I push my mug of tea away. "I'm sorry," I say. "I'll just go home--"
"No, don't go." He looks up. "Don't go. You can stay."
We stare into each other's eyes for a few moments. The green in Dylan's irises is laced with worry.
I nod and pull my tea back.
Dylan begins stirring his tea again, his eyes cast down. I can practically see the gears turning in his brain.
"I don't love him," I say out of the blue.
Dylan looks up, his brow furrowed. "What?"
"I don't love James," I say. "Hell, I'm not even sure I like him."
Dylan stares at me.
"He's not even a real doctor," I go on. "He's just an intern." A laugh escapes my lips. I start laughing more and before I know it, I'm laughing hysterically, tears streaming from my eyes.
Dylan watches all of this confusedly before smiling. His smile turns into a chuckle, which turns into loud laughter. We must look like a pair of fools, laughing hysterically over tea at three in the morning.
"He even treats it like a real job!" I shout over my laughter. "He doesn't even get paid!" I lean on the cool counter, my stomach aching from laughing so hard.
I don't know how long Dylan and I laugh together. It seems like an eternity, though; a blissful eternity.
Our laughter finally dies down and my body aches. Dylan looks over at me.
"Why did you say you loved him, then?" He asks as if we had never laughed at all.
"I wanted to upset you," I say, and instantly bite my lip. The words seemed to flow from me before I could think. There must be something in this tea.
Dylan smiles, and then starts laughing again. I laugh, too. I don't think I've ever laughed so much in my life over so little.
I watch Dylan as he laughs. His dimples carve into his cheeks and he throws back his head, his green eyes squinting. It's a lovely sight to see Dylan laugh.
Our laughter dies down and I notice that I've drained my tea. Dylan has, too.
"Do you want to hear a secret?" Dylan asks me, leaning toward me on his elbows.
"Sure."
"I don't think you're pretentious. I actually think you're the nicest person I've ever met." The words seem to slip from Dylan. There is definitely something in this tea. He puts a hand over his mouth and I giggle.
"Well, I think you're good on the inside," I say. "Even if you're an asshole ninety percent of the time."
Dylan giggles too. We sound like a bunch of high schoolers laughing about a dirty joke.
"Honestly, what did you put in this tea?" I ask Dylan as he puts our empty mugs into the dishwasher.
"My mum used to make it for me when I was sad," he tells me. "It relaxes you so much you don't think about what you say, apparently."
"Is it authentic?" I ask.
"What do you mean?"
"Is it really from England?"
"Hell no. It's from Seven Eleven."
We burst into laughter again. My mouth hurts from smiling so much.
"I didn't know they sold tea at Seven Eleven," I say.
"I don't know. From the way we're acting, you'd think they put crack in it."
We howl with laughter again. I wipe tears from my eyes.
I press my cheek to the cool counter, my eyes still on Dylan. The hours I spent awake tonight are beginning to catch up to me and I yawn.
Dylan rises to his full height, off of his elbows. "Come on, you can sleep on the couch. If it makes you feel safer."
I straighten up. "No, it's fine, I'll go home."
Dylan raises an eyebrow. "If you go, will you really sleep?"
I know he's right. I yawn again and Dylan half smiles. He turns and walks into another room, coming back into the living room with a pillow and blanket. He arranges them on the couch.
"This is a one time thing," he warns me. My heart sinks at his cold attitude returning, but his eyes are humorous and I relax.
I roll my eyes, sinking down onto the couch. "Good," I say. "I don't want any more of your convenient store tea."
Dylan laughs again and bids me goodnight, walking back into his room. I notice he leaves the door open.
I curl up on the couch, taking a deep breath. The pillow Dylan gave me smells like him. I inhale the mix of cologne and spearmint, burying my face in the fabric.
I fall asleep instantly, feeling safer than I ever have before.
Chapter Twenty One
I awake to a fierce pounding noise.
I groan and pull the pillow over my head. It's Saturday, who's at the door?
That's when I remember where I am.
I hear the door creak open.
"Can I help you?" Dylan asks, his voice raspy from sleep.
"Yeah, have you seen Katie anywhere? She hasn't been answering her phone and she doesn't seem to be home."
I widen my eyes.
James.
Oh shit.
"Uh..." Dylan trails off.
I peek over the top of the couch. Dylan leans against the door, scratching the back of his neck nervously. If James comes in here, he'll draw conclusions quickly and assume that Dylan and I...ugh. The thought makes me shudder.
Lie, I command Dylan mentally. Lie to him.
"She probably went out to get coffee," Dylan says. "She usually has it at work, but it's the weekend, so..."
"Oh. Right."
I breathe out a sigh of relief.
"What was that?"
I freeze. James heard that?
"My...cat," Dylan says.
"I didn't know pets were allowed in the building."
"They're not. It's a secret. Shh."
I cover my mouth to keep myself from laughing at Dylan's lie.
"Can I see it?"
"No, it's one of the hairless ones. Really gross looking. And it...has rabies."
"Shouldn't you get checked out, then? Rabies is pretty serious."
"Look, mate, I appreciate your concern, but--"
The door swings open and James walks in, his eyes immediately landing on me. He widens his eyes, anger filling them quickly.
"Katie?" He asks in disbelief.
I shoot up from the couch. "James."
"What the hell are you doing here?"
Dylan looks on, his eyes locked on me.
"It's a long story," I say.
"I've got time."
"Oh, really? Because you never seem to have time for anything else!"
"Katie--"
"You were supposed to pick me up from work twice. Twice! And you blew me off for reasons I still don't know!"
"So you think the solution is to sleep with your neighbor?"
My jaw drops. Dylan tries not to laugh and I shoot him a glare.
"I didn't sleep with anyone!" I shout.
"Then explain this!" James yells.
I recoil. I can't tell James about what happened when I was walking home. I know it's important that I keep it a secret, for Dylan's and my sake.
"Dylan gave me a ride home and I fell asleep in the car," I lie. Well, it's partially true.
James looks at Dylan and he nods.
"I can't believe you would accuse me of that," I say to James, crossing my arms over my chest. "Dylan and I barely know each other."
The expression on Dylan's face is unreadable.
"Come on, Katie. Let's go," James says, reaching for my hand. I snatch it away from him.
"Go where?" I ask. "Out to lunch so you can ditch me halfway through for your job?"
"I can't help it if I'm on call," James defends.
"Oh, bullshit!" I shout. "You don't even have a real job! You're an intern!"
I hate for the two of them to see me like this, especially Dylan. I know I'm making a horrible impression on him, to add to the already shitty impression he has of me. Well, it's not like I have a spotless impression of him, either.
"It is a real job! It's much more important than yours, anyway!"
"Then why do I get paid, and you don't?" I rebut. James narrows his eyes.
>
"Look, Katie, I don't know what's up with you, but when you decide to act like less of a bitch, give me a call," James snaps. He turns on his heel and stalks out of the apartment, the door swinging shut behind him.
I sink down onto the couch and put my head in my hands. I hear Dylan walk around the couch and sit across from me on the coffee table.
"For the record, I think you had a few good shots in there," he says.
I shake my head. I feel so guilty for speaking that way to James. If anything, I'm the one that should be getting yelled at. I almost kissed Dylan when he drove me home the first time. I slept on his couch last night. I've continued to interact with him when I've told myself multiple times my life would be easier without him in it.
"I think I'm going to go," I say, standing and walking towards the door. Dylan watches me with hooded eyes. "Thanks for...everything."
I don't know what came over me. I walk back to my apartment, finding it unlocked. I curse myself for not locking it last night and walk inside.
I take a shower and change into my clothes for the day. I'm still slightly on edge after my brief attack the other night, trying to push the paranoid thoughts from my mind.
I feel horrible about James. I'm upset and disappointed in myself, and I need to apologize to him for the way I acted. I was way out of line.
My mind shifts to Dylan.
The way we laughed together the other night was so...natural. Maybe we're in a different place we were before. Maybe we're...friends?
Never in a million years would I have ever thought Dylan and I would be friends. Perhaps I should apologize for stepping out so quickly back there.
I walk out into the hall, knocking on Dylan's door. I wait for a few minutes with no answer. I guess he's not home.
My heart involuntarily sinks.
A thought strikes me. Maybe he's doing laundry?
I take the elevator down to the ground floor and step out, making my way to the laundry room. Sure enough, there is Dylan, dumping too much fabric softener into a washing machine.
"That's too much softener," I tell him, walking up beside him.
"I always use this much," he grumbles.
"Well, you shouldn't."
Dylan shrugs. His expression is unreadable.
"I'm sorry for walking out like that," I say as he shuts the top of the machine. "I was a bit...shocked about what happened with James. And mad. At him, not you."
He shrugs again. "All right."
"So...are we good?"
He looks at me, raising his eyebrows. "Are we good," he repeats.
"Yes..." I say slowly.
"That would imply that we're friends, or something."
I blush. "I thought..."
"Thought what? That we're friends?" Dylan almost laughs. "Let me tell you something, Katie, we're the farthest thing from friends two people can be."
I feel like I've been slapped. "But you let me stay over, and--"
"Katie, I only let you stay over because it was three in the morning and I was half fucking awake!"
I step back. "You're an asshole," I snap.
"Tell me something I don't know," he retorts, turning back to the washing machine and moving his laundry bin to the side.
My cheeks flame as I turn and walk out of the laundry room. How can he be so rude to me, when only last night we were laughing hysterically over practically nothing at all?
Chapter Twenty Two
I sit in my living room, eating dinner and watching TV. It's Sunday night, and I haven't talked to James or Dylan since Saturday morning. I met Sarah for coffee this morning, and we walked around Pioneer Square in downtown Edinburgh for awhile. I'm glad I have a friend in Sarah.
I need to make amends with James, but I don't know when I'm going to be able to do that. I've tried calling him twice, but I got voicemail both times.
I'm angry with Dylan. He was so rude to me yesterday morning, when the night before we were laughing like idiots over tea at three a.m. I like Dylan when he's open like that, it makes me want to know him better and possibly become friends. It seems whenever I think he's actually a decent person, he proves that he's nothing but a jerk.
I've been slightly wary going out alone the past couple days, even though I know I shouldn't be. The two guys that stopped me on the street on Friday still haunt me, but my curiosity burns inside of me like a raging wildfire. Who were they? What does Dylan have to do with them? Why were they after me? What did Dylan mean when he said he was an "accountant"?
I try to escape from the thousands of questions that pester me, but it's useless. I know if I follow Dylan after work again, someone will see and I'll get us both in trouble. If only there was an easier way...
I stop chewing my food. Dylan found out a lot about me from my file. Maybe if I can get ahold of his file, I can get some answers. Maybe not about the two guys and the numbers, but maybe about his background.
No, that's insane. Am I really that desperate for information I would consider sneaking into Crane's office for Dylan's file?
Apparently so.
The idea sparks inside of me like a firework. Tomorrow at work I need an excuse to go to Crane's office and look through his file without being caught. How will I be able to do that?
I've never been very stealthy, and I don't break the rules very often. But I know if I don't get answers soon, I'll explode.
I clean my dishes and text James, asking if he wants to come over. I know he probably won't text back, but I decide that I don't care. If he doesn't want to try to fix this relationship, then so be it.
Surprisingly, I get a text back telling me he'll be here in ten minutes. I quickly buzz around the apartment, cleaning and organizing it. I can't say I'm not nervous. What if James dumps me?
I shouldn't care if he dumps me. And yet, somehow I do.
There's a knock at the door and I swing it open. James shakes rain from his hair and walks inside, sticking his hands into his pockets.
"It's brutal out there," he comments.
I nod as he takes off his jacket, draping it over the couch.
"Can I get you something?" I ask. "Water? Coffee?"
He Looked Back Page 10
