by L.H. Cosway
“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?”
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 somethi
ng.
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.
“Are you on the pill?” he asked breathlessly.
I nodded. “Yes, but we still need—”
“I haven’t been with anyone since you,” he blurted and I froze, stunned.
I hadn’t been with anyone either. I only stayed on the pill because it helped with my periods, but Dylan . . .
A lone, unexpected tear ran down my cheek as I whispered, “Me neither.”
Dylan’s expression mirrored my own. What a fine pair we made. Everything had been so wonderfully effortless between us, so perfect that we’d ruined each other for anyone else. Without another word, he pulled my underwear down just enough and pushed inside me. I gasped at how he filled me and closed my eyes to bury my face in his neck. Dylan’s thrusts were hard and fast, somehow fucking me and making love to me all at once.
His mouth found mine, and he kissed me with so much passion I felt like I might burst with it. He broke the kiss and held my eyes when he came.
He was so bloody beautiful.
“I love you, Ev,” he breathed.
That was it. He was going to break me. More tears streamed down my face. Dylan made soothing noises, kissed away my tears. By the time morning light streamed through the curtains, I was certain he’d kissed every inch of my body. I lay next to him, the sounds of his deep breathing filling the room as he slept, and knew I had to leave.
Last night had been the perfect goodbye. I didn’t want to sully it with an awkward, possibly regretful morning after. As quietly as I could manage, I climbed out of bed and got dressed. I stared at Dylan while he slept and knew there was something I needed to say to him. I just didn’t have the courage to do it in person.
There was no paper in the room, no pens either. I managed to find a pencil and an unused envelope in my bag. On the back of the envelope, I wrote a message.
Dylan,
Last night was beautiful. Thank you for giving that to me. As I’m writing this, I miss you already, and you’re so close to me, fast asleep. I want to tell you that I think you’re incredible. You’re clever and talented and caring and people deserve to know you. So please, don’t hang on to the past. When you go back to LA, start living your life, meet people, get laid, make mistakes, and fall in love.
And if you won’t do it for yourself, do it for me.
Love always,
Evelyn.
I blinked and a tear fell down, staining the paper. I placed the note on the dresser, then quietly left the room. When I got outside, the cold morning air assaulted me, and my heart felt like someone had beaten it with a meat tenderiser. The bus driver gave me a funny look, as I hopped on the 151 that would take me home, my face red from crying. I’d meant everything I said in that note, and now I truly knew how it felt to do something selfless.
Because letting Dylan go a second time was the most painful, heartbreaking thing in the world.
Chapter 7
Present
Monday 10:34 [email protected] to [email protected]
You up to much today?
Monday 10:41 [email protected] to dylanod@dylanscents
Not really. Just working on my screenplay ;-)
Monday 10:44 [email protected] to [email protected]
Is it raunchy? The winky face infers raunchiness.
Monday 10:46 [email protected] to dylanod@dylanscents
Nah, it’s about two dudes who work in an HMV.
Monday 10:47 [email protected] to [email protected]
Okay. I’m hooked.
Monday 10:53 [email protected] to dylanod@dylanscents
So, their names are Johnny and Eddy. Eddy’s the nerdy one. He has a crush on this girl who comes into the store sometimes. Her name’s Vanessa, but she already has a boyfriend and won’t give Eddy the time of day.
Monday 10:56 [email protected] to [email protected]
Poor Eddy.
Monday 11:00 [email protected] to dylanod@dylanscents
I know. Johnny’s the cool one, but dumb as a stump. Everybody likes him even though he’s always slapping girls on the arse and calling them sugartits. Anyhoo, one day, Johnny and Eddy are in the storage room and they find this dusty old VCR player with a videotape inside. They press play, but all they get is a squiggly static screen. The fuzzy sound gets really loud and then all of a sudden, they’re transported back to the 1500s. They’re still in their HMV uniforms, so everyone’s looking at them funny.
Monday 11:02 [email protected] to [email protected]
Well, of course.
Monday 11:08 [email protected] to dylanod@dylanscents
Luckily for them, they’re already in the market place, so they steal some clothes from a merchant’s stall. The guy spots them right as they’re walking away and starts shaking his fist in anger. They run off then bump into this girl who, get this, looks exactly like Vanessa.
Monday 11:12 [email protected] to [email protected]
SHUT UP.
Monday 11:16 [email protected] to dylanod@dylanscents
Yep. Only her name isn’t Vanessa. It’s Shanessa. To Eddy’s delight, she fancies him right away and wants to get married. But then Johnny’s all, sorry, babe, he can’t marry you. We have to get back to our own time period. Eddy’s like, how the hell are we supposed to do that? Johnny goes, it’s simple. We need to find Leonardo da Vinci. He’ll build us a time machine, so we can go back home. Conveniently, they’re already in Italy.
Monday 11:20 [email protected] to [email protected]
I question Johnny’s knowledge of Leonardo da Vinci . . .
Monday 11:24 [email protected] to dylanod@dylanscents
He watched a documentary once. But anyway, before Da Vinci come the hijinks. They wind up fighting a duel with a medieval knight to defend the honour of a fair maiden. They also attend an audience with the king, and convince him to charge his people less tax. They even set Shanessa up with a guy they meet who, get this, looks exactly like Eddy.
Monday 11:27 [email protected] to [email protected]
Okay, now I’m dubious.
Monday 11:32 [email protected] to dylanod@dylanscents
No really. It’s perfectly logical. So, after all these good deeds, they finally go on their journey to find old Leo. Cue the fun montage. He turns out to be a kindly old gent who’s more than happy to invent thei
r time machine. When they get home, Eddy has a newfound confidence that has Vanessa eyeing him lustily. She drops her boyfriend and they ride off into the sunset.
Monday 11:36 [email protected] to [email protected]
What about Johnny?
Monday 11:41 [email protected] to dylanod@dylanscents
Johnny’s still dumb as rocks, but he’s a real popular guy, so life is good. The movie ends with him trying to peek down some girl’s blouse and she slaps him across the face. Everybody’s like typical Johnny and they get a real good chuckle out of it. Roll end credits.
Monday 10:56 [email protected] to [email protected]
Man, if this was 1989, that script would’ve sold like hotcakes.
Monday 11:10 [email protected] to dylanod@dylanscents
I know, right?
* * *
That was just one of many conversations I’d had with Dylan over the last two weeks. It was so weird to be able to message him whenever I felt like it and we could shoot the shit. Talk about any random crap that came into our heads. It was nice to be silly sometimes, and it was really helping me focus on the positive. Life didn’t always have to be so serious and dark. It could be ridiculous and funny and generally pleasant.
After the meal we shared in his office, I hadn’t seen Dylan in person. He was always so busy, but tonight we were finally going out. He, Yvonne, Conor, and I. Since we’d only been communicating electronically, I was both nervous and excited to see him in person.
“Do you know where they’re taking us?” Yvonne asked as I sat by her dresser putting make-up on. My room, which was more of a glorified storage closet, didn’t have space for such luxuries.
“I’m not sure.”
“Do you think I should wear my red dress?”
“Yeah, go for it.”
“It’s not too risqué?”
“No, you look gorgeous in it,” I said, attempting to reassure her. Yvonne was always indecisive when it came to clothes. She didn’t like to look like she was on display, which I completely understood, but still. At thirty-nine, she was even more attractive than she’d been in her twenties. I guess being a non-smoker and a very light drinker all your life paid off.