"Okay. I'm going to get dressed, and I'll be right back."
I headed to the bathroom to get my clothes, and oh shit, Dylan must have selected the wrong program. While my skirt was okay, my shirt had shrunk a bit. My navel was on display. I looked like an extra in a ’90s video. Walking to the mirror, I realized it was worse than I thought. I tried to tug at it, but it was no use. Oh well, it would have to do for the short trip to the gym. I was wearing short things there all the time. Maybe I could pass it off as a training shirt of some sort.
I combed my hair with my hands, and I noticed he had toothpaste in a glass between the two sinks. I quickly put some paste on my finger and used it to sort of brush my teeth. It wasn't great, but it was better than having stinky morning breath.
He'd brushed his teeth already because I'd gotten a hint of mint when he'd stopped me from toppling the bookshelf, and I did want to kiss him before I left. I wanted to kiss him thoroughly so it could last me for the whole weekend. Last night had been incredible. My body was still aching, which was proof that I hadn't imagined all the delicious things he’d done to me.
I found him at the kitchen island already, looking hot as sin as he arranged croissants on plates.
“Oh, yummm...,” I said, practically eating it all up with my eyes. “These look delicious.” Taking one, I immediately bit into it and moaned in delight. It had a mix of chocolate and apricot jam inside.
I felt Dylan at my back. Instead of devouring a croissant himself, he was kissing the side of my neck.
Hell yes. This was the way to start the day. Eating something delicious while this godlike man was covering me with kisses.
"What are you doing later today?" he whispered against my skin.
"I'm probably going to go shopping for a phone. I’ll buy the new model. I’ll email Dad from the gym’s computer to tell him about the phone so he doesn’t panic when he can’t reach me.”
“Shit, I forgot about that. I need a new one too. But I wanted to talk to you about something. I'm meeting my family and some friends at Isabelle’s new house. Want to join us?"
I blinked a few times, stopping mid-bite. My heart was beating faster. He wants me to spend time with him and his siblings? Wow. Last night with my dad was different. It had been unexpected, but this was an invitation. I couldn’t figure out what it meant, but perhaps I didn’t need to.
I wanted to have a fun Saturday with him and the rest of the Gallagher clan. I just had to make sure I didn’t lose my heart in the process too.
“Mm, that sounds tempting. What are we going to do?"
"I'm not sure yet, but if past meetings with my family are any indication, it will probably revolve around talking about the wedding. I think I already know everything by heart."
I turned around, pointing at him. "Hey, don't be such a grouch. It’ll be a very happy day for your sister.”
"I know. That's why I'm putting up with it. You have no idea on how many things I had to give my opinion on.”
I found that extremely cute, especially knowing weddings were a sore spot for him.
“Ian always makes fun of her, that she goes into the zone when she talks about D-day, and he’s right," he added.
“You two are so bad.” I ate the rest of the croissant, checking the time on his oven display. “I’ve got to go, or I’ll be late.”
“I can drive you.”
“No, it’s okay. The walk will wake me up.”
“When do you finish?” he asked.
“At ten.”
“Okay. I’ll pick you up in front of the gym.”
I made to go, but he pinned me back against the island, kissing me hard and deep. I tugged at his shirt, running my fingers through his hair. He tasted like coffee. He was relentless in his exploration.
“Dylan,” I whispered when we paused to breathe.
In response, he groaned, rocking his hips into me. “Go before I change my mind and keep you here.”
“Ha! As if you could convince me.”
“Don’t tempt me.” He feathered his thumb from one corner of my mouth to the other. The look in his eyes was feral. My knees weakened a little, and I realized he’d have no problem convincing me.
Clearing my throat, I stepped to one side. “Okay. I’m going now.”
I moved quickly to the corridor, putting on my gladiator sandals. They were still wet, and the shape had changed a bit, but I was hoping they’d recover. He opened the door for me, and I didn’t miss the glint of mischief in his eyes. I pointed two fingers at his eyes as I walked backward out of the apartment.
“Don’t look at me like that,” I warned, punching the elevator button with my free hand. It was already on this floor, so the doors opened.
“Why, afraid of my powers of persuasion?”
“Exactly,” I said, stepping inside.
I heard his laughter right until the doors of the elevator closed. I was laughing too, checking my lips in the mirror. My outfit was just as tragic as before, but I couldn’t deny there was a glow to my cheeks and eyes that was all due to Dylan.
Oh, Mel, what are you getting yourself into? And more importantly, how are you going to get back out?
Chapter Eighteen
Mel
At ten o’clock, I came out of Genesis with a pep in my step. Dylan was waiting for me in his BMW. He’d pulled the car into a parking space right in front of the gym. I hopped in quickly, smiling at him.
"Ready. I'm all yours for the rest of the day."
It was a gorgeous Saturday, already hitting eighty degrees, and it was going to be a warm one. According to the weather channel, it would be ninety at noon, which was a bit too warm for the end of June. At least the humidity was supposed to be fairly low.
"Then we're good to go," he said, and the car lurched forward.
Glancing between the seats, I noticed a box. It seemed to be a brand-new phone.
“Hey, someone was productive. You’ve already bought yourself a replacement.”
“Mine’s in my pocket. That one’s yours.”
"Oh, thanks. Just message me your PayPal account when you have a chance. And the amount I owe you.”
“No. It’s a gift.”
I stopped in the act of opening the box, turning to look at him as the car lurched forward. “Um... thanks, but it’s not necessary. I was going to buy one for myself. You don't need to give me gifts."
"Gifts are never necessary, " he said with a smile.
"Dylan, I mean it. I don't want you to give me a phone."
"Why not?"
Because it was a brand-new smartphone and it cost about $1,000. I didn't want to sound ungrateful, but this didn’t seem right.
"Look, this is very kind of you, but it would make me feel better if I could pay you.”
He stared at the road, shaking his head. "I'm trying to do something nice for you, Mel. Don't read too much into it.”
I looked down at the phone, trying to find the right words. “I’ve never liked taking gifts, and after how things went with Elliot, I’m even more gun-shy.”
“That guy is a moron. A gift is a gift, Mel. Most people don’t ask for them back, and don’t worry, I would never do that.”