AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Dylan grins and snatches the book from my grasp. “Sweet.” He glances between me and Ian. “Oh yeah. Ian’s back.” Then he hurries into the house.
I hold Ian’s gaze, and we both laugh.
“There should’ve been an announcement in the paper or something.”
Ian chuckles. “I’m not one for dramatic entrances.”
“How long are you back?”
We’ve finally gotten past the initial awkwardness. Good.
Ian pauses. “I’m not sure yet. Depends.”
Before I can ask, he says,
“You coming in?”
“Erm.” I glance at my car. I have nothing to do all night aside from obsessing over my accounts, scrolling through my feed, and maybe soaking in my bathtub with a glass of wine and my favorite book. And then relaxing in the bath for an hour before finally going to bed.
But now, watching my brother’s childhood friend in front of me, those options don’t seem as appealing.
“Yeah sure.” I nod. “I think I’ll crash your party.”
He waves me in. “There’s not much to crash. Just two guys, a couple drinks, and some video games. You still play?”
Dylan’s house is just like him. Eccentric. Each wall is a different color – brown, white, cream, black. A studio chair in the corner, with a camera. Large paintings hanging on the walls. A beautiful oil painting right above the fireplace. A furry rug drapes the floor. Rows of books take up more than half the white wall, along with action figures he’s had since he was twelve years old.
Dylan whistles from a room – a no-go area. Invites only. The only person allowed to enter that room uninvited is…well, Ian. Dylan never lets anyone see the paintings he’s working on until it’s perfect and in his gallery.
“Err, play?”
“Video games.”
I drop my bag on a couch and turn to Ian.
“It’s been so long.” I haven’t played video games since college…the night I met Logan. I blink away the memory. “I don’t think I can still play.”
Ian cocks his head. “You used to love it.”
Laughing, I shake my head. “Things change.”
His expression turns serious and he cocks his head, studying me intently.
“How have you been, Kaylee?”
The question stuns me into silence. His eyes bore into mine, pinning me to the spot. I can’t speak. Ian’s gaze doesn’t waver. Another thing that hasn’t changed about him: he’s always been the type to ask how are you and actually want to listen. To him, it’s not just a greeting, a thing people say to make small talk. He actually wants to know.
“I’m —”
“Okay! I’m not going back there until tomorrow,” Dylan says, popping out of his studio. He wipes his hands with a napkin. “I forgot myself in there for a minute. Sorry about that. Where were we?”
“The part where you get the drinks,” Ian says, lowering himself to a couch. My gaze lands on his hands. Large firm hands. Staring at them triggers a vivid memory. Those large hands, wrapped around my waist. Helping me find my balance, while my head swam with the aftereffects of alcohol…
“ – standing like that?”
I blink him into focus. “Um, what?”
“Yeah. That.” Dylan snaps his fingers and hurries away.
