Strangers To Lovers

Chapter Thirty

Dylan was the one who informed me that Luke's house was ready for us to move in right away when we arrived there on Saturday afternoon. He did this because he wanted to reassure me. The home that Luke owned was prepared for us to move in.

"Really?" I asked, my heart thudding in my chest as I checked the date on my phone. August 1 was still displayed on the screen, which felt like a sudden leap into reality. "They told me it was urgent," Dylan said, moving past me to open the front door. "Everything’s ready. I paid in cash in advance, so the process went a lot quicker."

I hesitated, scratching the back of my neck. "Does Luke even know we’re here?" I asked, feeling a pang of guilt. "He went out with Channing this morning."

Dylan waved a hand dismissively. "He doesn’t need to be here for this," he said with a smirk. "Better that he’s not."

There was something about the way Dylan said it that made me uneasy. Luke had been nothing but supportive, but now it felt like I was betraying him somehow, moving into this space without him even being aware of it. Still, it was too late to back out.

I followed Dylan up the stairs quickly, trying to shake off the uncomfortable feeling. My brother, Landen, and Donna hurried behind us, their excitement palpable.

"Do you believe this?" Donna gasped as soon as she entered the house. Her wide-eyed gaze swept over the living room, her mouth hanging open in astonishment. "I can’t believe this is where you’re going to be living!"

"The ceilings are so high," she marveled, kicking off her shoes at the door. "I love it."

Landen, however, looked less impressed. He shot a look at me, his expression unreadable, as he slowly made his way toward the stairs. "Is Levi's room here?" he asked, a mix of curiosity and unease in his tone.

I grabbed his arm gently before he could head off alone. "Maybe we should all stick together for now," I suggested with a grin, trying to lighten the mood. "Let’s explore the kitchen first."

Reluctantly, he allowed me to pull him toward the kitchen, where Dylan was already pulling out some documents and a tablet from his briefcase. "I brought a few pictures of the house that I thought you might want to see," he said, holding up the tablet.

I tried to act casual as I sat down at the table next to him, my eyes flickering nervously between him and the sleek device in his hand. "Is there anything you’d like to drink?" Dylan asked as he moved toward the cabinets. He was so calm, so at ease, that it almost felt like he belonged in this house more than I did.

I felt Landen tense beside me as Dylan handed us paper cups from the cabinet. "Isn't it a little crude to use paper cups in a place like this?" Dylan chuckled, tilting his head slightly as a smirk formed at the corner of his lips. His presence was unshakeable, like he had everything figured out.

"Nothing fancy today," I replied with a small smile, trying to play along. My mind, however, kept wandering to Luke. Would he be okay with all of this? Would he feel like I was pushing him away by settling in here with Landen and Donna?

Dylan opened up the camera roll on the tablet and handed it to me. I scrolled through the images of the Poughkeepsie house. It was breathtaking—a modern style with high ceilings, polished hardwood floors, and a sleek kitchen. It looked too good to be true.

"This is beautiful," I murmured, more to myself than anyone else.

Dylan leaned closer, his arm brushing against mine. The touch sent a tingle down my spine, one I hadn’t expected. I shifted slightly, trying to focus on the pictures instead of the sudden awareness of how close he was. "You deserve it," Dylan said softly, his voice low and warm. "You’ve been through a lot."

I glanced up at him, feeling a mix of gratitude and something else I couldn’t quite name. There was an intensity in his gaze, something deeper that I hadn’t noticed before. "Thank you," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper.

Landen, oblivious to the undercurrent between Dylan and me, snatched the tablet out of my hands, scrutinizing the pictures with a furrowed brow. "How much is rent?" he asked, his tone sharp. I could tell he was still skeptical about accepting help from Dylan.

"It’s not about the money," Dylan replied, leaning back in his chair. "If you can afford over $800 a month, that’s fine with me."

I swallowed, feeling a knot form in my throat. $800 was a generous offer, far below what the place was actually worth, but I couldn’t help feeling guilty. "I can handle that," I said, my voice a little shaky.

Dylan’s gaze lingered on me for a moment before he nodded. "Good. Then we’re settled."

There was a strange tension in the room, something heavy and unspoken. I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more going on here than just moving into a new house. Dylan’s offer was generous, almost too generous, and I wondered what his true motivations were.

Donna broke the silence by letting out a low whistle. "This place is amazing. We’re gonna be living like royalty," she joked, though I could see the excitement in her eyes.

Landen, however, remained quiet, his lips pressed into a thin line as he glared at Dylan. I could tell he didn’t trust him. And maybe, deep down, I didn’t either.

After a few more moments of uncomfortable silence, I stood up, my fingers trembling slightly. "I think I’ll check out the rest of the house."

As I turned to leave, Dylan reached out and grabbed my wrist gently. The touch sent a shiver through me, one I tried to ignore. "Ella," he said softly, his voice barely audible, "you don’t have to feel guilty about this. It’s okay to accept help."

I met his gaze, my heart pounding in my chest. For a moment, it felt like we were the only two people in the room. I could feel the heat rising between us, the tension thickening like a storm about to break. His fingers lingered on my wrist, his touch light but firm.

"I know," I whispered, though I wasn’t sure if I believed it.

Before I could say anything else, Landen cleared his throat loudly, snapping us both out of the moment. I pulled my hand away from Dylan quickly, trying to act like nothing had happened.

"Let’s go check out Levi’s room," Landen muttered, heading for the stairs.

As I followed my brother upstairs, I couldn’t stop thinking about the way Dylan’s touch had affected me. It wasn’t right. Luke was the one I was with, not Dylan. But something about Dylan—his confidence, his charm—made it hard to ignore the way he made me feel.

Once we were upstairs, I tried to focus on the task at hand. Levi’s room was just as I remembered it: neat, organized, and a little too sterile. It was clear that no one had used it in a long time.

"I’ll help you set up your things later," I said to Landen, trying to shake off the lingering thoughts of Dylan.

But even as I busied myself with unpacking boxes and arranging furniture, I couldn’t escape the feeling that something between Dylan and me had shifted. And I wasn’t sure what to do about it.