Chapter 21
DANI
Grrrrr. What is up with Tyrell tonight?
He’s gotten so quiet, and it’s infuriating me, but I can’t let any of that show, which is why I’m staying so focused on Rhys.
It’s not hard.
He’s smooth and charming, but also seems genuine. I love his hair. I love the way his face lights with a smile so easily. He’s a great guy, and the way he talks about his dog makes my heart melt.
I want to hear him play guitar.
I will definitely be seeing if I can bump his name up the list at Offside. We have got to get this man onstage.
And I’m sure Tyrell would agree with me on that.
Why is he still looking so sour? This date has gone so well!
Although, he’s barely been a part of it. Are the others picking up his angsty vibes too? I wonder if they’re assuming he’s just a quiet, reserved guy. Happy to watch from the sidelines.
I mean, he is that.
Black Jack.
The Silent Knight.
My lips quirk as I think about that label. That journalist was spot-on. Ty is a silent knight.
But it’s annoying the hell out of me that he’s being a silent grumpy knight right now.
Eyeing him across the table, I bulge my eyes at him, but he looks away before we can have any kind of silent conversation like we’ve had on other dates.
Balling my hands into little fists under the table, I resist the urge to kick him and focus back on Vicky, who’s telling us a story about this cathedral she went to in Germany.
“It’s absolutely massive, and the architecture is just stunning. If you think about when it was constructed, it’s mind-blowing.” This look of awe lifts her face into a smile. “The engineering is so impressive.”
Vicky turns to Tyrell, who I know will be interested in this kind of thing. It’s a historic building in Europe, so of course he’ll be into it.
“Yeah.” He kind of sighs. “Sounds impressive.”
Seriously? Could he look more disinterested right now?
What the hell is his problem?
“I bet the acoustics in there are next-level.” Rhys sits forward with a grin, and I turn my attention to him because he’s gorgeous and nice and not being a grumpy turd right now.
“Oh yeah. I spent two hours in there just walking around, then sitting in a pew, soaking it all in.”
“I’d love to play my guitar in a place like that. Do a show in an old church with a high ceiling. That would be so cool.” Rhys grins.
“So, you like to travel?” I ask, resting my fingers on his arm again. I can’t help it. He’s got great arms, and he doesn’t seem to mind me touching him.
He smiles at me. “I’ve only been to Hawaii so far, but that was fun. I’d definitely love to get to Europe at some point.”
“You should.” Vicky nods, smiling at the waiter as he approaches with our desserts.
Yes! Chocolate mousse!
“Here you go.” He sets down our desserts, and I smile at my chocolate decadence before casting a quick glance across the table.
Tyrell is frowning down at his slice of cheesecake like he might be sick.
Oh shit, is he not feeling well?
Is that why he’s being so quiet and unenthusiastic?
Sudden guilt hits me. Shit, I’ve been stewing over his grumpy ass while he’s possibly sitting there trying not to throw up.
I nudge his leg under the table, and he glances at me.
“You okay?” I mouth while Vicky tells Rhys all about the other places she visited on her whirlwind trip through Europe last summer.
Tyrell nods, frowning like he’s confused by my query.
“Sore tummy?” I touch my hand to my stomach.
His eyebrows dip even closer together as he shakes his head.
“What’s wrong?” I mouth.
He shakes his head again, grabbing his dessert fork and shoveling a large mouthful of cheesecake into his piehole.
Okay, fine. So he’s not feeling sick, then.
Now I’m back to being annoyed with his cranky ass.
My chocolate mousse doesn’t taste as sweet as I’m expecting it to, but I don’t think it’s the chef’s fault. I think it’s the sour notes Tyrell is flinging across the table. I’m almost relieved when dinner is over.
“Can I drive you home?” Rhys asks as we rise from the table.
Tyrell’s head whips to look at the man helping me into my jacket.
“Uh…”
“With no expectations of coming in or anything.” Rhys smiles when I turn to face him, and I can see that he means it.
Wow. A real gentleman. This guy really is perfect.
I glance at Tyrell, whose nostrils are flaring, his mouth set in a straight line, and… you know what?
“Yes.” I look away from my friend and smile at Rhys. “That’d be lovely. Thank you.”
Tyrell makes a soft growl in his throat, which makes us all turn to him with varying looks of surprise.
He tries to disguise it by clearing his throat, but we all heard that growl, and I have to gape at him, because seriously, what the fuck is his problem?
Clenching his jaw for what must be the three hundredth time tonight, he turns to Vicky with a scowl. “You need a ride?”
“No.” She pulls her jacket a little tighter around herself.
“I’m gonna head out back and hang with my aunt and uncle for a while.
” With a polite nod, she steps away from him, then gives me a hug and thanks Rhys for a wonderful evening.
Tyrell gets nothing else from her, and he doesn’t freaking deserve it.
I can’t hide my angst when I give him a final glare. “I’ll see you later.”
“Yep.” He pops the P, his jaw working to the side as he stays put by the table, watching Rhys lead me out of the restaurant.
I can’t believe him!
This is the first good connection I’ve had throughout all these dates, and he has to go and ruin it.
“You okay?” Rhys asks as he walks beside me to his car.
“Oh, yeah.” I force a smile, praying he won’t ask me about Tyrell. Did he notice how grumpy the guy was?
Grrr!
Just stop thinking about him. Focus on Rhys.
“So, when are you performing again? Got any gigs coming up?” I force out.
Thankfully, he responds with an easy smile, and conversation is soon focused on street performances and collecting dimes in his guitar case.
He keeps me thoroughly entertained as he drives me back to my apartment.
When he pulls up to the curb, my insides flail for just a second. What’s the expectation here?
This is the first date that’s gone well. The first time I’ve gotten a ride home from the actual guy instead of Tyrell.
Wait, is that why Tyrell growled? Was he annoyed that someone else was driving me home? But why? Shouldn’t he be happy about that?
Maybe he was annoyed because things were going great for me and Rhys but not him and Vicky.
Shit. I need to talk to him. Make sure he’s okay.
“Uh… Dani?”
“Sorry, what?” I blink, only just registering that Rhys has been talking to me this whole time.
He lets out a soft laugh. “I just asked if you wanted to get together again sometime.”
“Oh, um…” I nod. “Yeah, sure.”
He smiles. “I had a really fun time with you tonight.”
I nod. “Me too.”
“Great.” I drink in his gorgeous smile. “Well, I’ll… see you around, then?”
“Sure.”
“Did you want to exchange numbers or…?”
“Oh, yeah.” I dig out my phone, my breath evaporating when I spot a text I didn’t hear come through.
Black Jack: I’m sorry for being a dick. Hope you’re having a good time with Rhys. If you’re up for a date debrief, give me a call.
“Dani?” Rhys asks again. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, I just… um…” I lift my phone with an awkward laugh. “My friend texted me, and I…” I let out a soft breath, unsure why I can’t finish that sentence.
“You know what?” Rhys grips the wheel and looks out the windshield. “Why don’t you deal with that tonight, and I’ll grab your number another time. I can sense you’re distracted. I’ll just give Tyrell a text, and he can send me your number. Is that cool?”
“Yeah.” I nod, confused by this weird feeling in my chest. I don’t even know what it is, but all I can think about is talking to Tyrell.
I want to see him.
Find out what his problem is.
“Hey, thanks again for a great evening. I really enjoyed it.” Rhys smiles at me, and I force myself to slip the phone back into my purse and look at him.
He really is beautiful.
Surprising myself, I reach out and cup his cheek, softly whispering, “Thank you.”
He gazes at me, silently asking permission to kiss me good night. He doesn’t have to say anything, and although my heart has launched itself into my throat, I lean forward anyway.
This is all part of moving on with my life, right?
Kissing another guy.
Letting Atlas go and…
This is the first guy you will have kissed since him. Do you even remember how to?
Ignoring the panicked taunts in my head, I lean a little closer… and a little closer… until Rhys’s lips are pressed against mine.
Closing my eyes, I sink into it, really trying to feel that thing. That spark. You know? The one that came so easily for Atlas and me. The one that curls your toes and sends a current jolting through your body. The one that makes your insides want to dance and rave and…
Nothing.
Wait, maybe I just need to deepen it.
Threading my fingers around Rhys’s neck, I brush my tongue across his lips and he responds, opening his mouth to me. Our tongues glide together for just a moment, but…
Nope. Nothing.
We try for just another second, but I’m starting to get the sense that maybe there’s no spark for him either.
Seriously?
But he’s so perfect!
My insides are wailing as I ease away from him and we share an awkward smile.
Clearing his throat, he nods and murmurs, “Thanks again for a great date.”
“Yeah, you… you too.” My laughter is wispy and insincere, so I push the door open and make a quick escape.
The wind catches my dress as I walk around the back of his car, and I quickly snatch it down, holding it against my thigh as Rhys sticks his hand out the window and waves goodbye.
I frown after his car, disappointment searing me as I watch him drive away.
No spark.
Shit. I’m never gonna find myself a man.
With a soft huff, I shake my head and wrench my phone out of my purse.
Reading Tyrell’s text again, I send back a quick reply.
I’m ready for a debrief now. But I don’t want to do it over the phone. Meet me at that park a block from my place. You know the one with the red bench seat?
Why I want to see him, I’m not even sure, but as I wrap my arms around myself and stomp toward the playground, I start running through scenarios.
Maybe I want to be able to slap him for being a douche.
Or maybe I want to cry on his shoulder because I thought Rhys was so great, yet when I kissed him…
My shoulders slump and I pause on the sidewalk to take off Nix’s shoes. They’ve been torturing my feet ever since I slipped them back on.
Padding along in my bare feet, I try not to think about how dirty the concrete is and instead focus on why I feel so compelled to see Tyrell “Grumpy Ass” Jackson.
Maybe I just want to sit on a bench beside him and shoot the breeze like we’ve done after other dates.
Or maybe I just want the comfort of being with someone who’s known me since I was fourteen. Someone who knows Atlas.
Shit. I have no idea which reason is making me plunk my butt down on this cold red bench.
The emotions inside me are a torrent—a hurricane—of angst, and I don’t know whether to feel relief, agitation, or this weird pulse of something I don’t want to identify when Tyrell jumps out of his SUV and starts striding toward me.