How the Light Gets In (Cracks Duet #2)(22)

He seemed edgy, red tinting his cheeks. “Visiting my dad and Conor wasn’t the main reason I came back, Ev.”

My chest ached at his confession. I asked a question, but was pretty sure I already knew the answer. “What was the main reason?”

He looked all about the room, not meeting my eyes when he spoke. “To see you.”

My heart pounded at his quiet intensity. “Oh.”

He turned, stepping closer to me. My back hit the wall. “I was hoping you’d feel differently than you did three years ago.”

“Differently?” I whispered. He was so close now, and his breath on my skin made it tingle. I wanted to touch him, run my hands across the solid lines of his shoulders. Instead, I stayed completely still.

“I want you to come back with me,” he breathed, eyes flickering between mine, searching. He exhaled heavily. “But I know you won’t.”

Not won’t, Dylan. Can’t.

I frowned and chewed on my lip. “I’m, um, just going to use the bathroom.” I had to get out of there for a minute.

He caught me by the elbow. “Are you leaving?”

“No, of course not. I just need a minute.”

He studied me, then let go. “Okay. Take your time.”

I went upstairs and found the bathroom occupied. I slumped against the wall, because I didn’t really need to go anyway. Dylan came back for me. Three years ago, I told him to never come back. I was grieving and emotional, and I didn’t really mean it. In all honesty, I felt over the moon that he still wanted me. But it was pointless. I couldn’t go to America just as much as I couldn’t three years ago.

When I went back downstairs, Dylan was in the living room. He sat on the couch, still nursing his beer. I sat on the arm next to him, because there were two guys on the other side having a deep and very drunken conversation. I could tell by how loud they were being.

“Hey,” I murmured.

“Hey,” he replied, eyes finding mine.

“Can we just—”

“Listen, Ev—”

We both spoke at once. I exhaled and looked at him kindly, starting over. “You’re leaving tomorrow. Let’s just enjoy tonight, okay? No worries, no obligations, just, you know, appreciate each other’s company.”

Dylan smiled and reached out to take my hand. He wrapped his fingers around mine, squeezing tight. “Sounds good to me.”

I didn’t have anywhere to sit, so I stayed on the arm of the chair. I didn’t drink any more alcohol, because with how I was feeling, I knew it was a bad idea to get drunk. Then three of Conor’s friends came into the room and began performing a comedy skit for everyone. Apparently, they were a comedy trio in their spare time. The skit was actually pretty funny, and at one point I was in a fit of laughter. I wiped a tear from my eye and glanced over at Dylan to see if he was laughing, too.

He wasn’t.

His attention was so fixed on me. I might as well have been the only person in the room. His smile was intimate, and he reached out to take my hand. He pulled me over to sit on his lap, and I stiffened.

His hand covered my knee as he whispered in my ear, “Just for tonight, Ev.”

Okay, Dylan, just for tonight.

For the next hour or so, we didn’t speak much. Conor’s college friends were far too entertaining, so there wasn’t much need for conversation. Dylan wrapped his arms around my waist, his thumb brushing at the fabric of my dress. Tingles skittered down my spine, while Conor dropped down next to us, drunkenly telling us all about the master’s programme he’d gotten into like it was the most interesting thing in the world. He barely noticed how Dylan was making subtle work of seducing me in a melting pile of goo.

Just being close to him, his breath on my neck, was enough to arouse me to stratospheric levels.

Despite all the heightened sexual tension, I did actually manage to have a good time. It felt like the first time in forever that I’d just allowed myself to enjoy something.

It was around midnight when Dylan went to grab our coats. He called a taxi, and we said our goodbyes to Conor.

“Two stops, please,” I said to the driver as we slid in the back.

Dylan’s hotel was the first stop. He’d been quiet on the drive, and I wondered if he felt sad that our brief time was over, because I knew I did. When the taxi stopped outside his hotel, he softly gripped my hand and said, “Come up. Just for a little bit.”

Wordlessly, I nodded. I wasn’t ready to say goodbye. Not yet. Dylan paid the driver and helped me out. We were both silent as we ascended in the hotel’s rickety lift. Reaching Dylan’s floor, I stepped out and he led me down the hall. As expected, his room was tiny. There was a bed, a dresser, and a TV in the far corner.

I stood by the bed, unsure if I should take off my coat. Dylan took his off then turned to look at me. His eyes traced my features, lingering for too long on my lips. If he didn’t stop staring at me like that, I was going to kiss him.

He stepped closer and with careful fingers unzipped my coat and slid it down my shoulders. He threw it on the bed and took a second to just . . . take me in. All pretences were gone. We both knew I hadn’t come up here for tea and friendly conversation.

He brought his hand to my neck, sliding up to cup my jaw. I exhaled heavily at his touch, and then his mouth was on mine, lips caressing my lips. I moaned when he slid his tongue inside, and suddenly we were on the bed. Dylan braced himself above me, both of us full of need. He ran his hand down the side of my body then pushed my skirt up to my belly. He swiftly unbuckled his belt and opened his fly. I grasped at his pants, pushing them down.