Chapter 28
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
DYLAN
Mia’s flat has a comforting aroma of coffee and lavender. It’s a weird combination, but somehow it suits her. Warm but clean and a little sharp around the edges.
I follow her inside, half-soaked from the rain, my trainers squeaking faintly against the wooden floor. She disappears into the kitchen, dropping her coat over the back of a chair, and I hover awkwardly in the doorway, unsure if I’m supposed to sit, stand, or evaporate.
She’s a little too quiet.
I rub the back of my neck and glance around the small space.
The sofa has a folded blanket draped just so, everywhere is neat and tidy.
Photos in mismatched frames sit on a narrow shelf; one of her and a woman who looks just like her but older, probably her mum.
Another of her and a short grinning girl with curly hair and a bottle of wine between them; Sophie.
It’s her. This whole place feels like Mia. Thoughtful and practical. No clutter, just purpose. Like she doesn’t let herself get too comfortable, even in her own home.
“You can sit down, you know.” Her voice drifts in from the kitchen, a little sharper than necessary.
I nod even though she can’t see me. “Right.”
I drop onto the edge of the sofa like it’s going to bite me. Rest my elbows on my knees and stare at the floor while she clinks mugs around and starts the kettle. I shouldn’t be here. She didn’t really invite me in, not properly. It just happened.
And now she’s second-guessing it. I can feel it in the air.
She walks in with two mugs a minute later and hands me one without meeting my eye. Her fingers brush mine, and I feel it like a goddamn lightning bolt. I grip the mug tighter and take a sip, just to have something to do.
She sits opposite me on the armchair. Legs crossed, mug cradled in both hands like a shield. We’re quiet for a long beat. The rain patters lightly against the window, and I can hear the hum of her fridge and the soft tick of the clock above her TV.
I should say something. I should break the tension. But she does it first. “I shouldn’t have let you in.”
My stomach drops. I nod slowly. “I know.”
She swallows, allowing her eyes to flick up to mine. “But I didn’t want you to leave.”
It’s a huge turnaround from the speech she gave me in the car a few moments ago and it hits harder than I expect. I shift forward, my elbows still on my knees. “You think I don’t get it, but I do, Mia. You’ve got more to lose than I do if this goes wrong.”
She flinches at that, just barely, but it’s there.
“But what if it doesn’t go wrong?” I say quietly.
Her lips press into a line. “You’re not a safe bet, Dylan.”
That stings. But it’s not unfair. I know the press have painted a very low image of me, and there’s hundreds of photos of me with a God knows how many different women. I only have myself to blame for that, so I let the words sit for a second before I answer.
“I know I’m not. But I’m not gonna hurt you. Not on purpose. And I’m not playing a game.” It’s the honest truth.
Mia doesn’t answer. Just stares at her coffee like it might offer some absolution. Then she stands and I track her with my eyes as she walks to the window, then back to me, with her arms folded tight across her chest.
“I keep replaying last night in my head,” she says softly. “The kiss. The way it felt.” She turns slightly, enough for me to see her profile. “It scared the hell out of me.”
I set the mug down. My heart’s doing that stupid thing again, like it’s trying to escape my ribcage.
She turns around fully, her gaze locked on mine now, and it’s different. Not guarded. Not closed-off.
Raw.
“I keep pushing you away because I’m scared I’ll screw this up, or lose everything I’ve worked for,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper. “But I can’t stop wanting you.”
I stand before I even know I’m going to. I take two slow steps toward her. “Mia,”
But she closes the space between us first. She reaches for me, her hands fisting the fabric of my hoodie, pulling me down, and then she kisses me.
No hesitation. No apology.
Just heat, and urgency, and that soft little gasp she makes when my hands find her waist.
I freeze for a second, stunned. It’s the first time she’s kissed me. The first time she’s let herself choose this.
And I’m gone.
My mouth moves with hers like I’ve been waiting for this exact moment since the day we met. Her fingers tangle in my hair, and I hold her like I’m scared she’ll vanish if I let go.
But she doesn’t pull away.
Not until the kiss softens, and slows, and then she rests her forehead against mine. Her breath is warm against my lips, and her hands still curled in my hoodie.
“Shit,” she whispers.
I smile. “That good, huh?”
She swats my chest lightly, but there’s a smile tugging at her lips too. “I mean it. This changes everything.”
I pull back enough to see her face. “Only if we let it.”
Her eyes search mine like she’s looking for something solid to cling to. Something safe. I offer what I’ve got. It might not be perfect, but it’s real.
“I’m not asking for everything, Mia,” I say softly. “Just something.”
She breathes out, slow and shaky, then nods. “One more coffee,” she says. “And no kissing after.”
I grin. “Sure. One more coffee. No kissing.”
She raises a brow. I raise both hands. “Scout’s honour.”
Then she turns and walks toward the kitchen again, and I follow her with my eyes, smiling like an idiot, because I’ve already decided I’m going to kiss her again.
Just not yet. I’ll let her have this moment. Let her trust in the rules she’s setting.
I’ll follow them. Until she decides to break them again.