20. Dylan
20
DYLAN
T he rooftop bar has been completely transformed in a way I never thought possible. I push my shoulders back and sit a little taller as I take in all of my hard work. String lights have been hung over the lounge area, where sleek black couches have been placed. There’s a DJ nestled in the corner playing all of the latest hits, and the bar is already packed with people waiting to order a drink.
Before I grab a drink and socialize, I stop to study the sky, which is splashed in hues of rose, tangerine, and lavender as the sun dips behind the skyscrapers. It’s as if Mother Nature has grabbed a paintbrush and spent her sweet time creating a spellbinding masterpiece full of wispy brushstrokes. It’s enchanting.
“Pretty breathtaking, isn’t it?” a gravelly voice calls from behind me.
I blink back into focus, the party around me suddenly becoming clear again. I turn to find Amelia and Scarlett–who made their way to the bar–have been replaced by Parker. My breath catches, and a flutter of anticipation twists in my chest. He’s always been beautiful in my eyes, but tonight, there’s something there that I’ve never seen before. Yet I can’t place my finger on it.
His fitted midnight black suit jacket matches his slim trousers impeccably. I know if he turned around, I would find the pants sculpting his ass beautifully, and I gulp down the thought of staring at his butt. Under the jacket, he’s wearing a black button-down, free of a tie. He’s left the last few top buttons undone, and my eyes catch on the ink peeking through. My mind flashes back to his arm tattoo on the plane, and I discreetly fan myself over the thought that there’s more hiding underneath his clothes.
I bring my gaze back up to his face and notice he’s let his stubble grow out more. His loose dark hair has grown out, and tendrils fall in front of his face. The youthful look it gives him contradicts the ruggedness of the five o’clock shadow. His lips are turned up into a genuine smile as his eyes rake down my figure.
“New York’s sunsets definitely rival Woodland Heights’, and that’s hard to do,” I say, suddenly breathless.
“They do. But I wasn’t talking about the sunset.”
I roll my eyes, but my face flushes with heat. I wish I had gotten a drink before this interaction. I’d kill to cool myself off with an ice cube or two right about now. “That was bad, even for you.”
He chuckles and walks past me, relaxing his arms on the glass wall that separates us from a thousand-foot drop. My stomach involuntarily cramps at the blasé gesture, and I reach out for his sleeve, tugging him backward, closer to me, without processing what I’m doing.
I’ve been scared of heights since I was a child, and the irrational fear of him falling plays in my mind, frame by frame. He must notice my discomfort because he takes yet another step back and places a hand on my lower back. The small gesture sends a bolt of electricity through me, and my body hums at the contact.
“Still not a fan of heights, huh?”
I let go of the breath I was unaware I was holding now that he’s put some distance between him and the ledge. “Unfortunately not.”
“Hosting a release party on top of a skyscraper was a bold move for someone who can’t even handle the stairs of a waterslide.”
“It’s New York. It was the only option.” I reply roughly.
As much as I want to joke around with him, my pulse is throbbing, and there’s a rush of blood in my ears. I’m almost certain it has nothing to do with the scare he just gave me and everything to do with the hand that’s sitting rather close to my ass.
He shakes his head, his grin still on full display. “Why don’t we get you a drink? Take that edge off a little?”
I nod wordlessly, and he grabs my hand, leading me through the crowd. I lock eyes with Scarlett and Amelia, who both mouth “OMG” as they notice my hand locked with his. I avert my gaze back to the bar. I know damn well that if I entertain them, my poker face will crumble, and I don’t need Parker knowing that he has that effect on me.
“What would you like?”
We saddle up to the bar, and his hand goes from my own to my hip. I glance down at his hand, his fingers splayed firmly against my clothed skin. The grip is possessive, and as much as I want to hate it, my body longs to be explored more.
“Dylan?” his deep, rumbling voice calls for me.
I look up to the bartender, who’s staring at Parker longer than I’m comfortable with. A kernel of jealousy plants itself in my gut. Fuck . “Oh, I’ll take a tequila soda with lime, please.”
“Make that two, please.”
When I bring my attention back to Parker, he’s already looking at me, his eyes darkened with hunger. Without breaking eye contact, he places cash in the tip jar, grabs the drinks once they’re finished, and hands me my glass.
“Thank you.” I take a sip, letting the refreshingly strong drink wash over me. The liquid courage warms my belly, and before I can process what’s happening, Parker is dragging me over to an empty couch. I sit across from him, our knees inches away from one another.
“Cheers to putting together one hell of a release party. This turned out better than I could’ve even imagined it. And it’s all thanks to you.” Parker lifts his glass, and I hit it with my own.
I take another sip before setting it down and looking around, taking it all in again. It exceeded my expectations, too. “You can thank the party planners I hired, not me.”
“Don’t do that,” he commands.
“Do what?” I question.
“Discredit yourself. They may have brought it all to life, but it was your vision they were working with. You were the one who thought out every meticulous detail, down to the napkins.”
To be fair, it was my idea to include some of my favorite quotes on the cocktail napkins to help garnish interest. The drink stirrers were also topped with moons and stars to tie in some of the book’s elements.
“Well, thank you,” I say quietly. I’ve never been comfortable with flattery in any capacity, and it took me months of dating Parker to shake off the habit of arguing with him whenever he complimented me. I never felt worthy of the praise. It’s something I’m still working on, and I fear I may be working on it for the rest of my life. I file that thought away to bring to next week’s therapy session as I take another drink.
“Of course.” He cups my chin and lifts it so we’re eye-to-eye. He sweeps his thumb across my jawline, and I swear my heart falls straight into my ass at the tender touch. “Now relax. You’ve made it this far. You’ve done an incredible job. Enjoy the fruits of your labor for once. Can you do that for me?”
I dip my head in agreement, careful not to be too abrupt to keep his hand in place. I’m not sure what’s in the air tonight, but the physical contact has me ready to combust. I mentally run through my calendar, trying to place the last time I saw any action. It’s been far too long. No wonder I’m going feral.
“I can do that,” I whisper.
“Good girl. Now dance with me.”
Despite being terrible at accepting praise, the velvety tone that envelope the words “good girl” makes my body ache. Parker stands and reaches his hand out in support. I neglect my drink on a nearby table, forgetting about it entirely, as an electric current surges from my head to my toes at the idea of dancing with Parker the way we did once upon a time. It’s a small gesture that’s so well-known yet so alien, thanks to the time we’ve spent apart.
I take his hand, and he leads me to the dance floor, where a small handful of attendees are swaying to the newest love song on the charts. My brain can’t process a single lyric playing as Parker and I come face to face. It’s like my mind has tunnel vision, only capable of focusing on the man in front of me.
He wraps an arm around my waist and grabs my free hand, leaving me to hold onto his shoulder and stare into his cerulean blue eyes. There’s always been a height difference between us, but I had forgotten what it feels like to crane my neck to get a better view of his statuesque face.
As we rock gently together to the melody of the music, Parker refuses to take his eyes off me, and I have to remind myself not to cower from the ferocity. His stare bounces from my own gaze down to my lips, and the temptation to stand on the balls of my feet to press my lips to his burns through me like a wildfire, but I bite it back, unwilling to be the one to cross that line .
“You’ve gotten better. You haven’t stepped on my toes once. I think that might be a new record,” he teases.
I bury my face into his chest, hiding my embarrassment–and the giant grin that’s engulfed my face. With a deep inhale, I catch a whiff of sweet smoke like a blazing campfire in the woods. It’s the cologne he’s worn in all the years I’ve known him, and it makes my head foggy. “Be careful what you wish for. We’re just getting started.” There’s a trace of laughter in my voice, but it’s muffled by the silky folds of his shirt.
“Are you saying you’ll do me the honor of dancing with me all night?” I can hear the smile in his voice, and it makes my heart hammer against my ribs.
“If you’re lucky,” I grumble against his torso.
“Something tells me I will be,” Parker mutters into the top of my hair, pulling me closer to him. I’m not sure where this confidence has come from, but being pressed up against him makes my judgment go haywire, so I don’t question it.
Instead, I let myself revel in the thought that maybe, just maybe, the universe did bring us back together for a second chance.
The night is wrapping, most of the party has left, and I’m buzzing with energy and alcohol. I wipe my forehead with the back of my hand, clearing it of the sweat I’ve worked up from dancing. It felt so freeing to take a step back and not worry about work for once. Though it was technically a work event, after I gave my speech thanking everyone for coming, I got to let loose and just be me. I hadn’t realized how badly I needed it until now. It helped that Parker refused to leave my side the entire night .
It felt like we were falling back into old routines, and a twinge of wistfulness settled into my soul. It felt like the days before my dad passed away. I felt young again.
Amelia and Scarlett prance up to me, arms linked. Seeing my two favorite people becoming so close fills me with a profound sense of love. I’ve found my circle. I’ve found my footing.
“We’re about to head out. You ready to go?” Amelia slurs. It looks like I’m not the only one feeling the effects of the open bar.
“Yeah, let me just find my purse.”
“Actually, ladies, do you mind if I walk her home?” Parker swaggers up to my side, placing his arm around my waist. Despite being hot, a chill courses through me. Scarlett wiggles her eyebrows at me, and Amelia bursts out into a fit of giggles.
“Of course, we don’t mind. Get her home safely, Parker. Or else I have to kick your ass. And I’m a purple belt.” Scarlett creates a v-shape with her pointer and middle fingers and points them in Parker’s direction in an “I’m watching you” motion. On any given day, I’d take Scarlett’s threats seriously, but with a few drinks in her system, she’s closer to resembling a harmless chihuahua.
“You have my word.” Parker bows at the waist, sending me into a hysterical outburst. Scarlett and Amelia skip toward the door, leaving me and Parker alone, aside from a few stragglers. He grabs my bag from behind his back and hands it to me. “I believe you were looking for this.”
“Thank you. How gentlemanly of you,” I reply with a hiccup.
The minute I place the clutch’s chain on my shoulder, Parker’s hand finds its way back to my back. He gently ushers me toward the elevator, both of us swaying slightly as we can’t seem to break the laughing spell. As soon as the doors open, we step onto the empty elevator .
I stand pressed against the back wall, unsure of what to say or do now that it’s just the two of us in such close proximity. Before I can process what he’s about to do, Parker presses the emergency stop button of the elevator, causing the entire thing to jolt.
“What are you doing?” I collect myself after jerking forward at the sudden movement.
“We need to talk.”