he would just give up and go to bed with her. His gaze landed on the sweating drinks, both nearly full. Maybe Tara was right. Maybe vodka wasn’t such a bad idea after all.
CHAPTER NINE
THIS FEELS SO GOOD. Tara all but melted under Dylan’s skilled hands. She’d forgotten how good he was at this. Revealing her guilt over Faye, then this amazing massage, was making her distress slip away.
Such a relief. Her stomach let go of its clinch, her shoulders loosened, her headache faded. She noticed how silky and cool the night air felt on her skin. The lights tucked into the landscaping began to wink and glow, turning his yard into a wonderland.
This was way better than getting drunk. Good call, Dylan. He’d always been sensible.
She found herself doing what she used to do when he rubbed her shoulders. She turned into his arms for more comfort, rested her cheek against his collarbone, felt the steady bump of his heartbeat, breathed in the sweet, sweet smell of his skin. Mmm.
Dylan’s breathing hitched in surprise at her move, then he shifted his upper body so their curves fit just right. His massage slowed, as if he, too, were remembering this experience.
The best massages were in bed in his room, when they lay skin to skin, free to take the touching further. She would feel relaxed and aroused at the same time, anticipating the moment when Dylan’s hands would slide from her back to her butt and pull her tight against him, and they’d be lost in each other’s bodies for hours.
It was happening again, she noticed—the neural pathways lighting up as if they’d never gone dark. It would be so natural to go to bed together, so easy. Why was it a bad idea again?
Dylan froze, as if he’d had the same thought, and answered her question by patting her back. “Hope that helps.” He pushed his chair back hard, the scrape loud against the tile.
“It did,” she said, turning to look at him, to see if it had been tough to stop. Embers glowed beneath the smoky color of his eyes and he was breathing hard. Good. She wasn’t alone in the struggle.
If he could resist, so could she. She was bigger than her urges, bigger than her past. She had to focus on now. Now, they were friends. They were investigating the accident together. The past was the past. They’d even apologized to each other. Done and done.
Sex would only complicate things.
Right. Good. Check.
There was another reason...simmering below the surface.
What if the sex was amazing? What if it felt too good? What if it made her want more?
That would be bad. Wanting more meant wanting Dylan and Dylan was all about Wharton, now and forever. His dream was to fix the town the way he’d fixed his father’s company. He belonged in Wharton. He fit here.
She didn’t. She’d worked too hard to break free of the town and who she’d been here. If she stayed, she’d lose all the gains she’d fought for—her independence, her confidence, her pride. She’d fall back into her old ways, turn into the same lost, sad failure she’d been.
The problem that was eating at her now, the reason she was so tempted was that she was lonely. She had to correct that—make friends she trusted enough to confide in. Get a boyfriend for the physical part. Talking about it with Dylan she realized she was not only a guest in her condo, she was a guest in her life.
So that was the lesson of seeing Dylan again.
“I missed you,” he said. “A lot.”
Zing. His words flipped a switch inside, lighting her up all over again, reversing every sensible thought she’d just had. “I missed you, too. I was miserable that first year. It was all I could do to make it to class. I had had all these plans for us, how we’d study together, go on hikes, learn to snowboard and, hell, look at stars. I felt like I’d lost a limb.”
Dylan looked surprised. “I had no idea. You cut me off cold. I figured that was that for you.”
“I cut you off because it hurt too much to hope.” Her entire body felt electrified by the words they were sharing. Truths she’d never spoken aloud, not even to Faye. “Even then, I hoped you’d come sophomore year like you said. Instead you got married.”
He stared at her for a long moment. “Yeah. I did. And it was a mistake. And, the