Chapter 19
19
DYLAN
It’s already late afternoon by the time I come back home. This morning, Olivia forgave me the moment I showed up on her doorstep with the apology cookies. We had a nice breakfast together, visited the exhibition she’d been raving about, and afterward, grabbed lunch near Central Park. It was a lovely day, but it still left me unsatisfied.
Maybe it was the sense of everything being so perfectly pleasant, yet lacking that undercurrent of something . I didn’t feel that magnetic pull couples in love are supposed to share, the inexplicable urge to bridge any distance between us, as if gravity itself was bending to keep us close.
It’s not been love at first sight with Olivia, but I’m not in lust with her, either. Between us is more niceness all along. I don’t want to grab her wrists and pin her against a wall to kiss her. I’m not even sure I enjoy spending time with her that much. Today, I never caught myself holding my breath, waiting for her to say something unexpected that would make me laugh. Or wanting to reach for her hand because I needed to touch her.
Instead, being with her gives me this nagging sensation of wrongness I can’t put my finger on. Which is ridiculous, considering I had a perfect-on-paper day with an equally perfect woman.
As I kick off my shoes in the entry hall, my eyes dart to the kitchen, and I do a double take. It’s spotless, without a single dirty dish or speck of flour in sight. I groan, remembering the mess I left behind this morning in my rush to get to Olivia’s. And Hunter had to clean after me— again . Holy shit. The bill at the restaurant last night, and now this. I’m the worst roommate ever.
Guilt gnaws at my insides as I head down the hall to Hunter’s room. Her door is half-open, so I knock, pushing it ajar. She’s seated at her desk, engrossed in her laptop, but she turns when she hears me enter.
“Oh, hi,” she greets me, her dark eyes meeting mine. And that gaze lands straight at the base of my spine. My tailbone is being electrocuted.
I lean against the doorframe, an apologetic expression on my face. “On a scale of one to ten, how much do you hate me for how I left the kitchen?”
To my surprise, a smile tugs at her lips instead of the scowl I’m expecting. “Oh, you mean your avant-garde flour installation?” she quips. “I didn’t have to scrape it. MoMA called, and they picked it up.”
I chuckle, shaking my head. “I can’t believe you cleaned up my baking catastrophe. Sure you don’t hate me, not even a little?”
Her eyes narrow playfully. “Don’t worry, you’re still behind the neighbor who leaves trash in the hallway overnight on my hit list.”
I laugh as relief washes over me at her lighthearted response. “I would like the record to show that I’m really sorry. It won’t happen again.” I run a hand through my hair. “I’ve been stressed lately, but I promise this isn’t me.”
“Well, at least the stress-relief cookies were delicious.” Hunter’s lips quirk. “But maybe next time, try to keep more of the ingredients in the bowl.”
I touch two fingers to my forehead and give her a mock military salute. “Will do. Is it okay if I hop in the shower?”
Hunter nods, gesturing to her laptop. “Yeah, go ahead. I’ve already showered and only need to change.”
With a grateful smile, I head to the bathroom, the tension in my shoulders easing for the first time all week. As the warm water pelts my back, I clear a circle in the fogged-up glass and catch myself grinning like an idiot.
The hot jet is amazing, and I whistle for the rest of the shower until I step out, towel off, and pad to my bedroom. I call Hunter on the way, yelling that the bathroom is free if she needs it. In my room, I change into a fresh pair of jeans and a polo shirt. As I style my hair in the closet mirror, I find I’m looking forward to dinner at Rowena’s new place tonight. Except for Adrian, it’ll be good to be just us, our close group of friends. The people around who I feel most comfortable. When I don’t have to try so hard and can be myself.
Refreshed and ready, I knock on Hunter’s now-closed door. “Hey, are you good to go? The car I booked should arrive soon.”
The door swings open, and the sight of Hunter on the other side turns my lungs into concrete. She’s dressed in a light-blue button-down shirt, the fabric tied at her waist, revealing a tantalizing sliver of skin and that fucking belly ring. The sleeves are rolled up, exposing her delicate wrists adorned with simple gold bracelets. My gaze travels down to her white linen shorts, skimming the tops of her toned thighs, giving her an effortlessly cool vibe. Her dark hair tumbles in lush, beachy waves around her shoulders, and even though she’s not wearing any noticeable makeup, she looks stunning.
“Err…” Speak, Dylan, speak. “You look… definitely ready,” I manage, mentally kicking myself for the lame quip.
Hunter glances down at her outfit, a hint of uncertainty in her onyx-black eyes. “Is there something wrong with what I’m wearing?”
“No, not at all,” I assure her, nodding with conviction. “You look perfect. I mean, your clothes are perfect. For dinner. At Rowena’s.” I’m rambling, but I can’t stop myself.
Hunter’s lips curve into an amused smile. “Okay, great. Let’s head out, then.”
We exit the apartment together and find our ride already waiting for us downstairs. As we slide into the back seat, I’m enveloped by Hunter’s intoxicating perfume. It consumes me in wisps of shadows and secrets, mysterious and magnetic. A whispered invitation, curling into my thoughts like smoke under the moonlight.
I try to focus on the passing city scenery, but my gaze keeps drifting to Hunter’s lithe thighs, tantalizingly bare in those shorts and too close for comfort in the confined space.
The cab ride is nothing short of sweet torture, and I’m relieved when we pull up to Adrian’s building. As Hunter and I step out onto the sidewalk, I spot Tristan and Nina emerging from their own taxi.
“Hey, guys,” Nina calls out, waving. “Ready for an interesting evening?”
“That’s one way to put it.” Tristan chuckles, slipping his arm around Nina’s waist.
I smile at them, glad of having a buffer of people between me and my hot roommate.
Inside the building, the doorman informs us we have to ride all the way to the top. I’d expect nothing less of Adrian West, the Wall Street legend.
The penthouse lives up to the stereotype as well. It’s an apartment that belongs in a magazine, all clean lines and understated luxury. Everything about it screams “expensive,” but I try not to let it intimidate me.
Hunter’s laugh rings through the entryway, warm and genuine as she hugs Rowena, reclaiming my focus. It’s a sound I’ve heard a thousand times, yet tonight, it hits me differently.
When the ladies are done hugging each other, the official introductions begin. I offer Adrian a firm handshake, making sure my smile reaches my eyes. “Great to meet you, man.” I put the right amount of friendliness in my tone.
Adrian matches my grip, his smile easy and confident, and his eyes flashing with… relief? The guy must’ve been nervous about “meeting the friends.” “Likewise,” he responds, and we exchange a few more pleasantries before Rowena ushers us into the living room.
As I follow the group, my gaze shifts to Hunter again. She’s walking ahead of me, her hair catching the suffused light. A lock of it is falling over her eyes and the sudden, inexplicable impulse to brush it behind her ear almost overpowers me. I clench my fists at my sides to stop my hands from doing something stupid.
We all settle at the table. Rowena is next to Adrian, Nina by Tristan’s side, and Hunter and I get inevitably pushed together. It’s okay, not a big deal , I tell myself, even as her inebriating scent hits me again.
Rowena and Adrian are playing the perfect hosts, making sure everyone’s comfortable. I catch Adrian watching Rowena in a way that’s hard to decipher—something between admiration and uncertainty. I wonder what the deal is with them. Their engagement is fake, yet there’s an undeniable connection between them, one neither of them seems to have figured out.
When Adrian asks how we all met, I have an excuse to turn my full focus on Hunter as she dives into the story of their disastrous Halloween meet-spook. Her voice is animated, eyes sparkling, and I can’t stop watching her. I’m caught in the way her lips move, or how she gestures with her hands, those fucking golden bracelets catching the light and making me want to rip things—her clothes, more specifically.
“We met in college,” she’s saying. “On a tragic Halloween night where we all ended up ditched by our dates, soaked in a diner, and wearing the same Elle Woods costume.” She sighs, looking at Nina and Rowena. “It was love at first sight.”
“I think I saw a picture.” Adrian grins at Rowena with an expression not too dissimilar from the goofy stupor affecting me earlier in the shower. “Nice costumes.”
“We all used to live together,” Nina adds. “Until, well, recent events.”
Rowena gets uncomfortable for the first time tonight, probably wanting to avoid the topic of her fake engagement, aka the elephant in the room no one has mentioned yet. “You mean since you moved in with that guy?” She points at Tristan. “And Dylan leaped at the chance to turn my old bedroom into a home office, right?”
I grin at this. “Guilty as charged. And the company’s not bad either.” I check Hunter’s reaction, but she’s not looking my way; she seems very interested in her salad.
To distract myself, I toss a breadcrumb at Tristan. He laughs, deflecting it. I’m about to throw another breadcrumb when Adrian, without missing a beat, catches the one that flew his way and tosses it right back at me. I laugh, pretending to be outraged as I clutch my chest dramatically.
“Man, you’ve got some arm there. Did you play any sports?” I am genuinely curious now. The guy’s reflexes are impressive.
Adrian grins, leaning back in his chair, looking more relaxed than he has all evening. “Varsity baseball, but I gave that up in college because I didn’t have time for athletics.” He glances at Rowena, and something unspoken and private travels in that look. They share a deeper understanding, a secret language the rest of us don’t speak.
“Rowena told me you two played basketball in the NCAA?” Adrian adds, shifting the conversation to safer ground.
“Yeah, we did.” I shoot a quick smile at Tristan, who nods in agreement. “It was a crazy time. We ended up winning the national championship our senior year…”
Nina groans. “Not the highlights of the final again, please.”
We ignore her and give Adrian a blow-by-blow of our epic victory.
After that, dinner flows effortlessly. Adrian fits in seamlessly, his dry wit and easy-going nature a perfect complement to our seasoned banter.
As the conversation winds down, we finish the wine, lingering over the remains of the dessert. The atmosphere is relaxed and familiar despite the newness of Adrian. He and Rowena exchange a quiet glance, and it strikes me how comfortable they are with each other. They seem to have found a balance that’s still elusive for me in my new house setting. If they can make it work as platonic roommates after knowing each other for three weeks, Hunter and I should be smashing the cohabitation after… Wait, how long have we known each other? I do the mental math and, fuck me, it’s been over ten years. How did I never notice her before?
I turn to her. She’s laughing at something Nina said. Her lips curved in that easy, radiant smile that never fails to disarm me. The sight stirs a deep warmth within me, unsettling yet grounding.
Platonic, my ass.
I look away, focusing instead on the candle flickering in the center of the table. What is going on with me? I stuff my mouth with the last bite of cake and try to forget about it.
When dinner wraps up, we gather our things and head toward the front door, a pleasant buzz in the air.
Rowena walks us out onto the landing, closing the door behind her. Tension coils in her gaze as if she’s bracing for something. She glances back at the door before leaning in slightly, her voice dropping presumably so it won’t carry to Adrian.
“What do you think?” Her tone is tentative but eager.
A brief silence follows as we all exchange glances, and then a general murmur of praise for Adrian makes the rounds.
Rowena beams, reassured by our reaction, at least until my sister gives her a quick hug, whispering something in her ear the rest of us can’t hear.
Rowena nods, the smile on her face losing some of its brightness as she hugs Nina back. “Promise?”
With that, Rowena walks us to the elevator.
No one speaks until the doors slide shut and we begin our descent. Tristan is the first to break the silence. “Well, that was… not what I expected.”
Nina nods, her brow furrowed. “Yeah, same here. Adrian seems like a genuinely nice guy. It’s just…”
“Strange,” Hunter finishes for her, her arms crossed loosely over her chest. “Seeing them together like that. It’s almost too natural, you know? Like they’ve been doing this for years.”
I glance at her pensive face. “I felt that too,” I admit. “But Rowena seems okay. Better than okay. Whatever this is, it’s working for her.”
Tristan leans back against the elevator wall, his expression thoughtful. “Yeah, and Adrian didn’t strike me as the shark everyone describes him to be.”
“He was more of a teddy bear,” Hunter jokes, “ready for some cuddles.”
Tristan smirks. “The way he was looking at her, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind getting cuddles .”
The elevator falls into a contemplative quiet as we each mull over the implications. I think back to the way Adrian watched Rowena throughout the night, the small, almost imperceptible gestures that spoke volumes.
“Guys, for all we know, it’s still fake. I hope she doesn’t catch one-sided feelings,” Nina brings us back to earth. “But we’ll be here for her, no matter what. If things get complicated, she has us.”
“Absolutely,” I agree, glancing around at my friends. “We’ll stand by her.”
The elevator chimes as the doors glide open, revealing the lobby. We step out into the warmth, the city lights twinkling above us. Despite the cautious optimism, I can tell we’re all relieved after meeting Adrian.
The night seems less heavy now, more hopeful. We say goodbye and Nina and Tristan hop into a passing cab, while Hunter and I wait for the car I ordered on my app.
We stand on the curb in comfortable silence. Hunter is looking up at the sky, her expression thoughtful.
“What are you thinking about?”
She turns to me, a small, mysterious smile on her lips. “Just… life.”
It’s a vague answer, but I don’t push.
The cab arrives, and we settle into the tight back seat. It’s not as confining as earlier, but there’s still an awareness of her being beside me, her presence a steady whizz in the background of my thoughts.
“Tonight was good.” She breaks the silence. “I’m glad Winnie is doing okay. That he is a decent guy. She deserves that after Liam.”
I nod, turning to look at her. “Yeah, she does.”
Her eyes meet mine, dark and unfathomable, and everything else fades. Her gaze is guarded, almost as if she were keeping a secret. And before I can grasp it, she looks away, her attention returning to the window.
We say little after that, the silence between us stretching but not uncomfortable. As the cab nears our apartment, a strange reluctance settles over me. I don’t want the closeness to end.
But the car pulls to a stop, and we get out. As we reach our floor, I catch Hunter’s eye again, and there’s that pull, that tug, subtle but persistent.
At our door, we fumble for who should unlock it. I have my keys in my pocket and I’m faster fishing them out than Hunter, who has to search into a giant handbag that must contain all the objects in the world. It’s weird, the familiarity of getting into the same apartment, removing our shoes in the entryway, and then going down the hall to two separate bedrooms.
“Goodnight.” Her voice is almost shy, and it makes something tighten in my chest.
“Goodnight,” I reply, watching as she disappears into her room, the door closing with a quiet click.
I stand there, staring at the closed door—realizing with terrifying clarity, I want her to open it again, for me.