Chapter 12
CHAPTER TWELVE
Dallas
JoeyB @JoeVSVolcano
I kind of know what Vivian Ward felt like when Edward came down the street shouting from the moon roof.
5 ?2 ?13
DFW @BodaciousBuckaroo211
Like a prostitute who doesn’t have to turn tricks anymore?
4 ?0 ?9
JoeyB @JoeVSVolcano
I don’t know what’s worse: the fact that you immediately knew exactly what I was talking about or the fact that you missed the entire point like a bullheaded moron. Of course, that last bit isn’t surprising in the least.
3 ?1 ?19
DFW @BodaciousBuckaroo211
I didn’t miss the point. Arguing with you is just more fun than being right.
2 ?0 ?22
JoeyB @JoeVSVolcano
Why haven’t I blocked you yet?
1 ?3 ?12
DFW @BodaciousBuckaroo211
I don’t know. You tell me.
0 ?0 ?5
I’ve spent almost every night after work hanging out with Josette, and it’s been fantastic. We cuddle and watch television until we inevitably start kissing, and even though we’ve not gone any further yet, I’m not feeling impatient or deprived of anything. I just like being with her.
On Thursday, she ambushed me in the hallway, pulling me into her apartment before I could shower and change after work. She pressed her face into my chest as we hugged and inhaled deeply, murmuring something about loving the way I smelled. She only let me kiss her for about five seconds before she pushed me back out into the hall and told me to go get clean and comfortable before coming back over. I couldn’t stop smiling as I followed her instructions. Josette Barnes being demanding is apparently my kryptonite. It was so fucking hot.
Last night, she went to her sister’s house for their Friday night girls’ night, so I didn’t see her, but she texted me a few times and even sent of video of the four of them drunkenly dancing in Callie’s living room. But nothing compares to the drunk-text I got at midnight. I smile as I open our thread to reread it and the other texts that came in this morning.
Josette: (12:02am) I like you so much. I’m really in like with you, Dallas. Do you like me?
Josette: (8:37am) OMG please delete that last message and forget I ever sent it.
Josette: Raven stole my phone and sent that.
Josette: Okay, that’s a lie. I sent it. But I plead whatever constitutional amendment that applies to striking drunk texting from the jury’s minds. The jury being you. Your mind. Please.
Me: Consider it stricken from the record.
Me: But also, I’m “in like” with you, too, if that makes a difference.
She didn’t reply to that last text, and when we texted each other later to confirm our plans for tonight, neither of us mentioned it. And that’s fine. If she wants to pretend it never happened, I can play along.
I’m just happy because tonight, Josette is letting me take her out on a real date. Knowing how anxious she gets when going out in public and being surrounded by strangers, it’s kind of a big deal. The first time we went out, to the taco shop, was kind of a friend-thing. A helping-a-neighbor-who’s-new-to-town thing. At least, to Josette, it was. I’m sure she felt less pressure that night than she does right now, getting ready for what I’ve made clear is an actual dinner date between two people who are “in like” with each other.
I chuckle at the thought as I finish getting ready. I got a haircut and a professional shave earlier this afternoon, and I’m wearing a nice charcoal gray button-down shirt with a pair of black chinos. I cuffed the sleeves of my shirt to my elbows earlier, and after sliding on some black dress shoes, I think I’m good to go.
Grabbing the single pink daisy I bought for Josette earlier, I pat my pockets to make sure I have my keys, phone, and wallet. With everything in order, I step out into the hall and lock my door behind me. Taking the few steps across the hall to her door, I rap my knuckles against the wood.
The door swings open a few moments later, and my breath whooshes out of me like someone punched me in the stomach. Josette looks amazing with her hair twisted up into a fancy updo that leaves soft tendrils framing her heart-shaped face. She’s wearing a pair of slim-fitting white jeans that crop at the ankles paired with strappy high heels and a black camisole-type tank top half-tucked in at the front.
“You look beautiful,” I breathe, holding the daisy out to her.
Her smile lights up her face as she takes it and lifts it to her nose. “Thank you. You look beautiful, too.”
She waves me inside, and I follow, closing the door behind me and meeting her in the kitchen where she’s poking the stem of the flower into a skinny vase. I watch as she fills the vase with water, my gaze travelling up and down the length of her several times before she catches me.
Her cheeks turn the prettiest shade of pink as she asks, “Are you ready to go?”
I’m ready to kiss her, right now, but it looks like she spent time perfecting her makeup, and I don’t want to mess it up. Not yet , anyway.
“I’m ready,” I say, placing a light palm at the small of her back as we head for the door.
“So, where are we going?” she asks as we cross the parking lot toward my car.
“It’s a surprise,” I say, pulling the passenger’s side door open for her.
She nods and slides into the seat, but there’s a tightness in her eyes that tells me she’s feeling anxious. Shit. I considered her anxiety when I booked the private space at the restaurant, but I never considered how she’d feel about not knowing where we’re going.
“Don’t worry,” I say, leaning over so I can meet her eyes as she buckles her seatbelt. “I have it on good authority that you’re going to love the place, and I took precautions to make sure you’ll be completely comfortable while we eat. Trust me?”
She nods slightly. “I do trust you.”
“Good,” I say, giving her a grin before closing the door and jogging around to climb in behind the wheel.
I look over to see her watching me thoughtfully, so I tilt my head and ask, “What?”
“On good authority?” she asks, and one corner of my mouth turns up.
“I may have spoken to Linc, who spoke to Royal, who asked Callie where some of your favorite places to eat are.”
Her eyes widen. “Really?”
“Yeah,” I say, my smile dropping. “Why do you look so surprised?”
“I’m not,” she assures me, then shakes her head. “I’ve just never had someone put in so much work to… You know what? Never mind.”
I reach over to squeeze her hand. “This is the bare minimum, Josette. If someone can’t be bothered to put in the tiniest bit of work to please you and make you comfortable and happy, then they don’t deserve you.”
She gives me a tiny smile, and I squeeze her hand again before releasing it to start the car. I buckle my seatbelt and put my hand on the gearshift, then pause to look at her again.
“If it will make you more comfortable and less anxious, I’ll happily tell you where we’re going. ”
She meets my eyes for several beats before gently shaking her head. “No. I trust you, Dallas.”
My lips part into a wide grin. “Good. Ready?”
“Ready.”
We listen to soft music on the radio as we drive, and when I hop on the freeway, heading south, I can feel her gaze on me. Turning my head, I see her staring at me with wide eyes.
“Are we going to San Diego?”
I just smile and shrug, and I see the corner of her mouth tilt up as she faces forward again. We chat a little during the drive, talking of inconsequential things as Josette visibly becomes more and more excited. When I pull into the lot of the hotel, she squirms in her seat before looking over at me with wide eyes.
“We’re going to Hover ?” she asks.
I nod, and her face is so bright, it’s nearly blinding. I’m going to have to buy Callie something nice for recommending this place.
“My mom and dad used to bring Callie and me here when we were younger,” she says. “You can see most of the city from the roof, and you can see the bay and the Coronado bridge.”
“It sounds amazing,” I say as I pull into a spot and shut off the engine. “I’m glad I get to experience it for the first time with you.”
She smiles at me like I’ve said the most perfect thing imaginable, and my chest swells. God, I like this girl so much. I’d take her anywhere to get one of those smiles.
I hop out and run around to help her from the car, and she’s practically vibrating as she takes the hand I offer her. I hold onto it as we walk toward the hotel’s entrance. Inside, we head for the elevator that will take us to the rooftop lounge.
As soon as we step off the elevator, I feel Josette stiffen beside me. It’s Saturday night, and the place is packed. Reaching over, I switch the hand that’s holding hers and circle my arm around her waist, pulling her into my side. I tell the hostess my name and she leads us to a private cabana made with opaque curtains that effectively cut us off from the rest of the people without impeding our view of the bay and the bridge. We can even see the baseball stadium, where there’s a game happening tonight.
I help Josette into her chair, and when I move around to take my seat, she’s staring at me with wide eyes.
“What?” I ask.
“You set this all up…for me?”
“Of course, I did. I want you to have a good time, and you can’t do that if you’re feeling stressed by the crowd.”
She just stares at me for a few beats, then murmurs, “Thank you, Dallas.”
“You’re very welcome,” I say, then pick up the menu the hostess left in front of my seat. “Now, what’s good here?”
“Well,” she says, smirking a little, “the last time I was here, I was thirteen, and I loved the chicken fingers and the mac and cheese.”
“Sounds delicious. Should I order that for both of us?” I ask with a straight face, and tinkling laughter bubbles out of her.
“Maybe we should look at the menu, first,” she says, and we stare at each other for several beats, both of us grinning like fools.
The crowd in the baseball stadium erupts into a loud roar that we can hear from here, and we both look over to see a player in white jogging around the bases while the rest of the team waits at home plate.
“Go Padres,” Josette says, and I look back at her.
“Are you a baseball fan?”
She shrugs. “I’ve been to a few games, but I don’t watch them on television, or anything. What about you? Dodgers or Angels?”
“I’m more of a football fan,” I admit. “Though like you, I’ve been to a few games in Anaheim. I guess you could say I’m an Angels fan.”
“What’s your football team?” she asks.
“There wasn’t a team in L.A. when I was growing up, and I’m afraid I was brainwashed by my parents, so I’m a Cowboys fan, through and through.”
“Ouch. That stings,” she says, scrunching up her nose.
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“I mean…they haven’t gone to the Super Bowl since before you were born, right?” she asks, her face the picture of innocence.
I lean back in my chair. “You follow football?”
She shrugs. “Let’s just say I’ve been to a lot more football games than I have baseball. My dad is a huge Raiders fan, and we took a lot of road trips to Oakland when I was growing up.”
“And now he lives near Vegas,” I say with a nod.
“ Not an accident,” she says with a chuckle.
Our waiter appears inside our cabana, and I order the steak with a baked potato while Josette orders a chicken caesar salad with bread sticks. We both opt for non-alcoholic drinks, and he promises to deliver them as quickly as possible.
We continue our conversation, asking questions to get to know each other better. I can’t remember ever being so relaxed on a first date. Maybe it’s because we’ve been literally making out all week, or maybe it’s just that I feel like I can be my true, authentic self around Josette.
“Your turn,” I say after we both finish our meals and have ordered a piece of chocolate pie to share. “Ask me anything.”
“Okay,” she says, drawing out the word as she thinks of a question. “Have you ever been in love?”
I feel the blood drain from my face, and Josette winces like she notices. She tries to backpedal, taking the question back and offering to ask something else, but I hold up a palm.
“It’s not a fun story, but I’d like to tell you,” I say.
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. I’m sure,” I say, then take a deep breath. “Up until about a year ago, I was in a relationship with someone for three years. We didn’t officially live together, but she stayed at my place more nights than not. We were solid. We liked the same things, got along well, and I started thinking about forever. I went ring shopping and set up a romantic proposal. But when I asked, she didn’t say yes. She ended our relationship.”
“What? Why?” she asks when my words pause.
I shake my head. “She said that she cared about me, but I wasn’t the right man for her. That I didn’t complete her. And the only way she’d find her other half was if she ended things with me and went searching for him.”
“Oh, God,” she murmurs, looking upset on my behalf. Then she tilts her head and asks, “What about you? I mean, did she feel like your other half?”
I pause for a moment to choose my words carefully. “I’m not sure if I really believe in the concept. I think there are many components that go into building a full life that makes a person feel whole. A job you enjoy, if not love. Friends. Family. Hobbies and interests. All of that stuff goes into making you who you are. Finding someone to love who loves you back should only enhance the life you’ve built. If you’re asking if I loved her, I was certain I did at the time. But now? Now, I’m not so sure.”
She’s nodding thoughtfully, but there’s a wrinkle in her forehead that makes me a bit edgy. Did I take that too far? If she doesn’t agree and does believe in all that “other half” stuff, the last thing I want to do is alienate her. I need to change the subject. Immediately.
“What about you? Any serious relationships?”
Her expression smooths into a blank slate as she shakes her head. “No. Not really. I had a boyfriend in high school, but it wasn’t real. I felt like I was supposed to want a boyfriend, so when he asked me out, I said yes. I liked him, I guess. He was kind and respectful. At least, he was at first. We dated for a few weeks before he started pressuring me to take things further, and I ended up agreeing because, again, I thought it was expected. It wasn’t great, and I broke up with him the next day. Other than that, I’ve only gone out on random dates Callie or my friends set up for me.”
She ends that statement with a slight shrug, and an ugly tension blooms in my gut. Her high school boyfriend pressured her into sex? And he didn’t even make it good for her? I’d tear him to shreds if he were here right now. God , I’m so glad I’ve been taking things slow with Josette and insisting that she set a pace she’s comfortable with.
She must see the anger radiating off me, because she reaches over to touch my wrist.
“I’m okay. I only told you that because I wanted you to understand how much I appreciate you and your patience,” she says, pausing to lick her lips, “and how it makes me want you that much more.”
Something that looks like fear lights her eyes, and I realize she’s put herself out there in a way that’s difficult for her. And I still haven’t responded. Fuck .
I straighten and signal to our waiter to bring the check before looking back at Josette and devouring her with my eyes. Her face and neck turn red, but she doesn’t break the eye contact. I lean closer so she can hear my whispered words.
“I want you, too. All of you. But promise me, Josette, if I do anything you’re not ready for or that makes you uncomfortable, you’ll tell me immediately. I won’t be upset or disappointed. I swear.”
She swallows thickly, then nods, murmuring, “I promise.”
I nod back at her, keeping my eyes locked on hers as I hand the waiter my credit card. He takes it and leaves, but still, I hold Josette’s gaze. She’s even more flushed than before and breathing hard, but she doesn’t shy away from my longing stare. She returns it full-force until my cock starts to harden in response.
I toy with the idea of getting a room at this hotel, but quickly discount it. It’s a fifty-minute drive back to our apartment building, but the wait will be worth it. I want Josette to be as comfortable as possible, and being in unfamiliar surroundings would only heighten her unease.
As soon as I sign the receipt, I jump out of my chair and rush around to help her out of hers with exaggerated flourishes. She seems to relax a bit, chuckling at my over-the-top show of chivalry. She laughs even harder when I take her hand and pull her toward the elevator.
When the doors close behind us, and we’re alone, I bend my knees to bring myself closer to her height and nuzzle my nose and lips against the soft skin of her neck. She grips my hair in tight fists, and I wrap my arms around her, holding her tightly against me until we reach the hotel’s lobby.
Releasing her, I take her hand in mine, squeezing it as we walk toward the car. It’s been the best first date I’ve ever had, and hopefully, Josette feels the same.