Chapter 25
Chapter Twenty-Five
The smell of fresh-brewed coffee, cinnamon, and pumpkin takes over my senses as I walk up the curved, cast-iron stairs that lead me to the second level of the lighthouse.
Once I get there, I spot him standing at the kitchen counter, looking out the window above the sink, coffee in hand.
His T-shirt is back on—this is both a good and unfortunate thing—and his sweatpants are hanging low on his waist. I bite my lip before reminding myself that friends don’t bite their lips looking at other friends and then clear my throat.
“Is there enough for two?” I ask, walking into the kitchen to greet him. He turns around, and his emerald eyes light up when they lock on me. He places his cup on the counter and offers a teasing grin.
“I wondered when you’d be coming back.” Opening the cupboard above him, he pulls out another red mug and pours the coffee into it, along with some of the pumpkin creamer he knows I’m obsessed with.
“I wanted to get some air. Watch the sunrise,” I tell him as I take the cup from his hands. A zap of electricity runs up my arm as our fingers touch, and I take a low, deep breath to calm down.
Friends.
We curl up on the couch, the fire snuffed out since the room is warming up with the sun risen in the sky. Before I can say anything, he looks at me and cocks an eyebrow. “Uh, about last night—”
“We don’t need to talk about it,” I say a little too quickly. “What happens in the dark stays in the dark,” I add with a nod of my head. Then, I go back to my coffee, sipping as a distraction while I steady myself.
“What happens in the dark stays in the dark,” he responds with a smirk. “I’ll remember that.”
I almost choke on my drink, somehow managing to swallow it after a few coughs. “That’s not what I meant, Dylan.”
“I’m just repeating what you said.”
“We had an emotional day yesterday, and things happened. Let’s leave those things in the past and continue on with our friendship.” I hold my head high. Good. How’s that for spelling it out for you?
He just drinks his coffee and looks at me, eyes crinkling with a hint of mischief in them, and his mouth twitches to the side. “Whatever you say, boss.”
I nod in agreement but say nothing. Instead, I choose to enjoy the quiet of sitting with him, feeling the warmth of his presence beside me.
I could spend all day in this exact spot and be happier than ever, but so much is weighing on my mind right now after that conversation with Iris.
It takes everything in me not to tilt my head to the left and rest it on his shoulder.
Nope. That would be bad. He might take that as a hint.
I hold my head even straighter as I finish my delicious drink.
I spend the rest of the morning and early afternoon at the lighthouse with Dylan. He makes us breakfast—and lunch—and we play cards and Yahtzee in the living room. By the time two o’clock hits, I stand up and stretch.
“I really should get back now,” I say, feeling a bit sad that I need to go, but also knowing I need time alone to think. “I have to change my clothes and get some groceries for the week.”
He cleans up from our most recent game of Spit, shuffling the cards and putting them back in the deck. “I had fun this weekend, friend,” he adds with a smirk.
“Me too. Thanks for taking me fishing.” I grab my purse off the back of his chair and shuffle toward him once more.
I smile wistfully as we lock eyes. My lips itch to part, but I snap my mouth shut.
Nope, can’t do that. He cocks an eyebrow at me; my indecisiveness is probably very obvious.
Finally, in an attempt to make things less awkward, I open my arms and lean in for a hug. Friends do this. It’s okay.
He leans in and engulfs me in a hug, resting his chin on the top of my head.
If it weren’t for him holding me, my legs would have buckled, and I would have fallen to the floor in a crumpled pile.
I take a deep breath, revelling in the scent of the soap on his skin.
Of the salt that seems to stick in the air around him.
As I’m about to let go, he kisses the top of my head.
I sigh and squeeze him a little tighter.
“Bye, Luce,” he murmurs, chin still resting.
“Bye, Dylan.” I sigh once more.
“See you next weekend?”
“I’ll be here.” I smile into him.
After we finally come apart, I look at him once more and lightly touch his jaw. Then I turn away to go down the stairs and out the red door, back into the year 2025. A year without Dylan.
The door closes behind me, and the sound of raindrops surprises me.
I step out onto the gravel path and tilt my head toward the sky, closing my eyes and letting the rain wash all over me.
There’s something cleansing about it. Like it’s washing away all my emotions and fears and the big decision that looms over me.
For a moment, I’m clean, like none of it ever happened.
I turn to look at the lighthouse once more before heading back to my car.
The paint is even more chipped, with holes in the concrete now showing, as if the material is crumbling.
Chunks of concrete lie on the rocks around the structure.
I take another photo with my phone, for proof I don’t know if I’ll ever need, and walk to my car.
Something is going on with this lighthouse, and I don’t think it’s good.