How the Light Gets In (Cracks Duet #2)(19)

Finally, I managed to get some words out. “Dylan, my goodness, what a surprise.”

He lifted a thumb and pointed over his shoulder. “Yeah, I’m, uh, staying at the hotel across the street. It’s great to see you.”

“You, too,” I breathed, though great wasn’t the right word. Startled was a better one. The hotel he pointed to didn’t look so fancy. In fact, it was downtrodden and old, the brickwork in need of a new paint job. Maybe life wasn’t going as successfully for Dylan as I often imagined it was.

His gaze followed mine and he grimaced. “It’s not as bad as it looks.”

“Hey, I still live at the Villas. I’m in no position to judge.”

His lips twitched as his gaze travelled down my drenched body and back up. I was overly aware of the raindrop that sat at the tip of my nose. I wanted to wipe it away, but I was too self-conscious to do it with Dylan staring at me.

When I didn’t speak again he said, “Aren’t you going to ask what I’m doing here?”

No, Dylan, I’m not, because I’m too embarrassed to be standing here in the lashing rain, wearing my cashier’s uniform, cheap shoes, and name tag.

I felt so small. Why did you bump into old flames when you looked your absolute worst? It was one of God’s twisted celestial algorithms that made it happen to everyone at least once in their lives.

I cleared my scratchy throat and asked what he wanted me to ask. “What are you doing here?”

Dylan smiled, completely at ease. He didn’t look at all uncomfortable or frazzled like I was sure I did, even with the fact that he was staying in a crappy hotel. He stepped closer so that his umbrella sheltered me, an unexpected and kind gesture. “I came back to visit Dad,” he replied. “He’s still living in Galway with his brother, got a job down there and everything. I took the train here last night.”

“Are you staying long?” I questioned further, curious now.

He shoved one hand in his pocket. “Just for another two days. It’s Conor’s college graduation tomorrow, so I thought I’d kill two birds with one stone.” He paused, handsome eyes grazing my features. “And of course, I was going to come pay you a visit.”

“You were?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

I swallowed, feeling guilty. “I just thought, since I never replied to your letters—”

“Ev, I understand why you didn’t write,” he said, eyes full of compassion.

But it still hurt, didn’t it?

It certainly hurt me not to reply. I cleared my throat and stared up at him. “Yes, well, I hope everything’s going well for you in LA. I mean, you’ve got a tan now, so it must be going okay at least,” I teased, trying to lighten the mood.

“Why don’t we go over to my hotel, and I’ll make you some tea. We can have a catch up?”

The offer took me by surprise, and I glanced around for a better option. Strangely, I did want to catch up. I just didn’t want to do it in the confines of what was sure to be a tiny hotel room. “How about we go to the café down the street instead?” I suggested and pointed a few buildings down.

Dylan’s cheeks coloured as he realised how his invitation sounded. “Right, yes, sorry, let’s go to the café,” he said and offered me his arm.

I linked mine through his and internally freaked out at how close we were. I could smell his cologne, faint as it was. When we reached the café, Dylan shook out his umbrella and left it by the door. I quickly excused myself to the bathroom to dry off and have a private little freak out.

He looks as gorgeous as ever.

You look like a drowned rat.

But he’s staying in that hotel.

He can’t be doing that well for himself.

And it’s not like I need to care what I look like.

We’re not together anymore, nor will we be ever again.

Just go out there, chat like a normal person, and wish him well with the rest of his life.

When I returned, Dylan sat at a table reading the menu. I lowered myself into a chair and clasped my hands together. “So—”

“What can I get you two?” a waitress interrupted, and I flushed for no apparent reason.

“I’ll have tea,” Dylan answered.

“Yes, tea for me, too,” I said, then added, “Oh, and a scone, please.”

The waitress left and I looked back to Dylan. “They have really nice scones here.”

He smiled. “I’ll remember that for next time.”

“Was the flight awful? It must be terribly long to come from California,” I said. If I just kept asking mundane questions, maybe I’d relax more.

“It was a little under eleven hours, but I kept busy. Boredom is the real challenge on long flights.”

“Did you watch any movies? I hear they have TV screens on the seat in front of you with a choice of films.” Dylan’s gaze softened. He must’ve thought me terribly quaint now that he was living over there, but I couldn’t help my curiosity. I’d never been on a long-haul flight.

“Yeah, there are screens. I prefer to bring a good book with me though. If I start reading at the beginning of the flight, I can be almost finished by the time I arrive at my destination.”

“What did you read?”