Chapter 3
DANNY ALWAYS HAD PUPPY EYES. IT’S PROBABLY WHY I considered him to be half golden retriever and half man.
I remember the first time I saw them. Although we lived in Greek Row for years, I saw him for the first time at the library.
It’s such a cliché, but I swear I lost my ability to speak properly when he set his gaze on me, and something in me melted a little.
Then he smiled, and I knew a guy like that would be dangerous. Not because he’s a bad person. No, the Danny I know—the guy who promoted mental health services on campus, volunteered to be the designated driver at parties—wouldn’t hurt a fly.
He’s dangerous because he makes me vulnerable. And being vulnerable means he has the capacity to hurt me.
Underneath my layers of protection, I have a fragile ego and, as my grandmother would say, un corazón de pollo—a chicken’s heart.
Tender and soft. Yeah, getting too close to Danny could leave me scarred and broken, and I don’t know how to handle that.
I can barely handle looking at him after The Incident.
He continues to stare deep into my eyes, and I spot a flicker of relief swimming in his irises as they roam my face. I can’t tell if he’s trying to make sure I’m okay or if he’s glad to see me. Is he glad to see me? A foreign sensation flutters in my stomach. Am I? Glad to see him?
“Are you okay?” he asks, letting go of my shoulders.
I had almost forgotten I slammed into him.
Almost being the key word, because the phantom of his touch on my arms still tingles over my skin. I fight the need to shudder.
“Yeah,” I mumble and then cough to clear my throat. Get it together, Mabs. “What are you doing here?”
Danny chuckles a little, shaking his head. There’s a sense of awkwardness lingering in his stance, which is unusual for him, as he always carries his body with confidence. He seems almost nervous.
“I should be asking you that question,” he retorts. “You’re the last person I expected to see here.”
“I came to visit Carmen,” I respond, and my words come off strained and more hostile than I intended them to. “If anything, I would say it’s weirder to see you.”
Danny cocks his head and arches a brow.
“I didn’t say seeing you was weird. It’s surprising,” he clarifies, trying to clear up the misunderstanding. “It’s great to see you.”
I ignore the way my heart does a flip at his words.
He’s being polite, I can tell. But I would be lying if I said the feeling isn’t mutual. After my argument with Carmen, Danny is a sight for sore eyes.
“So what are you doing here?” I inquire, shifting the subject.
“It’s complicated, but it’s a good thing you’re here,” he says, before pressing his lips together. A slight wrinkle creases his forehead and his stance becomes tighter. More serious. “We need to talk. It’s important.”
Nothing of what he just said sounds good. If anything, it’s the opposite because he’s being ominous and secretive about it.
“Okay.”
“Really important,” he emphasizes. “And private.”
“Okay,” I repeat, because I don’t trust my voice around him.
Danny’s fingers grab mine for half a second, and then he drops his hand by his side, as if I were made of fire.
I try to not let it bother me so much. Physical touch has never been my forte.
There’s not an actual reason why it should matter if Danny dropped my hand.
I should be glad he did it, because we’re currently on awkward terms.
Once upon a time, Danny had become a close friend, someone I could trust. Beyond any lingering crush I had on him, I always valued that he took the time to listen and care about me. Not many people in the Greek life understood my personality, but he did.
Then, he ruined it.
Or I did.
It doesn’t really matter.
“Where do you want to go to talk?” He puts his hands in his pockets as he speaks, almost like he’s trying to get a grip on himself. “I would prefer it if people didn’t see us . . .”
I frown and my spine straightens.
What the hell is that supposed to mean?
“Ashamed of being seen together?”
Danny seems to catch on and his eyes widen with regret.
“What? No, no, no. I didn’t mean it like that,” he assures me and sighs. “The topic is . . . sensitive.”
“I have no preference whatsoever,” I say. “You choose.”
He nods in agreement and leads me to the pool house behind Delta, which I’m grateful for because I would rather not go in there. Danny might’ve kicked out Brian when Cerys accused him of rape, but too many guys supported him. I don’t trust anyone who defends a rapist.
“How have you been?” he asks as we cross the backyard around the pool to reach the pool house.
I raise my brows. “Making small talk now?”
He gifts me a lopsided smile and scratches the back of his neck.
“I know you hate it, but indulge me.”
“Okay, then,” I accept, cringing internally for saying okay for the hundredth time since we started talking. I lose my words whenever I’m around him. “I’ve been good. Got a nice job opportunity working at BSIX. I rent a room in LA because the cost of living is insane, but I manage.”
“BSIX, huh?” he muses. “Seems like we both went after the big leagues.”
His comment piques my interest and I tilt my head slightly to the side.
When I left Westbrook, I did my best to stay away from everything that reminded me of the past, only keeping in touch with Carmen—who ignored me half of the time—and Cerys every once in a while.
But Danny? My wounded pride wouldn’t allow me to stay in contact with him.
No matter how much I missed him sometimes.
“Big leagues?” I dare to say in a soft whisper, partly ashamed I had to ask in the first place. “Did you end up following baseball after all?”
He lifts his hand in front of us and tilts it. “More or less. I got into law school, and I’ve decided I want to pursue sports law. Close enough, right?”
“What does your dad say about that?”
Danny’s laugh rumbles and I’m suddenly transported to last year, when we used to climb to Kappa’s rooftop and talk for hours while we shared nankhatai that his grandmother would send him.
I’ve always felt like Danny laughs like a child, the corners of his eyes creasing and his head tilting back, letting the cackles rip through the air.
A shiver trails down my spine, and I feel the tug of yearning squeezing my insides.
My knees turn to jelly and my mouth dries.
It should be embarrassing to admit that something so simple as a laugh can disrupt my collected system, almost sending it into overdrive.
Dangerous.
The alarm beeps in the back of my brain, giving me a bitter reminder. Why is it that he has so much power over me, yet he doesn’t acknowledge it? Well, maybe it’s more like he doesn’t want it.
Last year, before Brian’s murder happened, he chipped away all the boundaries I had around my heart to protect it and I let him into my soul.
What started as a little crush became much more with every deep conversation, with every moment we shared together.
All the times we avoided cleaning after a party to go to the rooftop to gaze at the stars and talk.
I would get too cold, and he would lend me his hoodie that always carried the scent of his cologne.
I remember every inside joke, and the way he would save his biggest and most radiant smiles for me.
He even started carrying green apple gummies because he knew they were my favorite. It was easy to fall for him.
Because Danny wasn’t just a good guy, he had a beautiful soul.
Has a beautiful soul, and I liked him. I thought, for a deluded second, that he felt the same way about me, so I made a move and kissed him.
If I close my eyes and wander to that moment, I can almost feel the warmth of his soft lips over mine.
For a second, I swear he let out a little moan before he kissed me back.
But I surely must’ve heard wrong, because apparently the idea of kissing me wasn’t so appealing. Or maybe I’m just a terrible kisser. After those seconds of pure bliss, he grabbed my arms and pulled away before mumbling words I will never forget: This isn’t right.
It was over before it even truly began.
I had been drinking and partying a lot, but I remember every detail about that night. The memory of it haunts me.
“Oh, I’m hoping to find out soon enough.”
“You haven’t told him?”
“Telling Papa I won’t pursue corporate law?” He shakes his head with a hint of humor. It vanishes quickly as his eyes turn somber for a second. “No. I haven’t told anyone.”
“Oh,” I mumble, the sound escaping me as my brain struggles to process the meaning of his words.
He hasn’t told anyone, yet he told me.
My throat closes and I blink rapidly, because for a moment it feels as if we’re the same people we were last year. Two friends confiding in each other, expressing dreams that were far too scary to say in the daylight. It gets harder to breathe the more I dwell on it.
I want to say I’m happy for him, that I’m grateful he still trusts me enough to share this with me.
But all I can think about is how I’ve lost a friend because I was stupid enough to develop feelings for him.
Now, we’re nothing but strangers and his confession is just a weird reminder of that because, as a stranger, I don’t know what to say.
Maybe, in the future, when I’m not tormented by the past and I have better control over my emotions, I could reach out and thank him for trusting me with this news.
I would hug him. But, right now, it feels like he’s only telling me because, after we’re done here, we’re probably not going to see each other ever again.
Danny coughs awkwardly and scratches the back of his neck again, something that has become a nervous tic for him. We’ve run out of things to talk about, and we both know it.