20. Chapter 20
Daria
Maybe it was waking up in Dane’s clothes this morning, or just my pure unadulterated gratefulness for how he cared for me last night, but for the first time in a long time, I am feeling genuine regret.
Never have I been so embarrassed, so mortified, at how I’ve acted.
And not just when I was in a pukey, stomach-bug induced haze.
The way Dane treated me last night gave me a glimpse into the kind of man he is.
He was sweet, sacrificial, helpful…all while knowing he wouldn’t get the same treatment in return.
I’m not sure what to do with that truth. I mean, I know what I should do. But it’s difficult to swallow my pride and toss the fabricated version of Dane—the one I misguidedly created from one interaction—into the trash bin in my mind.
Because if I do, if I admit that he’s good and kind and waving green flags galore, I’d be out of reasons to keep him at arm’s length. I’d have to admit that somewhere along the way, I let the pain from my past cloud my judgment.
I still don’t know what happened with the text I sent Dane.
But technology’s not infallible. Maybe it just never sent.
Maybe he was in a plane halfway across the country and didn’t receive it.
A number of things could’ve happened. At this point, it’s laughable that I keep shoving him away for something he likely had no control over.
Especially after last night.
For the first time since moving in with him, I’m almost sad to see him leave for his shift. Last night helped me see that even if we’re past whatever could’ve come from a romance between us, we could at least be friends.
And friendship would be okay—safe enough—right?
“Ready when you are,” Dane says, nearly startling me right off the couch. Have I really been sitting here so lost in thought about him that I didn’t even hear him enter the room?
“I’m ready.” I stand and grab my purse off the counter. “So, where to?”
Dane opens the door for me, a very gentleman-like thing to do, and checks his watch. “I don’t have a ton of time, so how about stopping at that food truck that sometimes sits outside the gym?”
“Tacos? Mm. That sounds really good, actually.” I head down the steps ahead of Dane.
“You sure you can stomach something like that?”
His concern warms me, even though it’s not necessary.
“I’m positive. It’s like a night and day difference from last night to this morning.
I’m not sure what happened, but—” I stop myself, quite sure the guy who cleaned all the puke off of me doesn’t want to relive it.
“Anyway. I’m better, and can we please never speak of it again? "
Dane chuckles. “Can’t promise that. I might need a good bargaining chip later.”
I push open the outside door and shoot a glare over my shoulder. “Just when I was starting to think you were one of the good ones.” I’m teasing, of course, but his expression sobers in a way that makes me regret my choice of words.
He saunters past me and opens my car’s passenger side door, casually resting his forearm across it. When I approach, his smirk grows. “In that case, I’d better lose the bargaining chips and start looking for more ways I can be of service to you.”
I huff a little laugh and shake my head. “Be of service? You mean like, be my butler?” I tilt my head to the side. “I might be able to get on board with something like that.”
He leans forward, getting all up in my space. “You sure? The price is...” His blue eyes drop to my lips, and I can’t help but lick them on instinct. “Pretty steep.”
I swallow. “Figures you’d want something in return.” I try for flippant, but my voice sounds as breathy as can be. When his smirk continues to grow, I ask, “How much are we talking?”
Dane’s eyes sparkle in the morning sun. “Oh, we’re talking really nice, really encouraging words. Compliments, even.” I purse my lips to keep from sputtering something as embarrassing as a giggle. “Withholding mean, snarky comments. Saying things like please and thank you .”
I force out an overly dramatic sigh, then slip into the passenger seat. “Stroking your ego, then? Got it.”
He shakes his head and steps back. “You would think that exhibiting a little gratefulness is stroking someone’s ego.
” He shuts the door, and my smile falls.
He may have been kidding, but he’s right.
I've been so stingy with kind words, even worse with kind actions, when it comes to him, blaming it all on one incident from over a year ago.
I’ve been acting like a spoiled brat.
Dane slips into the driver’s seat and extends his open palm toward me.
I meet his eyes, noting the faint smile at the corner of his lips, just before he wiggles his fingers.
Slowly, tentatively, I lay my palm against his.
The instant warmth that rushes through me at his touch makes me light-headed.
Or maybe that’s some residual sickness from last night.
Dane hums, a deep rumbly sound that ricochets through his chest. “While I am immensely enjoying getting to hold hands with you, D, I was only asking for you to hand me your car keys.”
I press my lips together as heat rushes into my cheeks. I jerk my hand away, dig in my purse for my keys, and hand them over. To my relief, he doesn’t laugh at my misstep. But I still spy the flash of teeth produced by his wide smile.
“I really thought you’d fight me on driving your car, but you didn’t even question it,” he says, pulling away from the curb.
My body instantly stiffens. Why didn’t I question it? He held the door open for me, and I just got in like we do this every day. Like we’re some kind of couple .
I clear my throat and turn toward the window. “Well. Figured it wasn’t worth arguing with your control freak self.”
Again, he merely smiles at my antics. His controlled reactions, the light teasing and absorbing my quickly thrown jabs, does something to me. Something I can’t quite identify because it’s never happened before. All I know is that I feel...soft.
And I’m not sure if I like it.
“So,” he says, breaking the silence. “What do you like on your tacos?”
“Guac. Cheese. Hot sauce.” I hold up a hand to clarify. “But not the chipotle or jalapeno flavored kind. I’m talking like buffalo-style hot sauce.”
His raised eyebrow expression is full of humor. “Interesting. Figures you’d like something totally off the menu at a regular taco joint.”
“Are you implying that I’m high maintenance? Or…” I fake a gasp. “Hard to please?” I roll my lips inward to keep from laughing.
“Forgive me,” he says in mock apology and presses a hand to his chest. “I didn’t mean to imply that you’re hard to please. Or high maintenance. Everyone knows that you, my dear roommate, are as soft and easy as a summer breeze.”
I do snort a laugh at that. Then he does too, and we’re both giggling and breathless by the time we pull up next to the curb behind the taco truck.
“I don’t think I’ve laughed that hard in months,” I say, wiping the tears from my eyes as Dane opens his car door. He stops and looks back at me.
“Me neither. Feels good.” With a wink, he exits the vehicle. Flutters I wish I wasn’t experiencing overtake my midsection. I clear my throat and press a hand to my stomach to ward them off. Before Dane even attempts to open my door for me, I charge out of the car and up to the truck.
He doesn’t say anything when he steps in line next to me, choosing instead to eye the menu ahead of us. “I like beef, cheese, tomatoes and lettuce, by the way.”
I turn and face him. “Huh?”
“On my taco,” he explains. “You didn’t ask me what I liked, but thought I’d tell you anyway. You know, just in case you wanted to know.”
I don’t respond because, for once, I don’t know what to say.
A smidgeon of shame forms in my stomach, slowly eating at me.
I peek at Dane as the small line of people moves forward.
There’s no censure in his expression, no irritation.
More like...contentment. Maybe a hint of curiosity.
Like he’s wondering if I’ll take the bait he carefully laid at my feet and attempt to forge some semblance of a friendship.
I should ask about what he likes. Should stop assuming all the things simply because we live together. Even with sharing an apartment, things can get lost in translation. And I’m tired of thinking the worst. If we are going to try and be friends, it’s time for me to take a step in that direction.
“What else do you like to eat?” Dane’s head swivels toward me at my question. His clear eyes hold mine. “You know, when you’re on the go,” I add.
His focused attention forces me to shift on my feet. A hint of a smile tilts his mouth upward. “I like burgers too. But I usually only eat half the bun. Can’t have too many carbs.”
My smirk forms naturally. “Of course not, Mr. Bodybuilder.”
“Hey, what did I tell you about—”
“Charles?”
Both of us turn toward the beautiful female bouncing toward Dane. Her bubbly personality oozes with sparkly confidence.
“Hey, Stacey. You just leave the gym?”
“Yeah,” the girl says, tucking a strand of her long and probably silky hair behind her ear. “Worked the midnight shift, then hit the treadmill after. Now I'm practically starving .” When her eyes scan the entire length of Dane’s body, I’m no longer convinced she’s talking about food.
“I bet,” Dane says. “We were just grabbing a bite to eat before I head out for work.” He gestures between the two of us, and I appreciate that he at least acknowledges my presence, even though this woman can’t take her eyes off him.
“Aw, really?” Miss Beautiful Bodybuilder pouts. I doubt that’s her name, but it seriously could be. “How long will you be gone this time?”
“For five days.”
“Aw, well. We’ll miss you at the gym, as always,” she says with a breathy sigh. “Mind if I join you for lunch?”
I stiffen. Every cell in my body tells me to bow out, walk away, get in my car, and drive off to let Sweet and Sparkly take him to the airport. But then Dane takes a noticeable step closer to me and says, “Actually, I was hoping to have a few minutes alone with Daria before I head out.”
I blink. And blink again.
“Oh.” As if the woman just realized I’ve been standing here the whole time, she takes my measure. “I didn’t realize this was a date.”
I immediately hold up a hand. “It’s not—”
“It’s fine,” Dane interjects. “No harm done.”
“Next!” the guy from the truck calls.
Dane tosses a thumb behind him, backing away from the beautiful woman. “I’ll see you when I get back to the gym, okay?”
She nods dumbly, almost tripping over the curb as she sidesteps back toward the sidewalk. “Right. See you then.”
Once she’s out of earshot, I face Dane. He’s giving the guy his order, pretending like he didn’t just insinuate we’re on a date. “And she’ll have...” He looks my way, eyebrows raised.
I send him a look that promises we will be addressing his slip up, then place my order. We move off the side and wait for our food, giving me the perfect opportunity to lay into him. Except just as I’m about to, he goes off script.
“Don’t hate me, okay?”
Again with the blinking.
“It’s just...” His gaze lingers in the direction the woman left in. “She’s constantly asking me out, but she’s not my type.”
My jaw nearly hits the asphalt. “Not your type? What, you’re telling me you don’t like beautiful, busty bodybuilders with bouncy personalities?”
His bright smile rivals the sun at his back. “That was a lot of alliteration for you just now.”
“Excuse me, sir, I can alliterate. Want another one? How about Dane is a bad, only-one-bun-burger boy for pretending to be dating me just now.”
His sputtering laugh spurs my own to break free. “That was good,” he says with a nod. “How do you come up with such good comebacks on the fly?”
I tamp down my amusement. “It’s my childhood trauma rising to the surface.”
At that, his smile fades. “Look, I’m sorry for using you back there. And when I say she’s not my type, it’s more than just her looks. She’s flirty with a lot of guys, and I’m not really into that.”
Why his simple explanation gives me hope, I can’t say. But I choose to ignore it.
“So what are you into? Besides bunless burgers and bland tacos?”
For a moment, he doesn’t say anything, only watches me with a thoughtful expression. “I think I’m into complicated women with complex issues.”
I once again dutifully ignore the way my insides heat and swirl and do all manner of uncomfortable things. “You’re just saying that to try and alliterate as much as possible.”
He shakes his head, laughter spilling from him again. “If that was the case, I might’ve said cute and coy women with carefree attitudes.”
“Now you’re just showing off.”
His smile widens before he takes another step closer.
So close that his body heat seems to wrap around me, nestling me in a cocoon that smells and feels like Dane.
“Not showing off. Not yet, anyway.” Lowering his voice, he adds, “You see, complicated women with complex issues don’t generally go for the showy, ultra confident guys.
They seem to admire silent strength more than anything. ”
I give him a slow, calculated nod, pretending I’m completely unaffected by...whatever it is he’s doing. “I see. For a guy who claims he hasn’t dated in a while, you seem to know a lot about what women want.”
He shrugs and looks away. “I really don’t, but there is one woman I’ve been trying to figure out for quite some time now. Can’t help but feel like I’m getting closer all the time.”
“Does she happen to also be stellar at off-the-cuff alliteration?” The question pops out before I can stop it. My heart pumps faster as I wait for his response.
Still not meeting my eyes, he slips his hands in his pockets and smiles. “Among other things.”
“Order up!” The food truck worker’s call breaks into whatever weird thing might’ve happened between Dane and me. When he turns away to grab our food, I take the opportunity to blow out a breath and compose myself.
Today is not going at all like I’d expected.
And I’m not quite sure what to think about it.