That certainly shuts me up.
After we finish our pizza and two pints of beer each, Dylan pays, and we head back to the lighthouse. The path is covered in darkness, but the sky is clear, and the tiny lights above from the stars and the crescent moon shine down around us.
We get inside, and Dylan throws a few more logs on the wood stove, warming the place up. He grabs two more chilled beers from the fridge, and we sit together on the brown-and-yellow plaid couch, casually sipping them.
“What should we do?” I playfully ask him. “Since you’re not a TV guy at all.”
“I’m definitely not that,” he laughs as he takes a swig from his bottle. Then his eyes light up for a moment, and he motions to me to wait with a finger. He places the bottle on the coffee table in front of us and runs over to the stairs and up to the second level. As his feet hit the floor once more upon his return, he’s holding a red cardboard box. “How do you feel about Scrabble?” he asks with a grin.
I take it from him and inspect it. The glossy red box with white writing looks similar to the game I know, but reminds me almost of a vintage artifact. I give it a shake and hear the familiar sound of tiles rustling together in the enclosed space. Looking at him, I say, “I haven’t played in years. Let’s do it.”
We get everything set up on the coffee table. I’m on one side, sitting cross-legged, facing the couch, and he’s on the other side, feet planted on the floor in front of him, facing thewood stove. The fire warms my back, and Dylan passes me the fleece blanket from the back of the couch to lay over my lap. My hair is up in a bun on top of my head, and I went and changed into the clothes Dylan bought for me before we started. He hands me the tiles, seven for me and seven for him. We start off with easy words, laughing along as we place them down on the board and retrieve our new tiles. Every time Dylan’s gaze lands on me, my mouth goes dry, and heat erupts in my belly. His look is penetrating, and it makes it hard to concentrate on the game we’re playing.
We’re both neck and neck, each of us scoring points without the other questioning our word choices. It isn’t until I place down the tiles to spellepeethat Dylan tilts his head at me and offers a smirk. “That can’t be real. You just had a lot ofe’s you needed to get rid of.”
Placing my hand on my chest, I pretend to be deeply offended and scoff. “How dare you suggest I cheat?” I say as a laugh bursts out of me. “Don’t you know what an épée is?”
“It’s not a real word, so of course I don’t know what it is.”
“It’s a pointed sword. A duelling sword. For fencing,” I say matter-of-factly.
“And tell me, Lucy, why would I know anything about fencing?” he retorts, a laugh hidden behind his smile.
I pause for a minute. “I guess that’s fair. I only know ’cause of high school. We had fencing class.”
“Of course you did.” He chuckles as he spins a tile between his index finger and thumb, my eyes darting down to watch the quick motion. “My school didn’t even have a gym, it was so small.”
Without realizing what I’m doing, I lean forward, grab his bicep, and squeeze. “Then how the hell are youso fit?” He looks over at my hand and then brings his across his chest to place over top of my own, eyes raking up and down my body. I took my bra off when I got changed and am very aware of how my perky nipples are probably showing through the thin cotton of my grey shirt. My pulse vibrates through my body as he keeps his hand on mine and gently strokes it with his thumb.
“No idea,” he responds in a low voice.
I drop the tiles I was holding, and they land on the floor beside me. Dylan doesn’t even twitch. “Well, whatever you’re doing, it’s working,” I say, leaning over to pick them back up, feeling slightly tipsy from the beer we’ve been drinking. It’s nice. Normally, the pressure of everything going on weighs me down, but tonight, playing Scrabble with him, I’m light and airy. Relaxed. My cheeks are flushed from the way the sleeves of his shirt are rolled up past his elbows and the way his hand has found my leg every so often under the table and grazes it over my pants.
“Thanks.” His voice is so low now it’s almost a whisper.
Something sparks inside me, and an idea comes to mind. Using some of my own tiles and ones from the board in front of us, I spell out a message to him.
My fingers shake as I drop each tile beside the next.
K-I-S-S
M-E
Chapter Thirty
Ilay the last tile down and look up at him, eagerly waiting, anticipation brimming through my fingers and making its way up my arms and down my whole body. His green eyes scan my message and then pin me in place. Warmth blooms in my belly as he slowly crawls over to my side, sitting beside me and turning my body to face him. My gaze drops to his mouth. His playful smirk is back, and it’s reeling me in like a fish to a lure.
He grabs my face and pulls me in, our lips colliding and his tongue immediately sliding in to meet mine. He draws in a quick, ragged breath, and I sigh as we kiss like we can’t get enough of each other. As my heart rate quickens, he grabs my crossed legs and picks me up, his fingers digging in and gripping the muscles on the back of my thighs. Then he walks us over to the couch, where he sits down with me on top of him. I wrap my arms around his neck and whimper from how badly I want him.
We can’t seem to pull apart, our breathing getting rougher, and before I know it, he turns me and lays my backdown on the couch as he climbs over top of me, his knees digging into the cushion on either side. Hair falls in my face, and I laugh as I reach up and tuck it behind his ears.
“I like you, Lucy,” he says as his lips meet mine again. “I like you a lot.”
“I like you too,” I whisper as I pull him down closer to me.
He pulls back for a moment and locks eyes with me. “I don’t want to be your friend,” he says roughly.
I say nothing, just close the distance between us as I grab the back of his head and bring him down, my lips parting impatiently for him. We can deal with that conversation tomorrow. Tonight, I don’t want to think about the implications of this decision. I just want to live in the moment and finally give in to him. Goosebumps erupt over my body, and my nipples are tight and sensitive as they rub against my clothes. He grazes my cheek before moving down, trailing my neck and collarbone. I shudder as he curls his finger around the base of my T-shirt and slowly pushes the fabric aside to touch my smooth skin.
