Love Emerged (16 page)

Although Dylan’s arrival at the pool was a happy surprise, I can’t help but wish he would have come a little later. I wasn’t done with pushing everything away, like I usually do. Swimming doesn’t rinse my mind. It erases my feelings. It’s probably what drew me to it in the first place.

Once, Piper told me she swam to work through her problems. That, somehow, in her steady pace, her problems would shrink, and she’d finish her workout with a brighter outlook on life. I was so jealous of her because, for me, it was like I’d drop little rocks of my problems to the bottom of the pool. I’d forget to pick them back up and emerge out of the pool, feeling lighter. Then, when I’d dip back in, all those problems lying beneath the water would resurface to haunt me again. It’s a gut-wrenching merry-go-round, but I prefer that to therapy. I’ll never go back to that again.

“You okay?” Dylan asks across from me.

I nod, still searching the crowded rush hour streets. There has to be someone else out there who feels as hopeless as I do in this moment.

“You don’t look like it.”

My eyes flick to him, relaxed back in his chair, playing with his phone. His green eyes are haunting me because, occasionally, it’s as though they can see my deepest fears. He’s the only one who knows my act is just that—an act.

“I’m fine.” I straighten my back in my chair and pose my fingers on my keyboard. “Let’s go. I searched their last few ads last night—”

He holds his hand in the air and then rests it on top of my laptop. “Let’s get out of here. Explore the city.” One side of his lips perk up.

“No, we’re on a tight deadline. We’ll work.” My fingers hammer on my keyboard to find the file I made up of their recent ad slogans.

He shuts his own laptop, stands up, and grabs his jacket. “Come on.” He cocks his head toward the door. “You aren’t going to make me drag you, are you? I mean, technically, I am your boss on this project.”

A devilish grin emerges across his lips, and my body melts.

“You are so not my boss.” I stand, shutting my laptop.

“Should we call Tim then?” He raises his eyebrows. “It’s cold. Put this on.” He throws a sweatshirt at me.

The scent of his cologne hits my nostrils, and excitement zooms to my girlie parts as I remember our nights together.

I throw his NYU sweatshirt over my head, feeling an odd comfort in the warmth it brings. He steadily walks toward the door and opens it for me. Grabbing my phone, I quickly realize that I have no money.

“Can we stop by my room?” I ask as I walk by him, purposely swaying my hips back and forth.

I turn around once I clear the doorway, and his eyes quickly shoot up to my face.

Good, the swaying worked.

“Why?” he asks, shutting his door and checking it once again before walking down the hall. He catches up to me.

“I need my wallet, I only have a twenty.”

“No, you don’t. I’ve got you covered.” He hurries in front of me to push the elevator button.

“No way. It’s one floor.” I shake my head.

When the elevator doors open, there’s an elderly couple already inside. Dylan doesn’t wait for me to enter first, which is unusual.

I step in, and I smile at the couple. From the gentleman’s suit and her nice pantsuit ensemble, I’m guessing they are already dressed for dinner. My hand ventures over to the elevator panel to press my floor, but I land into a rock-hard surface. My eyes float up to find Dylan smirking.

“Nice try. I told you, tonight’s on me.”

My head turns in the direction of the woman aahing and she gives me a soft smile. Little does she know, this is not some Prince Charming. He refuses to fuck me again, and I know for a fact that he enjoyed it the first two times. When a man whispers your name in your ear right as he orgasms, it’s a success.

“Will you please stop?”

I try to go around his body, but he dodges all attempts.

“You be my tour guide, and I pay. End of discussion.”

The elevator dings, and Dylan instantly puts his hands across the threshold for the elderly couple to exit first. I swear, you’d never guess this guy with sleeved tattoos and bulging muscles would be so sweet and polite.

“Fine, but tomorrow, I make the plans, and I pay.” I narrow my eyes at him once we file out of the elevator.

He holds his hands up in the air. “Deal, but I have one request for tonight.”

He touches my arm to grab my attention back his way. It’s a movement so simple and meaningless that it shouldn’t bring goose bumps to my covered skin.

“What?” I jut my hip out, showing major attitude, as though he’s putting me out by making me be his host for the evening.

“Take me to architecture. Somewhere void of people.” He bites his lip. “Walks always free my mind, and usually, parks and museums are the best.”

“You’re a nerd. You know that, right?” I ask, swinging my arm through his, waiting for him to lead us out of the hotel.

“Yeah, I know.” That cocky attitude of his disappears, and he’s timid, looking down at his sneakers.

I hit his hip with mine. “I like it.”

His eyes look up, no sign of his normal amusement.

“Not for long.” He takes a deep breath. “What’s your go-to? To spur the juices to flow.”

We walk out of the hotel, nodding to the bellman. I wait for us to cross the major street to be away from the rush hour people fighting to get home. I lead us up to Grant Park first because the famous water fountain should help both of us.

“For me, it’s water. So, I’d be strolling down the pathway by the lake. Sometimes, I think if I lived by an ocean, I’d be a genius.” I laugh, and he grants me a small smile. “Sadly, I was worried I’d be a junior executive at Deacon until I decide to leave. Until now.”

“Why is that? I’m surprised you’re not a senior yet.”

I roll my eyes, freeing him from my arm, as though I’m contagious and he could catch my staling career. “I don’t know. Tim is a gender-biased asshole, is one reason. But, still, it doesn’t show why upper management hasn’t clued in on my brilliance.”

I laugh, but Dylan doesn’t. He’s always so damn serious.

“You could file a complaint if you think he’s purposely not promoting you. Your ads speak for themselves.” He leads me over to a park bench and sits down in front of the fountain.

“Ha. Not going to happen.”

“Why not?”

“And be the woman to call out a company for sexual discrimination? Why not just move to New Delhi?”

He nods because we both know I’m right.

“Well, Nike will change it. We’ll both be climbing the ladder once we nail it.” He swings his arm behind my shoulders, resting it along the back of the bench.

“You will. I’ll probably be demoted to the mailroom.”

“Bea, I really wish—”

My phone ringing interrupts him.

I dig through the sweatshirt pocket, retrieving my phone, and when I see who it is, I’m tempted to hit the Ignore button. But she’ll just keep calling and calling until I’m left with no other choice. Might as well deal with the knife-stabbing now.

“Sorry, hold on,” I say to Dylan.

He nods his head and admires the fountain in front of us.

Standing, I wander down a few park benches to distance myself from Dylan’s ears. There’s no reason he has to hear me tell my mother off.

“What?” I answer, totally aware my attitude will only piss her off. That would make my night after the stunt she pulled at my father’s earlier.

“Bea, come to the hotel. I’m ordering room service, and I need to talk to you.”

“No. I’m out with my coworker.”

She huffs into the receiver, long and on purpose, to convey how displeased she is. Joke’s on her. I don’t give a shit.

“Bea, we need to discuss your father.”

“No, we don’t. Listen, I’m not sure why you came to Chicago, but it’s time to move along. I’ll handle Dad.”

I sit on a bench, my eyes veering over to Dylan to make sure he’s not looking my way. He’s moved closer to the fountain, and he is digging change out of his pocket, tossing it into the fountain.

“Don’t be so belligerent. I was just in shock to see your father so . . . frail.”

“He’s dying. What exactly did you think he’d look like?” I decide not to divulge how much his gaunt appearance took me aback in the foyer.

I was used to my dad being so full of life. He’d saunter into the foyer with a scotch in his hand, dressed in an expensively tailored suit. Not like today, in slippers and sweats.

“Give me a break.” Her voice rises, but it doesn’t surprise me. “Come over here, so we can talk.” She’s growing impatient.

“I told you, I’m with a coworker. We can talk tomorrow. I’ll come by for breakfast before I go to dad’s.”

“You’re going with your dad to his appointment?” She sounds like I’m stepping on her toes.

“The doctor is coming to his condo. I’m meeting them there to discuss treatment options.” I look up at the dusk sky, a few stars sneaking through the cloudy sky.
One, two, three.

“Why didn’t I know about this?”

“Seriously?” I yell. Then, I close my eyes to compose myself. “You ran out on him back then and now. You don’t deserve to be there,” I whisper into the phone, checking to make sure Dylan is still where he was a minute ago.

My heartbeat picks up pace when I spot him clearing the distance between us. His head is tilted in confusion, his eyes digging into mine. Suddenly, my mom’s screaming on the other line is white noise because there’s something in his eyes I’ve never seen from any male when it comes to me. Protectiveness. He’s hell-bent on finding out what has me yelling in the middle of a park.

“Bea!” my mom screams.

I’m jarred from my fog. Snapping my eyes away, I lift my hand and walk a few feet away, but Dylan’s sneakers only pivot on the gravel to follow me. Soon, I’m hearing the gravel crunch under his footsteps behind me.

“Mom, I have to go. I’ll be by for breakfast.” I press the End button and tuck the phone into my sweatshirt.

Not a second goes by until Dylan’s breath hits the back of my neck, igniting shivers to run down my spine.

“Who was that?”

He doesn’t touch me, but my body is hyperaware of him being so near me.

“Just my mom.” I step forward to gain some distance because, when he’s so close, I lose all cognitive abilities.

“Is she here?” he asks such an innocent question.

His parents have been married forever and only to one another. I hate to burst his bubble that all families aren’t so neatly fitted as his own.

“She is, but not for what you might expect.” I’m trying to dodge this conversation because it only makes me sound pathetic.

“Oh.” He lets the topic go, which surprises me.

“She wanted me to have dinner with her.” I’m not even sure why I tell him. Maybe to make my family situation not seem like the pathetic mess it is, as though I’m trying to prove that my mom does want me in her life and more than for just a friend to complain to or boss around.

“Oh, please, Bea, go ahead. I’ll grab something and head back. Actually, this great idea just came into my head.” He pulls out his phone. “I’d better jot it in my notes before I forget.”

I admire the way his ideas come to him. It’s like he already has a system in place, and he’s only just started working in the field. The time it took for me to realize that racking my brain didn’t help my ideas to come was the whole first year. It wasn’t until last year when I got into the groove.

I hold my hand up. “No. Believe me, it’s not some great relationship, like you have with your mom.”

He shrugs with a smirk splashed on his face. “Yeah, hiding a girl in my bedroom isn’t exactly a great relationship.”

A soft chuckle emerges from his throat, and I’m more drawn to him.

Dylan

“Well, my mom would have hopped in the bed and asked to join,” Bea says.

I laugh until I see that she’s not. On the contrary, her eyes are studying the water fountain in front of her. So, there are daddy and mommy issues with Bea.

“Come on. We’ll share a taxi.” I toss my head in the direction of the street, but Bea doesn’t move. “Bea?”

She blinks and then looks over to me, clearly lost somewhere other than this moment. “Yeah, okay.”

The gravel crunches under our feet until we’re on the walking path back to the main road. We’re both silent while in this serious mode. The fireflies light up in the line of the trees while a low hum of crickets ring. I’m surprised to find this sense of nature in the middle of a huge city. We shift to the side of the sidewalk to make room for another couple walking toward us, and our hands brush, sending a rush of shivers through me.

Bea inhales a deep breath, and I glance over to her. In the moonlight shining down from the sky, the profile of her face looks innocent. I imagine a talented artist painting her as an angelic creature, missing the fact that she’s troubled. In the short time I’ve known Bea, one thing is clear. She doesn’t find herself as self-assured as she portrays.

She looks through the corners of her eyes back at me, and I quickly focus on the ground in front of us.

“What?” She touches the side of her face, as though she has something on it.

“Nothing.”

Her hand continues to rub her face, and I chuckle, stopping us from walking. I gently urge her hand back down to her side, my own hand cradling her cheek.