How the Light Gets In (Cracks Duet #2)(29)
“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??
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.”