8. Chapter 8
Dane
“You good?” Theo eyes me over his dark-rimmed glasses, skeptically narrowing his gaze.
“Yeah.” I clear my throat and turn from where I may or may not have been spying on the two women meticulously tying greenery on the outside aisle chairs across the lawn from us. “Just checking out the view.”
A low chuckle rumbles through my friend as he sticks his hands in the front pockets of his slacks. “You’ve seen this view probably twenty times and not once have you leaned around a pillar, keeping your body hidden like you’re doing your hardest not to be seen, while staring at it.”
I roll my head toward him, schooling my features into a bored expression. “What are you getting at?”
Theo’s eyebrows lift and he tips his head toward where Jamie and Daria are working. “Maid of honor catch your eye? Or are you pining for your brother’s fiancée?”
I tug at my shirt collar, suddenly feeling too hot to have this conversation. “Never say that again. I love Jamie but not like that.”
His smile widens in a way that annoys me further. “So it’s the first one, then.” Theo directs his attention to the women. “Can’t blame you, she’s gorgeous. Maybe a little out of your league, though.”
I shake my head and stalk past him into his house. “We are not talking about this. I’m not interested in her. She hates me.”
His breathy scoff follows me. “That would be a first. Aren’t women usually throwing themselves at you?”
“That’s an exaggeration.” Pulling open the fridge behind the area Theo claims is his “sports bar,” I pull out a bottle of sparkling water.
One of the nice things about hanging out at Theo’s place is that the fridge is always stocked.
He may be a bachelor, but you’d never know it with how clean and well-kept his estate is.
Of course, when you’re a millionaire, you’ve got an entire staff to do all that for you.
“It may be a slight exaggeration,” he reluctantly admits. “But it’s hard to forget about…” He trails off at the glare I send him. “Well, that doesn’t need to be brought up, does it? Anyway, all I mean is that usually it’s not hard for you to get a date with a girl you’re into.”
I feel the weight of his gaze like a damp blanket, though I do my best to ignore it and focus on peeling the label off my water, taking great care not to let any of the sticky residue stay behind.
“So… it begs the question,” he continues in that droll tone he’s perfected over the course of our friendship. “Why does she hate you?”
I sigh, glancing out the back glass doors to make sure Jamie and Daria aren’t headed this way. When it’s clear they’re still working, I turn back to Theo. “I met her at a party over a year ago. And we hit it off…or at least, I thought we did.”
Memories of that night rush through my mind like they have more often than I’d like to admit since Daria crept back into my purview.
The way her dark eyes flashed as she looked me up and down, skeptical yet intrigued.
The easy way our conversation flowed, a hint at how physically and romantically compatible we might be together.
So many things stick out to me, things I wish she’d remember too.
“I knew I wanted to get to know her better from the moment we met,” I say, fully aware of the regret in my voice. I can’t bring myself to brush off the hurt that lingers from her obvious disdain for me.
Theo’s quiet, obviously realizing there’s more to the story than the tiny piece I’ve given him.
“I gave her my number to contact me—”
“Wait,” Theo interrupts. “You gave her your number?”
I sigh. “Yeah. It was the first time since…” I trail off, still not ready to talk about what happened with Laura.
Theo winces, likely remembering. “She must’ve been something for you to go out on a limb like that again.”
“She was. Or so I thought.” I let my eyes wander back to where Daria’s working outside, oblivious to this conversation. “Anyway, she said she texted me, but I never got it.”
I’ve tried to think back to that time, tried to figure out how it’s possible that she sent me a message I never received, but I can’t figure it out. Seems impossible, really.
If she had sent me anything, I would’ve responded. Probably like a simpering idiot because of how instantly enamored with her I was. It undoubtedly would’ve been embarrassing. Yet I didn’t even get the chance to play the part of a love-struck fool.
And now, I never will. At least, not with her.
Theo hums, grabbing his own bottle of water. “So she feels burned by you. Hard for a woman to recover after that kind of rejection.”
“I didn’t reject her.” My voice has a hard edge that isn’t called for. Yet defensiveness rises inside me like a swelling wave anyway, threatening to drown anyone who stands too close.
“But she thinks you did,” he says nonchalantly, clearly unaffected by my irritation. “Did you explain what happened?”
I take another swig of my drink, then set it down onto the bar top, running my forefinger and thumb down the condensation. “I tried. She doesn’t want to hear any of it.” Again, my eyes skirt to the woman I have to forcefully shove from my brain just about every night.
Being around her lately brings all those old feelings to the surface…
especially my own rejection after I thought she never wanted further contact with me, the distinct pang of loss once I knew how badly she hated me after Parker’s wedding shower, and even the small seed of hope that rattles around in my chest, wishing—waiting—for her to give me another chance to prove her wrong.
It’s all there, buzzing under my skin whenever we’re close.
I can’t continue on this way, but thankfully, I won’t have to. Once Parker and Jamie are married, I won’t need to have any further contact with Daria. Yet even that thought brings a sting of hurt with it.
“The beautiful ones are always extra stubborn,” Theo says with a trace of his own contempt.
“Yeah.” Confirming his observation seems the natural thing to do, though I suspect Daria’s stubbornness comes from somewhere deep. The meticulous, type-A person inside me wants to dissect her heart and figure out what brought her that pain. But my own pride won’t let me get that close.
I’ve been hurt too, but you don’t see me closing myself off to a perfectly good relationship.
As bad as I’ve been burned, I’m still looking for someone to love, still fighting for the kind of future where I share a happy home with the person meant for me.
Where we enjoy a fulfilling life and marriage like the one my parents had, one that results in children.
So I guess I’ll take my pride and lean into that, forgetting all the things Daria makes me feel. She’s not the one for me, and I need to accept it and move on.
“You know what you should do,” Theo pipes up after a long silence. “Tell her about your real estate investments. Women love a successful man.”
I just shake my head. “Not happening, man.”
“All right.” Theo sighs. “Hungry?”
“Wings?”
His mouth tips up at the corners before he turns and heads for the all-you-can eat buffet his chef set up for us in the dining room. “Wings and nachos.”