Page 74 of New Girl in Town
Chapter Fifteen
Isighed, rolling over in my bed. I’d gotten zero rest after my sudden departure from Grant’s. It was impossible to sleep well when our exchange kept replaying through my mind.
Baby. I’m sorry.
I groaned and yanked my pillow over my head. This wasn’t how I’d envisioned spending my night—even without following Mel’s advice, I had still ended up lying sleepless in bed while I cringed, wanting to rewind time so last night never happened. Time manipulation wasn’t my superpower, but overthinking? Oh, I had a supernatural ability when it came to overthinking.
Tossing the pillow to the side, I stood and grimaced when I caught sight of my reflection in the mirror. My eyes had dark circles under them, my hair was bedraggled from tossing and turning, and my skin was pale—all signs that told on my inability to sleep through the night.
I didn’t mean to do this. I’m sorry.
“You and me both,” I sighed at my reflection and pulled my hair into a bun. At least it was Sunday and I wouldn’t have to face the world today if I didn’t feel like it. Though I had said I was going to return the Cartier necklace today.
Just the thought of facing Grant again, his gift in hand, made my stomach churn.
“Right.” I squared my shoulders and took in a deep, calming breath. I didn’t want to do it but it had to be done. I walked to my bedroom door and went to open it, but a sudden rustling on the other side made me freeze.
I tilted my head to the side and listened, because it hadn’t just been the settling of the apartment, or the old building creaking, or the banging of copper pipes in the winter. It evenfeltdifferent. Like someone was in my apartment with me.
A soft footfall made my eyes widen. Someonewasin my apartment, moving between my living room and kitchen. I cursed when I remembered I’d left my phone in the living room in an attempt to quiet my mind—and to stop myself from googling Grant just to see his face.
What was I supposed to do with an intruder in my living room? What were they looking for? A pot banged and there was a muffled curse that stopped me short. The fridge closed and I narrowed my eyes when I caught the scent of cooking bacon.
What kind of thief made Sunday breakfast?
I went rigid. Best case it was Melinda. Worst...worst case was Grant. At this point, I would take a burglar. Anything but face the man who just last night had told me he couldn’t.
I shouldn’t have said that. It’s not okay.
It couldn’t be Grant, not when I’d asked him to stop with the gifts.
The jangling of silverware made me frown. Someone had started setting the table, and from the smell had even made coffee. How did ‘no gifts’ translate to ‘please break into my apartment and make me breakfast’?
It didn’t. It couldn’t. I wouldn’t allow it to.
I stomped forward and threw the door open, fully prepared to tell Grant where he could stick his well-meaning but totally space-violating breakfast, but no sooner had I cleared the door than I tripped over my own feet in my haste to get back into my bedroom.
There, standing in my kitchen, was a familiar form. But this one wasn’t wearing plaid, or work boots—hell, he wasn’t even a blond—but I would recognize this man anywhere.
“Dylan,” I whispered, backpedaling so fast I missed my bedroom door and banged into the wall.
“Good morning, darling.” He flashed me a thousand-watt smile and leaned against the table, which he had set for a breakfast for two. The flowers were gone but the Cartier necklace box lay open, the diamonds winking at me in the morning light. “I thought you’d never wake up. Do you make it a habit of sleeping in now?”
“You need to leave.” I gestured at the door but my hand shook.
“Breakfast first.” He pulled out a chair for me. “Now sit.”
“I don’t—“
“Sit.” His hands tightened on the chair and I felt it as surely as if his hands were on me. It only took me another second to decide, and then I stepped forward, toward the man I’d thought I’d left behind. My feet felt encased in cement as I approached the table. I glanced to the Cartier necklace and back up to Dylan.
“You sent the necklace,” I whispered, not trusting myself to speak at a higher volume. If I did, I’d scream.
Although...that wasn’t a bad idea. I cast a sidelong look at the door as I weighed my options.
“Sit, Aurora.” Dylan’s hand landed on my shoulder and I jerked away. “Your breakfast is getting cold.” There was chastisement in his voice, and I glared at him, but I sat.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, crossing my arms and watching him as he settled in to his seat.
