14. Dario
CHAPTER 14
Dario
Life has been suspiciously calm since the Thanksgiving trip. I’m not used to calm. Instinctively, I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop.
So when my doorbell sounds on Wednesday evening, I’m kind of not surprised that I jump three feet off the ground and scare the pants off Queenie, even though I know I’m being ridiculous.
“People are allowed to ring the doorbell,” I mutter to myself as I make my way to the front of the house. “Otherwise, how would I know anyone’s outside?”
By the time I reach for the handle, I’ve convinced myself it’s simply a delivery for something I’ve ordered online and forgotten about. I’m holding off purchasing big things like furniture until I’m more financially stable, but there are still plenty of little bits and pieces I’m slowly getting together. Off the top of my head, I can’t think of what this could be, but perhaps it’s just taken the package a while to make its way to me. It could be a nice surprise.
When I open the door, I get a surprise all right. I’ve got a polite smile on my face to greet the driver…except it’s not a delivery. It’s Lochlan. And he looks extremely stressed out.
“I’m sorry I didn’t text or call or whatever to ask if I could come over,” he blurts out before I’ve even fully got the door open. Rocky’s at his feet on his leash and immediately strains at the sight of Queen as she rushes over to say hello. “Is it okay if I come in? Are you busy? You’re probably busy. This is a bad idea. I should just go. I’m sorry, I just?—”
“Lochlan,” I cry with a nervous laugh. “Are you okay? No, I’m not busy. Yes, you can come in.”
He looks at me sheepishly and slips his hands into his jeans pockets, despite the way Rocky’s leash is tugging at his wrist. “Are you sure you’re not making dinner or anything?”
I shake my head. “I was thinking about it but haven’t started yet. You’d be more than welcome to stay and join me, if you like? I was considering throwing together a stir fry, but I could be talked into something covered in cheese if you need comfort food.”
He genuinely doesn’t look great. The entire time we’ve been friends, he’s usually the cool and collected one, always ready to crack a joke. But now he’s all worked up again. Like…
Oh. Like the state he was in at my parents’ house after he found out what happened between Shane and I. By the morning and our drive back, I really thought he was okay with it all. Hell, I felt the best I ever had since I’d gotten away from that bastard. Has Lochlan gone down another rabbit hole fretting over me?
If I hadn’t been so weak in the first place, he wouldn’t be so consumed about avenging my honor or whatever, I’m sure. A fresh wave of shame rushes through me as I step aside and let him and Rocky inside my house.
“Uh, dinner sounds nice,” he says as he toes his shoes off. “Great, actually. Thank you. But can we talk first?”
“Of course,” I say, sincerely worried what this conversation is going to entail. But I don’t think there’s going to be any putting it off with Lochlan in this condition, so it’s probably best to get it over and done with as soon as possible. “Shall I get us some drinks?”
Lochlan releases Rocky and he and Queenie run off to play. “Yes, please,” he says with a small smile. “Just water or iced tea, though. Whatever you have open.”
So this isn’t a ‘crack a beer and chat’ sort of situation. I don’t know if that makes things better or worse. Probably worse.
Rather than dwell on it, I nod and head to the kitchen to fetch a couple of glasses of water with ice and—because my mother’s voice is echoing in my ears—some chips and dip in case he needs something to nibble on. My stomach is in knots, and I can’t even think about taking a bite of anything right now. But remembering my manners helps give me a tiny sense of control, at least.
Lochlan is wringing his hands by the time I set everything on the coffee table and settle myself on the other end of the sofa. I’m so used to his rambunctious personality that I’m at a loss of how to console him when he seems completely tongue-tied. Then I remember that he finished a shift this morning, and inspiration hits me.
“Did something happen at work?” I ask.
I’d never want him to be traumatized after a bad call or for anyone to get hurt. But at least if he is troubled by something that he witnessed on the job, I’d like to be there for him. In fact, I’d be honored if he turned to me for comfort or advice, especially after how fiercely he defended me on Thanksgiving.
He blinks and seems to register what I said. “Oh, no,” he says, shaking his head before he frowns. “I mean, yeah, it happened at work. But it was a conversation, not a car wreck or anything.”
“Okay, good,” I say, genuinely relieved. “Is it something I can help with, or do you just need space to rant?”
“It’s, um, about you,” he says.
All the times I expected him to be awkward at my parents’ house and he wasn’t, yet now he looks like he wants to crawl out of his skin.
I know the feeling.
Holy fuck. What have I done to piss him off this badly?
“I’m sorry,” I blurt automatically, my mind immediately racing through all our recent calls and texts. Nothing comes to mind that could have unsettled him like this, but what if I’ve been wrapped up in my own feelings and worries and didn’t notice saying something insensitive? I’ll be so distraught if I’ve been that selfish.
My words seem to shake something loose in him, though. He refocuses and meets my gaze with blazing eyes. “What? No! You haven’t done anything wrong or bad or…Jesus, Mary and Joseph, I’m already fucking this all up.”
“You’re not fucking anything up,” I assure him softly, worry eating me up inside.
He drags his hand down his face and then rubs the reddish stubble on his chin. He’s so gorgeous even when he’s sad. But I don’t deserve to be ogling him right now when I’ve clearly done something awful.
Then I take a deep breath and remember this is Lochlan I’m talking to, not Shane. Spiraling isn’t going to help anyone, especially not him if that’s what he’s come here for. I should be honored I’m the one he wants to trust like that.
I am worthy, I repeat silently. I am strong. I am loved.
Lochlan isn’t going to bite my head off, I’m sure of it. I need to be honest with how I’m feeling. That’s what my therapist has been drilling into me lately, anyway.
“You are kind of freaking me out, though,” I admit with a wince. “Are you sure I didn’t miss your birthday or something?”
Thankfully, that gets a small laugh out of him. “Naw, you’re good. My birthday’s not till March. I mean it, you haven’t done anything wrong. This freak out is all on me and my dumb ass. I just…dude, my head is swimming. I want to say so many things, but I have no clue where to start, and I’m worried that if I say the wrong thing you’re gonna hate me and I’m going to ruin everything.”
My jaw drops open as I try and process all he’s said. “I don’t think I could ever hate you,” is what comes out of my mouth first. “What would you ruin?”
“Our friendship,” he says immediately. That does make my guts twist. His friendship is so important to me.
Oh…god. He couldn’t have found out how I really feel about him, could he? Is he going to accuse me right now of being a creep and tell me to back off? Shame rinses through me like acid and my mouth is suddenly dry.
I reach for my water and take a gulp, focusing on the bobbing ice cubes instead of facing him, like a coward.
“If I’ve ever done anything to make you uncomfortable, I’m so sorry,” I say breathlessly, tears pricking at my eyes.
“You haven’t,” he says, sounding like he’s pleading. The next thing I know is he’s plucking the glass from my hand, setting it back on its coaster, then…wrapping his hands around mine.
My breath hitches. There’s no one here to impress. Why’s he touching me like this?
“I’m doing this all wrong,” he says woefully. “I can’t get the words out, so you’re making up ones to fill the blank spaces and they’re all the opposite of how I’m feeling and what I’m completely failing to say. Dario…I…”
He sounds so anguished, I dare to lift my gaze and look into his beautiful green eyes. There’s something about them that makes me think of Queenie at the shelter, desperately begging me to notice her, to love her. The feeling is so strong and sudden that a lump rises in my throat, and I lose the battle with the tears that have been clinging to my lashes.
“No, don’t cry,” he says, reaching up to brush them away. “I never want to make you cry, ever.”
“I never want to make you upset like this,” I counter him. “Please—please tell what’s wrong so I can fix it.”
He inhales then lets it out slowly and shakily. “There’s nothing wrong …or at least you haven’t done anything wrong. And I don’t want you to feel you have to fix anything. But if I stop dragging my feet and explain myself already, we can both, like, take a step back and see how we feel, right?”
My nerves are still off the chart, but I still nod. Anything is better than this suspense.
“Absolutely,” I say, shifting my hands so we’re holding onto each other now. “You can always talk to me.”
He nods back at me, but it still takes him several moments to open his mouth again. “Dario…I…I like you,” he manages to utter. “I’m actually kind of obsessed with you. Not in a stalker way!” he practically yells, squeezing my hands. “I just mean…you’re who I think about all the time. When I wake up and when I go to sleep. I want to tell you every single thing I’m doing just to talk to you. You have no idea how much I’ve stopped myself from narrating all the boring shit I do, like you need to know whenever I walk Rocky or brush my teeth or what I’m watching on the damn TV.”
He rolls his eyes and laughs. However, it seems like I’ve stopped breathing. I’m not quite sure what’s going on here.
“But that’s how I feel,” he continues. “Like everything is so exciting now because I want to tell you about it. And…and I can’t stop thinking about what you went through with Shane. I’m so angry with nowhere to put all that energy. I can’t bear that he crushed you like that. I don’t even know what he looks like, but I’ve probably punched his face a million times in my mind already. But then I remember how you got away from him and started a whole new life—here! In my little town! And that meant we got to be buddies, and I don’t want you to ever call yourself weak or stupid or a coward ever again because you’re none of those things! You’re amazing and I always thought it was wild you even wanted to be my friend so…”
He bites his lip and flinches.
“Fuck. I’ve barged my way into your life over and over again, and here I am, word vomiting without even asking you how you’re feeling or if you’d be interested in me at all like that. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be a jerk. I’d never, ever want to make you feel pressured or trapped. I want the opposite! I want to give you all the support and freedom you deserve. So, um, what do you think?”
“What do I think…about you?” I say, trying to pick through the many threads of consciousness he just threw out in less than two minutes. “Lochlan, you’re amazing,” I say with every ounce of conviction I possess. “I know we’ve covered this several times before, but I still can’t work out in what timeline you’d want to be my friend. I’m just glad it’s this one. And the way you went above and beyond to support me with my family was next level.” I laugh and try and break the tension with a joke. “How could I ever hate my fake boyfriend?”
He swallows, looking dead serious still. “What if it wasn’t fake?”
A shiver runs all over my body. “What?” I croak.
“Being your boyfriend,” he says, his voice small but his gaze locked with mine. “What if I didn’t want that to be fake?”
I look down at where he’s still clinging to my hands, then back up at him. My ears are ringing, and my heart is suddenly racing a million miles an hour. He can’t be saying what I think he’s saying.
Can he?
“But…you’re straight?” I rasp.
A nervous smile tweaks one corner of his mouth, and he gives a lopsided shrug. “What if I’m not?”
No. This isn’t happening. It’s got to be some sort of sick joke. “Then you could date any guy you wanted,” I say. The ‘duh’ is left unsaid but it’s heavily implied.
He closes his eyes and inhales deeply. “I don’t want to date any guy,” he says softly. “I’ve never wanted to date a guy before. But…I think I want to date you, Dario.”
Words fail me. My skin is prickling all over and I can’t seem to get enough air into my lungs. “D-date me?” I stutter.
He peeks through his rose gold lashes at me. “I mean, we’re kind of already dating, right? We spend so much time together and I met your family. I just thought…only if it would be something you’d want…that we could try, um, other stuff, too.”
“Like what?” I ask, terrified of what I want the answer to be. This can’t be really happening.
“Like, uh, kissing…maybe?” Lochlan says with a grimace, as if he’s just as terrified as I am.
Because as much as I’ve been crushing on Lochlan since we met, I think I only did that because him being straight made it feel safe. Shane broke me in ways I’ve been afraid I’ll never recover from. So I’d be a fool if I wasn’t afraid of getting into anything with another guy. But Lochlan isn’t just some random guy. I trust him. And clearly this is an enormous deal for him. He wouldn’t be telling me this now if he wasn’t sure about how he was feeling, right?
Besides…nothing could ever hurt me the way Shane did, I’m sure. If I don’t take this chance right now, I think I’ll regret it for the rest of my life.
“You want to kiss me?” I ask in complete disbelief.
If this turns out to be a fever dream, I’m going to be so mad. Because I’ve pictured so many insane scenarios where Lochlan Bell asks me that very question, but they mostly involved us being on a spaceship that’s about to crash, forcing him to confess his true feelings before we possibly die.
If I die now, I’m going to be even more pissed.
“Yes,” he says with conviction, making my head spin. “I’ve thought a lot about it and it’s obviously brand-new territory for me, but I’d really like to try. But only if you’d like that as well, because you’re not some sort of experiment! You’re my friend and I respect you. But I also think I’d really like to try touching you like a boyfriend might if that’s something you?—”
He would have probably kept rambling on like that, tying himself in knots over my consent all night if I let him. So I don’t.
Before he can worry himself into oblivion and change his mind, I take him up on his offer of a scientific experiment to see how he might feel about kissing me.
By grabbing the front of his T-shirt and crashing my mouth against his.