Chapter 8 #2
The words were out before I could stop myself.
Maybe a year ago, the answer would have been yes to that question, but I knew deep in my bones that it was no longer true.
We had a connection, a relationship where we both shared things no one knew about.
And we both wanted to kiss the other. If that display on the field was any indication.
But we haven't talked about that; we just swept it under the rug and went on pretending.
“You know me very well, Rosebud.” There he went again, using nicknames just to piss me off. “You and I are friends.”
The word left a sour taste in my mouth. You didn't want to kiss your friends.
Or maybe, if you were Derek, you wouldn’t have cared who you kissed.
“What's that look for?” he asked, his eyes roaming my face.
I wasn't sure if I grimaced, looked shocked, or hurt, so instead I pulled my lips into my practiced smile. The one I used to wear while on stage.
“Nothing. Let's go, we should catch up to them,” I motioned towards the trail. “I have to be a good friend to Daisy, too.”
I pushed the word 'friend' like an offended toddler, but I didn't care. Why did I even for a second think I had a chance with him? I was so delusional.
I verbally berated myself as Derek obliged and we walked the trail in silence. Yet, despite the turmoil of my emotions when it came to him, it wasn't an uncomfortable, heavy silence. It was safe.
“I think I see her,” Dex muttered and pointed at the two figures settling onto the bench. Jeremy reached to wrap his arm over Daisy's shoulder just like Derek did with me earlier. She leaned into his touch and rested her head on his shoulder.
My heart did a little happy dance watching them, and I felt my lips pull into a smile. I just loved love.
“Let's sit,” Dex offered, his eyes on me instead of our mission, and pulled me to a nearby bench.
We were far enough to give them privacy, but close enough in case anything went wrong.
Plus, we had an amazing view of the sunset.
We weren't up enough for the full show, but still, the way the blues slowly turned to pink fascinated me.
“It's so pretty up here, I used to come all the time when we would run.”
“Why'd you stop?” I asked without thinking. Since we were friends, I could ask questions.
“My injury. Sunrise runs were our thing with Max and Maddox. Now they do it with Ivy instead of me.”
I contemplated his words. “Maybe you should join them tomorrow morning.”
Derek shrugged. “It's not that simple.”
“Do you have running shoes?” I asked, turning to look at me, only to find his eyes on me. “And workout clothes?”
He slowly grinned. “Yeah...”
“Oh, look, you're ready to run!” I matched his grin. “Just show up. Even if you end up walking, I think you can do it. The only one stopping you from doing it is yourself. Get out of your own way and enjoy the run.”
“You sound like my therapist. I'm scared to re-injure myself, and also I’m much slower than they are, so I stopped joining.”
I think that was one of the first times he admitted it out loud, and it was a great first step toward his mental recovery.
“I know,” I nodded, because I did. “But if you let that fear control you, you'll just miss out on life. You should do the things that scare you.” Dex arched his brow. “Okay, maybe don't jump out of a plane or anything crazy like that.”
That made him laugh, and my grin grew wider. I loved to be the reason he smiled again. I missed his goofy self but enjoyed getting to know him on such a deeper, intimate level.
“Thanks, Dr Phil.”
“Yeah, I mean, don't take my advice. I learned it all through making the same mistake and the hard way, so I'm in no way a reliable source.”
He squinted at me, his blue eyes sparkling. “You turned out pretty well, and you still dance.”
“I do it because it scares me. I blast the music so I don’t hear the telling pop if I mess up my hip again.
And because if I miss a day, I might not get another chance.
” I took a deep breath, not even realizing my voice was shaking.
“I feel like I have to completely reinvent myself because I don't know who I am if I'm not Rosie the ballerina.”
Since we were swapping confessions, there was no point letting him believe I had my shit together. I was the furthest from it.
Realization dawned on him. “That's why you ask to be called Rosalie, try and say you don't love pink...”
A low laugh escaped me. “Guilty. I'm just trying so hard to figure out where I fit in.”
“You can still be a dancer.”
I shook my head. “An injury like this, plus a re-injury, I would never make it in a company. And I don't want to teach. I love kids, but I don't want someone else reaching my goals instead of me. Does that make me a horrible person?”
Dex wrapped his arm around my shoulders and brought me closer. I stopped fighting the warmth spreading through me, and I leaned into his touch, craving his safety. My head fell onto his chest, and I let his scent wrap around me like a cozy blanket.
“It doesn't, and despite your aversion to dance teaching, you're one hell of a Pilates teacher.”
I smiled into his chest. “Yeah, but my parents think I need to have a real job.”
“They were happy for you to be a ballerina, but now they want a real job? What about Aaron?”
“He's going to law school after graduation, soccer is just fun, it can't be his whole life,” I rolled my eyes, even if he couldn't see it.
When you come from a family with limited resources, they were very picky about what it was spent on and how we needed to be set up for a better life.
Dex let out a low whistle. “Damn, and here I am with a still undeclared major.”
“Though your main goal is soccer,” I twisted my face, looking at him.
“I love it, but I have enough self-awareness to know I'm not nearly as good as Max. I could play, but I might never make the big leagues. In case you haven't noticed, I'm a go big or go home kind of guy.”
A half smile curled in the corner of his lips, and my heart beat faster at the sight of it. His fingers subconsciously tangled into my hair as he played with it. My breathing became irregular, and I felt my face burn. One simple platonic touch from him was driving me crazy.
“Well... guess the reason we are such good friends is that we both suck at being adults.”
Derek laughed, and my heart swelled. For someone who used to always laugh and make jokes, I cherished these moments when I was the reason he was in a good mood.
And the way he looked at me, his blue eyes intense and unyielding, boring into me, like he could read me as an open book.
We were friends. I reminded myself. Nothing more.
I swallowed the sudden lump in my throat, and after a quick glance towards Daisy, I focused on the sunset. The sky turned fully pink, and the tops were slowly being wrapped in darkness.
“It's beautiful,” I muttered, watching the colors change in front of my eyes.
“Yeah,” Dex agreed, his breath tickling me. “Beautiful.”
I glanced back at him, only to find his eyes still staring at me. Lifting my head off his chest, I realized how much closer we were. I could feel his breath on my lips as his fingers untangled from my hair and came to rest on the nape of my neck.
All it took was for one of us to lean closer and close the distance.
His blue eyes flashed with desire that I recognized from the night at the soccer field, and his eyes dropped to my lips. This time I didn't wear any lip-gloss and I self-consciously licked them.
A low groan sounded from Derek's throat, and I was convinced he was going to kiss me. It was the perfect time, with the sunset, and after we both opened up. He couldn't say we were just friends any longer.
Friends didn't look at each other the way he devoured me.
Friends didn't share their deepest secrets with each other.
This wasn't all in my head.
He had to like me.
His thumb caressed my flushed cheek absently, like he was waging a war inside his head, trying to decide whether to kiss me or not.
It was a decision, because he was in the process of earning back his place on the team where he played with my overprotective brother.
Trust was already fragile between all of them, and they didn't think Dex could deliver as a striker anymore.
The last thing he needed was me to complicate this for him.
I gently pulled away, out of his reach, and settled on the other side of the bench. My eyes burned with unshed tears as I denied myself the thing I wanted the most since I met him.
Instead, I watched as Daisy and Jeremy exchanged their perfect first kiss under the sunset.
I cleared my throat and turned to face Dex. His jaw was tense, and his dark eyes stared at the floor.
“We should go,” I muttered, my voice hoarse from all the emotions. “I think Daisy is going to be fine.”
He absently nodded, trying to even remember why we came here in the first place. “Cool.”
“Derek,” I called after him as he stood. “About earlier...”
“Don't worry, it was a mistake,” he said, shaking his head.
The knife I plunged into my chest twisted, and it took all those years of training and handling pain to not let my tears slip.
“So, we're okay?” I asked, my voice all raspy.
“We're good,” he nodded, pushing his hands in his pockets. “Let's go.”
We didn't talk all the way back. Not a single word, and I couldn't help but wonder that we were not okay, that I broke us even before we had a chance to become something more.
So, after he dropped me off at the dorm silently, only saying a tentative good night and driving off, I cried under the hot sprays of the shower, before crawling into bed with my phone.
I scrolled through the endless acoustic covers I had saved and made a new playlist called “If You’re Still Listening.”