Dylan didn’t respond.
An ugly part of him wondered if Sarah had come to this exact same coffee shop with Bill earlier. He knew it was a stupid thing to worry about, but he couldn’t help himself. He was getting lost in his own head. It’d been more than a decade since Dylan felt any damn thing at all, much less a possessiveness that he couldn’t explain. When it came to Sarah, he was assaulted with somewhat foreign emotions. He honestly wasn’t sure he liked them all that much. The feelings, that was.
In order to keep his brain occupied, he tried to recall all the things Sarah had said about her and Bill. How they’d met, how long they’d been seeing each other. Why she’d started seeing him in the first place. His thoughts were getting away from him.
“How long have you known this Bill guy?” he found himself asking while the waitress poured their coffee.
Sarah looked up at him for the first time since they’d stepped into the coffee shop, her blue eyes checking him out, probably trying to figure out why he was so curious. Truth was, he didn’t even know.
“About five months.”
Five months was a long damn time. Hell, it was three months longer than they’d dated in high school. Then again, two months was an eternity to a hormonal teenager.
“But you haven’t slept with him?” he asked, taking both cups of coffee the woman handed over before turning toward the small counter holding the various accoutrements for customers to use to fix up their beverage of choice.
“Keep your voice down,” she warned, glancing around.
There was no one else there except for the two of them, but he smiled anyway. “I’ll try.”
“And, no,” she replied, a little too defensively. “I haven’t slept with him.”
“Why not?”
“Are you serious?” she questioned softly.
“As a heart attack.”
“I didn’t like him like that.”
“But you liked him enough to let him surprise you by taking you to a sex club?”
Her eyes narrowed on him and Dylan knew he was pushing too far. Maybe he was the nervous one.
Sarah tore open two packets of Equal, then dumped the contents into her cup. “You really want to get into this now?”
Not really, but for some damn reason, he couldn’t help himself. “Yeah. I do.”
“Why do you care, Dylan?”
Okay, so he’d definitely pushed too far. He’d gone and pissed her off.
“I don’t know,” he admitted, sipping his coffee. It was true. He had no fucking clue why he cared, but he did. He cared a hell of a lot more than he’d ever expected to.
Her hands stilled as she poured creamer into her coffee. “He was a nice guy. I thought if I got to know him things might … progress.” After picking up her coffee, she left the small coffee shop and went back out into the main part of the hotel.
Dylan followed. “But they didn’t,” he muttered. “You were just leading him on?”
“What?” Sarah turned to face him, stopping so fast he nearly stumbled into her.
“You heard me,” he said, that strangely jealous feeling gripping his insides. “Was it because of me?”
Shit. He hadn’t meant to say that, but he wanted to know. No, the truth was, he wanted her to tell him that, yes, she hadn’t been with Bill because of him. It was a completely absurd thing to want to hear, but the primal part of him needed to.
“What do you want from me, Dylan?” There was a banked fury dancing in the pretty blue eyes staring back at him. “Are you trying to piss me off?”
“Maybe.”
Damn it. Again, he hadn’t meant to say anything.
He was so out of practice when it came to women. Leave it to him to royally fuck up a perfectly good evening.
“Why?” She sounded pissed.
“I don’t fucking know,” he huffed.
“Well, then don’t.” She stared at him for a moment. “You know what? I think this was a mistake.” Sarah stormed off, rushing to the bank of elevators that led to the hotel floors, but not before Dylan saw tears in her eyes.
Jesus Christ. What the hell was wrong with him?
Just when the elevator doors would’ve closed, leaving him behind, Dylan stuck his arm between them, keeping them from shutting all the way. He joined her inside, never taking his eyes off her. Regrettably, there were three other people on the elevator, so she wouldn’t have to talk to him and he wouldn’t get the chance to apologize for his less than stellar behavior.
Damn, he sure knew how to derail a perfectly good night.
The tension in the small space increased with every passing floor. They stopped twice, allowing two of the occupants off, and then finally they reached the twentieth floor. Her floor, he assumed.
Before the doors had even fully opened, Sarah exited, and he said a quick good night to the elderly man still on the elevator before slipping out behind her. By the time she was halfway down the long hallway, Dylan was keeping pace beside her, not saying a word.
“What do you want?” she hissed as she ran the key card through the door reader and then pushed open her door. “I don’t have anything to say to you.” Without a second glance, she stomped inside, allowing the door to close behind her as she went to the dresser and set her coffee cup down. He was clearly being dismissed.
Or he would’ve been if he hadn’t pretended to ignore her obvious attempt to brush him off. He wasn’t about to let her shut him out. Not yet anyway.
Although he’d said far more than he’d intended to tonight, he knew this conversation was a long time coming. What had happened between them three years ago… It was obvious he wasn’t the only one who remembered that night. Those emotions she evoked in him weren’t easy to push aside, even though he’d been doing so for longer than he cared to admit.
Now, it was time they faced the music and figured out once and for all where, if anywhere, this thing between them was headed. As much as he wanted to indulge himself for one night with Sarah, Dylan knew that wasn’t him. He wanted more than one night. A hell of a lot more.
Not making a sound, he allowed the door to close behind him, then set his coffee cup on the bathroom counter. He stood there, staring at her as she inhaled deeply, then released the breath slowly, her shoulders squaring.
He was pretty sure she thought he’d stayed out in the hall.
Dylan watched as she picked up her coffee, took a sip, then turned around. He met her gaze, held it. He sensed that she was surprised to see him standing there, but she didn’t say as much. Anger ignited in her eyes, and he knew she was fighting back the frustration. He couldn’t blame her.
Yet he couldn’t help but think that she was so damn cute when she was pissed.
Then it hit him. Just as she’d mentioned earlier, there were two beds in this room. “Why do you have your own room? Why weren’t you staying with Bill?” he asked when he didn’t notice anything that could possibly belong to a man.
Glancing around, it looked as though she was trying to figure out how he would know that.