How the Light Gets In (Cracks Duet #2)(21)

I held my breath until he walked out the door. Michelle, one of my co-workers at the next till, shot me a grin, “That your boyfriend?”

“Ex,” I said.

She let out a low whistle. “If I had a fella who looked like that I wouldn’t have let him go for all the tea in China.”

No, Michelle, I don’t believe you would.

Sometimes, unfortunately, you had to do away with selfishness and let people go, for their own sake if nothing else. I sipped on my tea and continued taking customers, saving the scone for my break.

Later on, while slipping into a little black dress and heels in the bathroom next to the staff locker room, I wondered if I should just cancel. I was nervous for two reasons. One, because at the age of twenty-one, I’d never actually been to a college party, and two, because I was in danger of doing something silly if I had too much to drink.

Like kissing my ex-boyfriend.

Probably best to stick to Coke tonight.

I let my hair down and put on some make-up. When I was done, I shoved the rest of my things in my locker and put on my coat. The night-time chill tickled at my ears and the tip of my nose when I stepped outside. Dylan stood next to a lamppost waiting for me, handsome as ever.

“You look beautiful,” he breathed.

I swallowed a lump of nerves. “You haven’t even seen my outfit yet.”

He shook his head. “Don’t need to.”

I wasn’t sure how to reply, so I simply rubbed my hands together and glanced down the street.

“I thought we’d take a taxi,” Dylan said as he came and took my arm, linking it through his just like yesterday.

“S-sounds good.”

A few minutes later, we sat next to each other in the back seat, neither one of us speaking. I focused on the lights of the city rushing by and not on the fact that Dylan’s hand rested on the seat, mere inches from mine. This felt so odd. Three years ago, we saw each other every single day, but then he was gone. It was hard to adjust to being around him, especially since he was leaving tomorrow.

It made me unreasonably sad.

My heart wished for a world where he brought me tea and scones at work every day, where I got to wear nice clothes and get taken to parties. But my head knew it would never be with Dylan. Maybe with some other guy, but not with him.

Dylan still had so much to achieve. I could feel it.

We arrived outside a house in Portobello and headed inside. The front door was already open, people idling in the hallway and staircase, music playing from a speaker somewhere inside. I didn’t know anyone, so I stood close to Dylan. He must’ve sensed my nervousness, because he silently slid his fingers through mine and held my hand. I glanced at him, and a whoosh of air fled my lungs. Dylan’s gaze was full of tenderness. It felt like a lifetime ago that he last looked at me that way.

“Dylan!” came a familiar voice, and Conor emerged from the kitchen into the hallway. He looked about the same as the last time I saw him, though admittedly he didn’t hang around the Villas much anymore. He was a college student now, had all his college student buddies to hang out with. He wore the remnants of a suit, jacket gone, tie askew. It was clear he’d already had a few drinks, judging by his crooked, tipsy smile.

“Hey, where’s your gown?” Dylan teased. “Are you sure you graduated?”

“You only rent them, you don’t take them home with you,” Conor slurred. He stepped forward and pulled Dylan into a hug, causing him to lose grip on my hand.

“It’s so great to see you!”

“Great to see you, too,” Dylan said with a chuckle as he patted Conor on the back.

Conor’s attention came to me, his smile huge. “And Evelyn’s here. It’s been ages.” Then to Dylan, “So, you went straight to her place, huh?”

Dylan widened his eyes meaningfully at Conor and carefully cleared his throat. “No, we actually bumped into each other in town.”

“Oh, but remember on the phone you said—”

“Why don’t you show me and Ev where the drinks are,” Dylan interrupted, and I wondered what was up.

“Keg’s this way,” Conor replied, and we followed him into the kitchen. After he supplied us both with beers, he went to do the rounds with the rest of the partygoers, leaving me and Dylan alone. We stood in a corner of the kitchen, which was quieter than the rest of the house.

“So,” I said, glancing around. “This is what college life looks like.”

Dylan arched a brow. “First impressions?”

“A lot messier than I imagined.”

“Five blokes live here,” he replied, as though that explained it.

“Not all men are messy. I remember your bedroom used to be so neat and tidy.”

Dylan arched a brow and smirked. “You remember my bedroom, eh?”

I flushed, because we’d spent quite a few evenings making out in there . . . and other stuff. I punched him gently on the arm. “Don’t.”

Dylan tipped his beer to his mouth and winked. “Can’t help it. Good memories.”

My tummy fizzled, but I didn’t respond. After a second I asked, “What did Conor mean about you coming straight to my place?”

His expression sobered. “I was hoping you didn’t catch that.”

“Why?”