How the Light Gets In by L.H. Cosway

Author:L.H. Cosway [Cosway, L.H.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-02-06T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 9

“Ev, you can head home now. Your shift’s over,” said Ger, the other bartender on duty.

I blinked several times and turned to him. “Right. Thanks.”

He frowned. “Are you okay?”

“Perfectly fine,” I said and stepped by him. Dylan sat at the bar. His eyes followed me as I went into the staffroom to collect my things. His voice echoed in my head, his romantic words warming all the parts of me that were cold. The way he looked at me was all-consuming. Most people could only dream of being looked at in such a way. And there he was right in front of me, his eyes telling me I could have him if only I was brave enough to reach out and take.

He made me weak. He made me want. Every part of me fizzled with the need to feel his touch, to touch him in return. It was so much I could hardly stand it any longer.

I walked out, and he was still there. His eyes asked a question. I came closer, swallowing several times as I gathered my nerve, then said, “Take me home.”

Dylan didn’t breathe a word, only nodded and stood to offer me his hand. We didn’t have too much trouble hailing a taxi, but it was a quiet journey. Pent-up emotions clogged the enclosed space.

“You left your top at my apartment,” Dylan said, stroking a hand through my hair.

“I know,” I replied, not looking at him. “And I still have your T-shirt.”

“Keep it,” he offered and I smiled.

“I did always love it on you.”

The taxi stopped then, and Dylan paid the driver. He got out first and came around to open my side. I didn’t know what I was doing bringing him home with me, but after our conversation at the bar, I wasn’t ready to say goodnight.

When it came to Dylan, I’d never been ready to say goodnight.

I couldn’t believe how quickly I’d fallen back under his spell. Sure, in the time we’d been apart I’d thought about him almost every day, but that didn’t mean I ever expected to see him again. Especially not after that night we spent together in his tiny, cheap hotel room. I fled before he woke up, and left nothing but a hasty, sentimental note written on the back of an envelope.

I led him upstairs to the apartment, placing my finger to my lips for him to be quiet. “Yvonne’s asleep,” I said and slotted my key in the door.

We stepped inside, and Dylan silently helped me off with my coat. His eyes traced my features, focusing on my lips. I turned and dropped my keys into the bowl on the coffee table.

“Want some tea?” I whispered.

“Sure,” he replied and took a seat on the couch.

“Okay, I’ll be right back,” I said, going to turn the electric heater on in my bedroom. The building didn’t have a great boiler, so my room was really cold some nights. I was almost to my door when two arms wrapped around me from behind.

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