Take Me by Caitlin Crews

Author:Caitlin Crews
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-02-04T13:17:34+00:00

CHAPTER EIGHT

JENNY MADE HER way through the rooftop restaurant, only vaguely aware that there were other people tucked away in their own little pockets of privacy in the soft, close dark. Because all she could think about was Dylan.

All versions of Dylan.

She found the door that led into the building, then down the same hallway they’d come up—while she’d been reeling from his mouth and barely aware that she was upright and walking.

Sure enough, there was another door with a WC slapped on the front. She stood in front of it for a moment, wracked with indecision, and then swallowed. Hard. She looked around, but there was only the one. No chance that she might arrange herself fetchingly in the wrong bathroom.

She laughed a little bit at that, but when the laugh was done, she was still standing there in the hallway. Definitely stalling, and after all that big talk at the table.

“Right, then,” she told herself bracingly, as if that could launch her forward.

As if what she really needed here was a stern talking to, and then what she was about to do would all seem normal.

But it was Dylan. And she’d come here for this. And even though everything that had happened tonight was so far out of the realm of what she’d imagined or anticipated, it was all right, somehow. Because it was Dylan, and if she believed nothing else, she believed in him.

She always had—but maybe this wasn’t the right time to dig into her long friendship with a man who’d apparently had all of this inside him all the while.

She pushed her way into the bathroom. It was small, but still managed to seem infinitely luxurious the way everything else did in this place. There was only one stall, but it was behind its own full door and it was empty when she checked.

There was dim, inviting light from a sconce on the wall. The sink was ornate, with fluffy towels on the counter and a selection of not only soaps and lotions, but a variety of toiletries.

Including condoms.

And it was only when she could hear the way she was panting—actually panting—that she realized there was no music piped in. It was hushed and quiet here.

“There will be no hiding,” she whispered, to test it. And her own voice seemed unduly loud.

She felt drunk, she realized then. That was different than shakiness, and better, in a way. It made her feel less fragile, and more liquid.

Jenny stared at herself in the mirror that took up the whole of the wall over the sink, and there was absolutely no doubt in her mind that Dylan knew it was right there. And more, that she would be doing exactly this as she decided whether or not to do what he’d asked.

And just as she found him difficult to recognize tonight, she looked like a different version of herself, too. Her eyes were wide and her pupils were dilated. Her hair was full and wavier than usual, because his hands had been in it.

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