Chapter Sixteen #2
Hale looked over at us. “Fucking shit. You mean we’re gonna party all night, get drunk off our asses, and come home to pozole? That is the best shit for hangovers, colds, and heartbreak. Not to mention how much booze beans and rice can sop up.”
“I’m not sure anything’s better for a hangover than pho, but I’m willing to give it a try. My gran used to make some really good chicken soup every time I had a cold.” I could almost taste it.
“You’re close to your gran?” Hale asked.
“I was. My parents were busy with work and left us with her a lot. She always had time for me. Honestly, I liked being at their house a lot better,” I confessed. My grandfathers were all delightful and I missed them.
“I have a grandma that makes chicken soup, too. Any kind of soup with chicken in it made by someone that cares for you is gonna be good.” Hale was texting someone, then ran upstairs.
Carlos looked over at me, concern on his face. “Hey, Dusty’s a really good guy. He didn’t mean to cross the line or push you. He’s really upset about it.”
Dusty thought he’d crossed the line? I was the one who fucked him, then started yelling.
My hand went to my face.
Never mind. Of course he thought it was him pushing me that caused it, not me wrestling with my own inner conflict, because deep down part of me wanted to pursue him and see where it went.
The carefree part of me liked being pursued by a kind, thoughtful alpha. It was the practical part of me that was concerned about our very different lifestyles. The jaded part of me didn’t want to be looked down upon or made to feel like I wasn’t enough… Again.
I rummaged through the cupboards to see if we had any liquor.
“Dusty is a really good guy. That’s part of the problem,” I said softly, my hand wrapping around the bottle of tequila we’d opened last night. I held it up. “May I? It’s open.”
“Go for it.” Carlos continued chopping herbs, his knife skills excellent. He’d cooked for Fiona, but I’ve never actually watched him in the kitchen before.
“If you don’t want to be with Dusty, that’s fine. Like I said, he didn’t mean to cross the line, but you… you don’t need to yell at him.”
I opened the bottle, taking out a glass and pouring myself a generous amount. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have. He didn’t do anything wrong. I owe him an apology.”
“He’d like that. Like I said, if you don’t want to be with him, just tell him. He’ll get it.”
Oh, he would. Because for all of my making myself hard to find, and acting like I didn’t want his attention, I’d never actually told him no.
Carlos tossed a whole bunch of herbs and onions into the slow cooker. “Are you okay? Even if he didn’t cross a line, he must have accidentally hurt your feelings for you to yell like that.”
“Dusty makes me think about things I don’t want to think about, and have feelings I don’t want to have,” I blurted. Shite, here I was, confessing to my girlfriend’s boyfriend.
“Yeah, he’s good at that.” Carlos started mincing chilis.
I downed my drink, letting the strong liquor burn my throat.
“Should I apologize now? Or is it better to wait? I’m not entirely sure how his creative process works. It mystifies me.” I poured myself another. More guilt at yelling at him before his big night welled up inside me.
“It mystifies most people. Maybe a quick little apology to make him feel better and then if you need to elaborate, you can talk more after the show?” Carlos replied.
“Fair.” I sighed and turned the glass around in my hand. “How are you okay with what we do?”
“I go out on the ice and hit the equivalent of a rubber skipping stone at people’s heads, while skating around with knives for feet, and wearing an oversized jersey, shorts, and knee socks. Who the fuck am I to judge someone else’s job?” He gave me a look.
“Well, if you put it that way. But the other implications?”
He looked at me. “I know the jobs you take tend to make the world better.”
I gave him a hard look. “She told you that?”
“She tells me lots of things. Like how you sing in the shower.” He threw a clove of garlic at me.
I sighed.
“Why are the poor babies naked?” Fiona demanded as she came down the stairs.
“Hale was taking compromising photos in case we needed them for blackmail.” I sipped my drink. Okay, probably not, but Fiona and I had done that more than once.
“Hale! Please tell me you remember who was wearing what?” Fiona yelled.
Hale came thundering down the stairs. “Don’t worry, I took a reference photo.”
Fiona looked at Carlos. “We’re going soon, right? I should get ready. We’re going to the club, then to the festival?”
“I’m going to the club, then the festival. But if anyone wants to do something else, it’s fine. We’ll meet up later.” Carlos tossed the chilis in the slow cooker.
“I don’t mind. I just need to know so I can dress accordingly.” Fiona turned to Hale. “You will dress the babies before we leave. We don’t need them getting colds.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Hale nodded and started cleaning up his tableau.
Getting out my phone I texted Dusty.
Me
I’ll apologize properly later, but I wanted to say that I’m really sorry for yelling at you. It was shitty of me, and you didn’t deserve that. Good luck tonight.
He didn’t reply, but he was probably getting ready to meet his fans. I still felt a little edgy. While I didn’t want to date him, because he just wouldn’t fit into my life, I didn’t want to hurt him.
Dusty could make a good friend–and that was something I didn’t have enough of.