I scribble edits in my manuscript, trying desperately to focus.
Dylan hasn't spoken to me, or acknowledged me, at all today. He swivels around in his chair, occasionally chewing on the end of his pen. I know he sees me staring, but he doesn't meet my gaze.
I'm dying to talk to him; to ask him what the hell happened between us. Does he even know? He's insulted and snapped at me countless times, so why did he lean in and kiss me?
And why on earth did I enjoy it?
"Psst."
I snap my gaze away from Dylan over to Oliver.
"You all right?" He questions.
I nod distantly, clicking my red pen. "Just distracted," I mumble.
Oliver smirks. "By Wilson?"
I quickly shake my head. "Oh, no. Just...this manuscript is shit." I laugh shakily.
Oliver chuckles. "Yeah, every once in awhile you get a flop. You best just toss it now and get to the good ones."
I nod. "Thanks."
Oliver returns to his own work and my eyes flick to the clock on the wall. 10:30. Lunch break isn't for another hour and a half. I decide I need coffee and get up to make my way to the break room.
Luckily, the pot of coffee on the machine is still warm, and I pour myself a mug. I flash back to when Dylan and I had tea together, and couldn't stop laughing.
I shake away the memory and add milk to my coffee. The warm drink coats my throat and I instantly feel a bit calmer.
Someone enters the break room and I turn, half expecting to see Dylan. Instead I find Sarah, who shoots me a friendly smile. Her soft blonde locks are curled into pretty waves and her blue eyes squint as she smiles.
"Any more coffee left?" She asks, peering into the pot.
"A bit," I reply, leaning against the counter.
"It's just a coffee kind of day, isn't it?"
"I couldn't agree more."
We laugh a bit as Sarah pours herself a mug. She tucks some hair behind her ear and leans next to me on the counter.
"So," she says, a cheeky smile crossing her lips. "Oliver is taking me out to dinner Friday night." She blushes and looks into her coffee.
I shover her shoulder lightly, my jaw dropping. "Seriously? That's amazing!"
She laughs and nods, her cheeks a rosy pink.
"When did he ask you?" I inquire.
"Yesterday, after work. He was so nervous, you should have seen," she gushes.
"How cute," I say, grinning.
Sarah nods and blushes again. "So, how's James, then?" She wiggles her eyebrows up and down and I laugh.
"He's pretty well," I reply, my smile fading. "We're still working through some things, I guess."
Sarah nods, her brow furrowing. "I hope everything works out," she says earnestly.
I don't.
"Me too," I say, ignoring my thoughts.
Sarah sighs and grins. "Well, back to work."
"I expect full details after Friday," I say as we exit the break room.
"Of course!" She chirps, walking back to her workspace.
I slide back into my seat, setting my coffee on my desk. Dylan doesn't acknowledge me, yet again. Shocker.
I don't know why I'm bothered so much; it was just a kiss. He probably didn't even mean it. I didn't mean it. It was just a petty mistake.
I grab a post-it note from my desk and scribble a note to Dylan. I just need closure on what happened between us and everything will be back to normal.
Can we talk at lunch?
I ball it up and toss it to his desk. It lands right next to his arm. He lifts his head to look at the paper, then at me. He doesn't break my gaze as he uses his arm to push the unopened note into the trashcan next to his desk.
"Get to work, Katie," he says flatly before looking back down to his own work.
Dylan telling me to get to work?
How the tables have turned.
I begrudgingly look back at my manuscript. I read the same sentence three times before I actually comprehend what it says.
Twelve noon rolls around and I organize my desk before I have to go to the break room for lunch. Dylan doesn't move from his desk.
"Katie!"
I turn in my seat and break into a smile at the sight of James. He stands by the reception desk, grinning.
I shoot up from my desk, walking over and throwing my arms around his neck. I breathe in the familiar scent of his cologne and sigh.
"What are you doing here?" I ask as we pull away.
"I wanted to make up for how I haven't exactly been here for you," he says.
Yeah, no shit.
I nod slowly.
"So I brought you lunch." He holds up a brown bag with the words "Einstein's Bagels" on it.
"Einstein's has the best bagels in Edinburgh," James says proudly.
I smile and kiss him on the cheek. "Thank you," I say. "This was really thoughtful of you."
He shrugs. "You deserve it, Katie."
As I lead James to the break room, all my prior anger seems to wash away. He does care about me, of course he does. Why did I ever think otherwise? He's so caring and thoughtful, his job is just very demanding.
We sit down at a table, and I feel a pang of guilt in my chest as I remember how Dylan and I kissed. Without a doubt, James would dump me if he ever found out.
Oh, well. What James doesn't know won't hurt him, right?
James opens the brown bag and brings out two bagels, one for each of us. We start eating, making small talk.
"Didn't I tell you they were the best?" James asks, a boastful smile on his face.
I just nod and smile, continuing to eat. We make small conversation through the meal. I tell him about the manuscript I'm editing, and he tells me about his internship. No matter how hard I try, I can't get Dylan's mocking words out of my mind as James goes on and on about the possible warning signs of cardiac arrest.
My coworkers file in and out of the break room around us, and I keep a watchful eye out for Dylan. The last thing I need is for Dylan telling James about the kiss.
It's not like I kissed him first. He kissed me.
I hear someone enter the room and my eyes fly to the door. My pulse quickens when the familiar fiery jade gaze lands on mine.
Dylan saunters over to the fridge, casually opening it. James seems to recognize Dylan and my heart drops to the pit of my stomach when he says, "hey, Dylan, right?"
Dylan looks at James from over the fridge door. He straightens his posture and grabs a Diet Coke from the fridge before shutting it slowly. "Yeah," he says. "That's right."
I swallow.
"Nice to see you, man," James says.
"You, too," Dylan replies coolly.
"Want to join us?"
I refrain from smacking James across the face.
I look at Dylan.
Please say no. Please say no. Please say n--
"Sure," Dylan says, a smile spreading across his face as he slides into the seat across from me. I mentally snap James's neck.
Dylan opens his Diet Coke can, taking a long sip. I chew on my lip worriedly as James finishes eating his bagel.
"So how's the internship going?"
"Pretty good," James replies.
"Well," Dylan says.
"Pardon?"
"It's going pretty well."
I almost laugh, but manage to keep the smile off my face. Dylan correcting James's grammar?
"I stand corrected," James laughs.
Dylan just smirks wider and I stare at the table. Grinding my internal organs in a blender would be more comfortable than this conversation.
"So what have you two been up to?" James asks.
I freeze, snapping my gaze up. Dylan swallows carefully.
"W-what?" I ask.
"Around the office," James says. "How's work going?"
I sigh in relief and Dylan leans back in his seat. That was too close.
"Very well," I say and Dylan nods.
"Cool, cool," James says, nodding. He looks at Dylan. "You're an accountant,
right?"
Dylan nods. "That I am."
"So you're like, a math nerd?"
I face palm.
"A math nerd," Dylan repeats slowly.
"Yeah, you know. Like on TV."
The more James talks, the more stupid he sounds. I've never felt so embarrassed for someone else in my life.
"I don't think I am a 'math nerd' like on TV," Dylan says.
James laughs. "I'm just teasing, bro."
Dylan licks his lips. "Of course." He crosses his arms over his chest. "On the subject of teasing," he says. "How's that internship going? You know, the one that you don't get paid for?" Dylan smirks. "It's 'pretty good,' I hear?"
I glare at Dylan, begging him to stop talking. This is the worst possible scenario.
"Look, bro, I didn't mean to offend you or anything," James says, laughing shakily.
"I'm not offended," Dylan says, shrugging. "I'm just teasing...bro." A mean grin spreads across Dylan's lips.
I can't take it anymore. I stand from my seat, glaring at Dylan.
"Lunch break's over soon," I say to James. "I'll walk you to your car." I shoot a venomous gaze at Dylan, but he only smiles wider.
James nods and throws away our trash before following me out of the break room. I'm so angry at Dylan, I can barely keep my calm.
James and I take the elevator down to the lobby and walk out into the parking lot. The cool autumn air doesn't seem to soothe my temper, however.
"I'm sorry that Dylan is such a douche," I say as we stop at James's car.
James shrugs. "He was just kidding, I get it."
No, he wasn't.
I smile. "Thanks for bringing me lunch," I say as he steps toward me and kisses my cheek.
"No problem. It's good to see you, Katie."
"When can I see you again?"
James avoids my gaze. "Uh...probably not until the weekend. Work is swamped."
I nod. "Oh."
"Yeah...sorry, Katie."
"Don't worry about it." I kiss him on the lips softly before he gets into his car. My mind automatically compares the small kiss to my kiss with Dylan, and I quickly shake my head to clear the outrageous thought.
James slips on sunglasses and pulls out of the lot. I wave goodbye before turning and walking back into the building.
My previous anger with Dylan builds back up as I walk into the office. I find him still in the break room, playing on his phone. His opened Diet Coke sits in front of him. He looks up when I walk in.
"What the hell is the matter with you?" I snap at him.
He raises his eyebrows at my outburst, locking his phone. "Pardon?"
"How could you say that to James? What did he ever do to you?"
A taunting grin replaces the shock on Dylan's face.
"Stop smiling like that!" I yell at him. Thank God no one else is in the break room to witness this.
"Will you calm down, Katherine," Dylan says, standing. He rises to his full height before me.
"No, I will not calm down. You purposefully made fun of James right in front of him!"
"So?"
I search for words. I open my mouth, then clamp it shut. "You're a real jerk, Dylan," I finally sneer before turning and storming out of the break room.
"Ooh, you got me there, Katie. You've never called me a jerk before. Was expecting something more creative!"
It takes me a good twenty five minutes to calm down. I sit at my desk, staring at my manuscript and mulling over my pure hatred for Dylan.
Four o'clock rolls around and I drive home without a word to anyone. I feel Dylan's eyes on me from the sidewalk as I start my car and drive away from Crane.
I fumble for my keys when I get home and stick it in the lock of my apartment door, twisting it. I furrow my brow when I find the door is unlocked. That's odd, I could have sworn I locked it this morning.
When I push open the door to my apartment, I scream.
Chapter Twenty Nine
My apartment is utterly ruined.
Everything is strewn from its place. Books lay open on the floor, pillows and blankets from the couch are everywhere. The cabinets in the kitchen are thrown open and pots and pans lie in random places. The window is thrown wide open, the lilac curtains billowing in the breeze. Glass lays on the floor, shattered.
I rush into my bedroom. My bed that was neatly made this morning is disheveled. The sheets are wrinkled and the pillows are all over the place. The picture of James and I lies cracked on the floor.
Tears build behind my eyes as I struggle to get my phone out of my purse.
I bustle around the apartment, scouting for anything missing. It baffles me when I find that everything--aside from some plates and other china that lie broken on the floor--is here.
There's a harsh knock at the door and Dylan steps into my apartment, worry on his face.
"Katie? What--" He takes in the appearance of my home and shuts his mouth. A piece of paper is crumpled in his fist.
I sit on the couch and bury my head in my hands. "I-I think I've been robbed," I mumble. "But it doesn't seem like anything's missing."
I feel Dylan sit beside me. He puts a soothing arm around my shoulders and I find myself leaning onto him, soaking his fresh t-shirt in salty tears.
"Who would have done this?" I ask. "Why would they just ransack the apartment and leave?"
Dylan stiffens beside me. He stands up, turning his back to me as he looks out the bay window of the living room. He still clenches the paper in his fist. I wonder what it says.
"Dylan?" I ask slowly.
Dylan turns slightly, looking at the floor. "It was..." He clears his throat. "Alec and his men."
My breath hitches in my throat and my blood goes cold. "What?"
"They came here because they think you know something," Dylan rattles off, beginning to pace. "They think you're hiding information. They're assuming I've told you confidential facts, and they're damn bloody wrong!" Dylan's voice crescendos.
I frown. "What do we do?"
Dylan stops pacing and looks at me. "We stay away from each other," he answers simply.
He Looked Back Page 13
