walked Conor. I paused mid-stride, surprised. Not because this was the first time I’d seen him in years, but because he’d undergone quite the transformation. Gone were the glasses and scruffy Afro. They’d been replaced with a tightly shaved haircut, a suit and, I imagined, some serious laser eye surgery.

Conor had shed his awkward eighteen-year-old skin to become one seriously hot piece of arse. If I wasn’t still reeling from Dylan’s re-entry into my life—had I not known Dylan was here in New York—I might have actually asked Conor out on a date.

“Conor, wow,” I breathed.

“Evelyn, my God.” He looked frazzled, like he’d had a busy day and seeing me threw him for a loop. Wait, had Dylan not told him about running into Yvonne?

“Hey, it’s great to see you.”

“Yes, you, too. Man, it’s been a long time.”

“The years have been good to you. Really good,” I said, and he smiled at the compliment. The old Conor might’ve gone shy and flushed, but not this Conor. This Conor took it with all the suave sophistication of a successful COO.

“I could say the same for you. You look gorgeous.”

Dylan came to stand next to me, emitting a barely perceptible grunt of irritation. Conor ran a hand over his head. He had a really nicely shaped skull, now I could actually see it. His gaze flickered back and forth between Dylan and me, trying to read the room.

“So, uh, how did you end up in New York?” he asked, focusing back on me.

“I’ve only been here a short while. I moved over to join Yvonne. She’s been here a couple of years, actually—”

“Yvonne?” Conor’s eyes lit up like it was Christmas.

I chuckled. “Yes, Yvonne.” I’d almost forgotten about his old crush.

“She’s in town?”

“Yep. She manages the bar I work at. It’s called FEST.”

He blew out a breath. “I’ve literally walked by that place a hundred times.”

“Well, it’s a small world, you know. Yvonne walked into Dylan last week, and that’s how we reconnected,” I said, gesturing between Dylan and me. “So, you two are living together?”

Conor nodded, smiling. “We didn’t think there was much point renting two separate places, so we’re roommates. Hey, do you know what? We should all go out for dinner sometime. Have a catch up. You, me, Yvonne and Dylan.”

I just about caught Dylan’s smirk. “Still jonesing for the aunt, huh?”

Conor cast him a look. “It’s been a long time. It’d be nice to get together.”

“Yeah, it would. Um, let me ask Yvonne and get back to you. Right now, I’ve got to get going though, but we’ll talk soon.”

“Yeah, talk soon,” Conor agreed, and I slipped out the door. I didn’t look at Dylan. I needed to leave. I needed some time to clear my head.

I needed to absorb the fact that I still wanted him. After all these years . . . it made me feel like a teenager all over again. But more than that, it made me feel excited, because when I’d been Dylan’s, he’d made me his world.