Chapter 27 #2
I huffed out a breath, forcing a smile like this was nothing. Like my insides weren’t a carefully stacked house of cards. Like I didn’t understand why he was doing this. But I couldn’t do vulnerable—not today.
“Dare.”
Something in his expression eased—not relief, exactly. More like recognition.
“Okay,” he said, glancing around the table. “Easy one.”
He nudged the basket of fries toward me. “I dare you to eat three fries. No distractions. No talking.”
I blinked. “That’s it?”
“I don’t think you’ve eaten today,” he said mildly. “Let’s fix that.”
I scoffed, but my mind came up blank for any rebuttal. “Do you have to notice everything?”
I picked up the first fry. Ate it. The second. The third.
I sat back, crossing my arms. “Better?”
Ty smiled, and it was disarming to see him so happy when I felt like my heart was about to explode. “You did great.”
The softness and sincerity in his words made my chest feel weird, so I jumped in before he could say anything else.
“My turn.” I leaned forward. “Truth or dare?”
His answer came without hesitation. “Truth.”
Of course, he chose truth.
I stared at him for half a second, every real question backing away from the edge of my tongue.
Why does it feel like you see straight through me?
When does all of this become too much, and you’ll decide I’m not worth the trouble?
How do I stay when every part of me wants to run from this pain creeping in?
Nope. Not today.
I waved a fry at him instead. “Why won’t you try mayo on your cheeseburger?”
He blinked, then barked out a laugh. “That’s your truth?”
“Absolutely,” I said. “I need to understand the psychology.”
He shook his head, smiling, but there was affection in it now. “Because it’s unnecessary. The burger is already perfect.”
I gasped. “Have you even tried it before? How do you know it doesn’t make your burger that much better?”
“See, that’s the part you’re missing. I don’t need the burger to be better. I love the burger just as it is.”
I swallowed, staring down at my hands. I was pretty sure we were still talking about burgers, but the softness in his voice said this was something more.
“My turn,” he said quietly. “Truth or dare, Daisy?”
“Dare,” I said quickly. Too quickly.
Ty didn’t smile this time. Not right away. He watched me like he was choosing his words carefully.
“I dare you,” he said slowly, “to sit over here.”
My brows knit together. “That’s it?”
“That’s it.”
The booth wasn’t big. We already sat close enough that our knees brushed under the table. But his side of the booth was different. His space. His warmth.
I hesitated just long enough to be obvious.
Then I rolled my eyes and grabbed my Diet Coke. “We’re going to be those people now? The ones who sit on the same side of the booth, even when they’re alone?”
“Yes,” he said, completely unapologetic.
I slid out of my seat and into his side of the booth, the wood cool beneath my legs. The moment I settled, his thigh pressed solid and warm against mine. Not crowding. Just… there.
“Comfortable?” he asked.
I shrugged, staring at the table. “Kinda weird, but yes.”
A beat passed.
Then he shifted—just enough that our shoulders brushed. His arm rested along the back of the booth, not around me, but close enough that I could feel the heat of him through the thin fabric of my shirt.
My breath hitched.
“Still good?” he asked softly.
I nodded, because speaking felt dangerous.
“Okay,” he said. “Your turn.”
I latched onto the game like a lifeline. “Truth or dare?”
His answer came easy. “Truth.”
Why does this feel like standing on the edge of something?
Why are you so patient with me?
Why does letting you this close feel harder than being alone?
Nope.
“Do you secretly hate Cluck Norris as much as I do?”
His lips twitched. “No. I’m not afraid to be patient, waiting until he’s ready to love me as much as I love him. Eventually, he’ll realize his big personality doesn’t scare me, and I’m not going anywhere even on his bad days.”
Fuck. Now I definitely thought we weren’t just talking about a rooster.
I reached for my Diet Coke, needing something to do with my hands while my mind spun out.
“My turn,” he said quietly. “Truth or dare?”
“Dare.”
“I dare you,” he said, voice low and steady, “to let me hold your hand.”
My heart slammed.
It was nothing.
It was everything.
I looked down at the space between us—at his big, open palm resting on the table like an offering. Always patient. Never demanding.
I slipped my hand into his.
Ty’s fingers closed around mine, warm and sure, like this was the most natural thing in the world.
And just like that, the room faded. The TVs.
The chatter. The clink of glasses. All I could feel was his thumb brushing slow circles over the back of my hand, grounding and gentle and devastatingly kind.
He didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to.
This was his silent, I see you. I’ve got you, right when I needed it most.
The server appeared beside the table, balancing two plates. “Two cheeseburgers. Grilled onions on both. Mayo on the side.”
Ty thanked the server, never letting go of my hand. I stared over at him as he picked up his cheeseburger with his left hand and took a bite.
“Really?” I chuckled. “We’re turning this into a three-legged race, but with cheeseburgers?”
“Daisy,” Ty said, then waited until I looked up at him. “I am never going to be the first one to let go. But if you need to, I understand.”
My eyes stung with unshed tears I absolutely would not let fall right now. But I picked up my burger in my right hand and took a bite.
Should I have let go? Probably.
But I couldn’t.
I didn’t want to.
“Okay,” I said, forcing a brightness I didn’t entirely feel. “New rule.”
His thumb paused mid-circle, but his hand stayed steady beneath mine. “Of course there is.”
I nodded, grateful he didn’t argue. “No truths. Only dares.”
He nodded, then took another bite.
I slid the little dish of mayo toward him, and blinked up with a smile.
“Go on. I dare you.”
Ty gave me the most deadpan expression I’d ever seen on him, then dipped the corner of his burger in the condiment. “This is cruel and unusual punishment, sweetheart.”
I grinned. “Go on. Even Junie takes try-bites, right?”
He sighed, then took a bite. His jaw moved slowly, his expression never softening. “If you’re expecting to change my mind, don’t.”
A laugh bubbled out of me, feeling a little manic. I grabbed my phone from across the table and snapped a picture of his grumpy face, then put it back down. “Just in case I ever forget this moment.”
Ty shook his head. “I dare you to eat the rest of your cheeseburger, so we can get out of here.”
I leaned my head on his shoulder, and he dropped a kiss to the top of my head like we’d been doing this for years.
We ate in silence, but this time, the laughter and comfort didn’t ease the tightness in my chest.