9 - Lane #2
“No, no emergency, I promise,” I said, taking my hair out of its severe ponytail and massaging the tension from my scalp. “I just needed to run an errand.”
Nancy paused. “An errand?”
“Yes,” I said defensively.
“Lane, when do you ever give up the chance to work down to the last minute just for an errand?” She said the word like it was an expletive.
“Does it really surprise you that I have a life outside of the office, Nance?” I asked.
“Well, yes, considering the fact that you’ve made the office your life for the past, what, five years? Have you even dated at all in that time?” she pressed.
“What does dating have to do with anything?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe the fact that I’m willing to bet your little errand had something to do with the three new house pets you’re keeping around your home,” she said glibly. “Did you have to run home to feed them?”
I chortled at that, amused despite the sheer panic that had been chasing my thoughts earlier. I leaned one hand against the counter. “Nance, how the hell do you even know these things?”
“Intuition. Also, you left a tab for The Blocks Meat Market open on the work computer. Just thought I’d let you know,” she replied.
I groaned, slapping my palm across my forehead.
“No, it’s okay, don’t worry. I made sure the evidence was thoroughly disposed of. But I’d keep an eye on the domestic bliss meter, Laney. It might start edging out that whip-sharp mind I love so much.”
“No chance in hell,” I shot back, even though it was silly of me to have been in such a rush I forgot to turn off the computer.
I was grateful for the shift that Nance always brought, and the way everything felt lighter when I spoke to her.
“I’m enjoying their company. I…I don’t think I ever realized just how lonely it could be sometimes. It’s nice to live around people again.”
As I made the confession, I could feel my heart scraped raw with the brutal honesty of it.
Truth was, I’d been so alone for such a long time that I’d forgotten what it felt like to be part of a unit.
Living with my mother hadn’t felt like a real home.
My only feeling of home came from Uncle Ricky, and after he moved to Switzerland around the time I started college, I’d truly been on my own.
With the exception of Nance, I literally had no one. And maybe, even just temporarily, she was no longer the exception.
“Aw. You sound fond of them,” she teased.
“Fuck off, Nance.”
“Oh, thank goodness. I was just starting to think we lost you.”
We spoke for a bit longer, with her catching me up on what was happening in her personal life as well before we ended the call.
I decided that I might as well start cooking and headed into the pantry to get a few things.
Well, calling the narrow, walk-in closet just off the kitchen perimeter a “pantry” was being rather generous. But I liked to dream.
The deep floor-to-ceiling wrap-around shelves were lined with dry goods, canned items and a few small appliances that I had yet to properly unpack even after all these months.
I tugged on the single overhead pull-string bulb and blinked in the harsh lighting as I attempted to find the ingredients I was looking for.
I was just reaching up for a can on the top shelf when I heard someone slip into the pantry behind me and close the door with a discreet click.
Before I could even turn around completely, a massive, heat-radiating frame pressed forward, boxing me into the tight corner between the shelves and the wall.
Somehow, I knew exactly who this was.
“I’m only going to ask you this once, Lane.
What exactly are your intentions with Sy, huh?
Are you trying to fuck with his head or something?
” Dax’s harsh whisper sent chills down my spine and I twisted around in the tiny space he’d cornered me into.
I held out my forearm and shoved him back as hard as I could, reminiscent of the way he’d knocked back the thug that tried to mess with us in the iron yard.
Dax obviously wasn’t expecting that, because he staggered backwards for the step or two it took for his back to slam into the door. So much for being quiet. But I wasn’t about to let him think he could control my space this way.
In the yellowish light of the pantry, Dax suddenly didn’t look as miserable as he had for the past week or so.
He was wearing the same expression he had when he was watching me and Silas in the construction zone.
It was an accusatory glare, a hyperfocused awareness that raised the hair on the back of my neck.
If I didn’t know any better, I’d have thought he hated me, but I did know better.
“Not that it’s any of your business, but I have no intentions with any of you,” I hissed the words out, careful to enunciate each syllable for him so he didn’t misunderstand me.
His gaze sharpened.
A similar rush of adrenaline that I felt on the back of his bike suddenly filled my veins. He took a step closer.
“No intentions with any of us, huh?” he repeated. “That’s a shame.”
I didn’t have time to formulate a comeback because Dax grabbed my waist and pressed my body against his. This time, there was no Bear to interrupt us, or the existential realization that we were outside and in public.
Here, we were in arguably the most private place in this house, hidden away where only we knew the absolute carelessness we were about to engage in.
But Dax kissed me like he couldn’t have given less of a fuck.
He kissed me like we were running out of air in this closet and I was the only oxygen left.
He kissed me like he was trying to translate every stupid comment and snide remark he’d made into an apology his ego couldn’t process but his body was hellbent on offering mine.
And finally, for the first time since I learned about pressure, my mind went blank as I kissed him back.