CHAPTER 20 #3
“Maybe I misread it.” Dalton shrugged a shoulder, gaze focused on the road. “Confirmation bias and all that. Except if he still won’t kiss you after all this time, then I was obviously wrong.”
Dalton had to have heard the other part, though. I think I’d kiss you just fine. That was proof in and of itself, wasn’t it? Proof Jamie had thought about it, the same way I had. “Jamie really likes me,” I told him. “He loves me.”
“I told you before, DD. It’s easy to confuse love and friendship.
I said Jamie would rather die than disappoint you.
He’d never say no to you. If you asked him to be your fake boyfriend to make your ex jealous, of course he’d say yes.
Because he’d do anything for you—but that doesn’t mean he loves you. ”
I didn’t ask him, I wanted to say, because it was true—Jamie had been the one who’d volunteered the fake relationship. Jamie had been the one to step in first.
Because I’d gone to him, seeking comfort like I’d always done, and asked him to fix my mess. And he did. Without question.
Inexplicably, Jamie’s voice filled my head.
You have me wrapped around your finger.
The things I do for you, Daisy Carmichael.
Both spoken like a soft sigh of resignation.
And then Raelynn. There was never a choice. You didn’t give him a choice. But you never do, do you?
Pressure began building in my head, like I was beginning to wake up from a dream.
Jamie, who’d offered to stop fake dating several times.
Jamie, who always stiffened whenever I got too close to him.
Jamie, who flinched away when I tried to kiss him.
Jamie, who would absolutely sacrifice himself before disappointing someone he cared about.
It’s easy to confuse love and friendship.
What if Jamie didn’t like me? What if I mistook his friendship for love?
Dalton pulled into my driveway, and though he missed the pothole, I still jolted anyway. I hadn’t realized we’d even gotten into town, let alone made it to Hawthorne Street. Back home, but feeling worse than when I’d left.
Dalton unclicked his seatbelt to turn to face me fully, slipping off his sunglasses once again.
“Daisy,” he began, even going as far as to pick up my hand where it was limp in my lap.
His fingers were warm, almost clammy from where he’d been gripping the steering wheel.
“You don’t need to use him to make me want you. I do. I still do.”
And then Dalton reached out, the same way he had the night of Lydia’s party, easing my hair behind my ear.
I watched his eyes sparkle while he did it, the same way they’d sparkled then.
I’d been wholly affected by him then, as if there’d been some kind of spell that drew me in.
I’d let his promises, the same ones he’d made me last summer, reel me in.
And even tonight, him saying he’d transfer from ASU to FCCC—another promise that was pretty on the surface but hollow underneath.
I could see Dalton clearly now. Sitting across from him now, watching his lids lower to half-mast, his lips puckering ever so slightly as he leaned, I felt absolutely nothing.
In fact, looking at his puckered mouth actually gave me the ick.
“You don’t,” I said before he could lean in any further.
Dalton’s half-closed eyes flew open. “I don’t… what?”
“Want me. You only want me now because someone else wants to be with me. Because I want to be with someone else.” I stared my ex-boyfriend straight on. “You didn’t miss me.”
“I-I did, too—”
“Not enough to come back to me.” Not enough to come home when the semester changed, or over winter break, or spring break.
Not enough to reach out to Colin or Tyler or any of the guys in my grade and have them beg me to unblock him.
Not enough to climb the tree in my backyard and throw pebbles at my window.
Or maybe he did miss something—but not me. He’d gone from king of the halls at Cardale to a college with over a hundred thousand people where no one would’ve looked at him twice. Had he missed me, or just the way I’d made him feel?
Looking into his blue eyes, I had the same thought. Had I missed him, or had I just missed the way he made me feel? Fun. Carefree. Normal.
My pulse was steady, my mind was clear, and my voice was steady. “I know you, Dalton Giovanni, but I don’t think you’ve ever really known me.”
Dalton leaned back in his seat ever so slightly, his hand still on mine, lips now parted and lax. He looked—confused, as if the picture he’d been so sure of fell apart to pulp in his hands. “DD.”
Dalton didn’t keep a piece of paper in his pocket, ready for me in case I wasn’t. He didn’t collect little scraps of my drawings and hold on to them—he didn’t even like my drawings. He didn’t like my siblings, he didn’t like my friends, he didn’t like my dreams. He liked that I liked him.
Yeah. It definitely was like waking up from a dream.
But before I had a chance to pull my hand out of Dalton’s clammy grip, my car door opened at my side, a sudden sound that had me gasping and whirling around—
And I found Jamie standing in the open passenger doorway.