Chapter 16 #2
“There’s not much to say, I guess.” Dash took a sip of his coffee.
“He’s loving and supportive—and he has a lot of opinions and isn’t shy about airing them.
As far as he was concerned, taking his money meant that he had a say in every decision I made.
He was more than happy to buy me a car, but only the one he approved of.
He’d pay my tuition, but only if I chose the school he thought had the better art program.
Stuff like that. He’s mellowed out a lot over the years—especially after my grandmothers bullied him into going into therapy and it helped him realize he was being way too controlling. ”
“God, your grandmas are my heroes.”
“Anyway, the thing is, I get where you’re coming from,” Dash said with endearing earnestness. “I understand the need to be financially independent—and trust me, I know how good it feels. I just hope the money’s not getting in the way of you pursuing your dreams.”
He drained the mug and set it on the counter, the corners of his lips turning up and down like a flickering light bulb. “Sorry, it’s probably the old hero complex rearing up again.”
I couldn’t keep myself from brushing back a lock of his hair with my non-sticky hand. “Trust me, I’ve been avoiding working on my screenplay since before you showed up.”
“Because it’s safer not to try than risk failure on something you want so badly?” he guessed.
I made a face. “Dash, are you trying to make me be introspective again? Haven’t we already established how far and fast I can run to avoid talking about my feelings?
I haven’t spent all these years building up walls and fortifications and a goddamn moat just to open the door to the first person to knock on it. ”
He leaned back against the counter, which was all of two feet long. “There’s a moat, huh?”
“Of course there’s a moat. Don’t you underestimate my imaginary fortifications.”
“I would never. And I’d never ask you for more than you felt you could give. But if you ever wanted to let down the drawbridge…”
I set down the bagel and reached for the waistband of his boxers. “How about I let down my pants instead? Oh, wait, I’m not wearing any. I guess that means I have to let down yours.”
Tugging the waistband down slightly, I let my gaze travel over him, slowly, admiringly.
“Like what you see?”
His words were light enough, but the expression in his eyes was molten. If a few words of praise were all it took for desire to start surging through my body, I was pretty sure that being looked at was Dash’s kink.
“I like everything about you, Dashwood,” I said, matching his light tone even though my gaze was heavy on his body.
“Do you, now?”
The subtle motion he made with his hips was enough to make my fingertips collide with more than his waistband. I let my hand drift down, holding his gaze.
And just like that, another deep, emotional conversation was averted. As I tugged Dash toward my bed, though, I couldn’t help thinking that sooner or later, my luck was going to run out. And when it did… when Dash finally decided that he’d had enough of me and my shenanigans…
Yeah. I probably didn’t want to think too hard about what would happen then.
“Okay, so it’s not a small crowd,” Dash said, staring out at the sea of humanity crowded into the rooftop bar where Kate & Leopold was being screened.
He and I were behind the screen, mostly out of view of the dozens of people in folding beach chairs. The sun was sinking behind the skyscrapers surrounding us, and lights were coming on all around us, though the lighting in the bar itself was being kept low.
“You got this, though, right?”
The string lights looped above our heads made Dash’s eyes sparkle when he looked at me.
Or maybe it was just his excitement at being in front of a crowd.
I was full of adrenaline, too, only mine was the nervous kind that tightened into knots in my stomach even when Dash answered me with an easy “I got it.”
A smile full of confidence and anticipation tugged up the corners of his lips and I found myself smiling back. “You got it, all right,” I said, and all the knots in my stomach couldn’t extinguish the flirtiness in my tone.
Threading his fingers through mine, he leaned in for a kiss. If I’d been stronger, I would have reacted by placing a hand in front of his face. But I’m not made of stone, okay? He leaned in, and even though I should have known better, so did I.
Or started to, anyway. I didn’t get too far before I heard someone clearing their throat right behind us.
Springing back like I was the wallflower who’d been surprised in the middle of an illicit kiss with the duke, I turned to see three girls a few years younger than me clustered by the edge of the screen.
Their gazes were darting between us, bright with so much curiosity that I felt myself shrinking back.
“Shut up,” one of them said. “The Duke of Harding has a girlfriend?” Her gaze swept over me, taking in my outfit and ending with a nod of approval. “I ship it.”
“Assistant,” I blurted out, taking a step away from Dash like I’d just been told he was contagious. “I’m his assistant.”
The second girl raised an eyebrow. “I’d swap jobs with you anytime, queen. Bet it comes with a ton of employee benefits.”
The third one wasn’t saying much, mostly because she was looking like she was going to cry as she looked at me.
“It’s not like that at all,” I started to say.
Without missing a beat, Dash slipped into his Duke of Harding accent. “How may I help such delightful ladies?”
“Would you do a quick video with us for BookTok?” the second girl said. “I have almost a hundred K followers and they all love you.”
Dash smiled. “I shall endeavor to do my best, my lady. What would you have me do?”
With the intensity of a Hollywood director the second girl told everyone where to stand. I hung back, taut with anxiousness at the visions of our near kiss going viral on the apps.
The TikTok was a quick one, which was a good thing because we only had a few minutes before Dash had to be on stage on the other side of the screen. As they finished recording, the girl that had been silent up till then darted out a hand that she placed on Dash’s arm.
She burst out with “Everything you say is just so—so romantic. I’ve never met a guy who talks like that. It’s like you get me. Like you see me.”
The fingertips on her other hand were toying with her neckline, gliding over her collarbones and hooking on her layered necklaces. From her expression, it wasn’t hard to tell that she wished it was Dash touching her.
The knots in my stomach tightened into hard little lumps.
Dash took a subtle step back, ostensibly to sweep into a bow, but I could tell it was his polite way of moving out of touching range. It was a skill he must have honed as a cosplayer at cons. “We endeavor to please,” he said easily.
Even with the unsolicited touch, Dash was almost vibrating with excitement when the girls wandered off.
“Sorry for being toxic, but she’s not even that pretty,” I heard one of them say.
Groaning, I buried my face in my hands, lifting it only long enough to say, “See, this is why we have to be careful when we’re out in public.”
Dash shrugged. “I didn’t realize anyone was looking.”
“This is New York, Dashwood. There’s an influencer recording stuff in every corner, so remember to keep your pants on.”
“I feel like I should point out that I had no intention of removing my pants,” Dash said, and flashed me a smile. “As much as I think the fangirls would have appreciated that.”
I had a second to imagine the riot it would have caused before Dash accosted me with “Hey, so I was wondering if you wanted me to mention your name while I was up there.”
I met his smile with a frown. “Why would I want that?”
“I feel like an asshole taking all the credit for this. I mean, it was your idea in the first place. You do most of the writing.”
I gave him my best insouciant shrug, even though the mere mention of giving me credit had made my palms turn clammy.
Sliding my hands in the pockets of the sheer dress I had layered over jeans and a tight crop top, I said, “I don’t need validation from online strangers. And besides, it’d ruin the illusion.”
He raised an eyebrow. “I highly doubt anyone here thinks I’m actually a member of the nineteenth-century aristocracy.”
Was he really trying to push the point when there was only a flimsy screen separating us from the hordes of fangirls?
Panic fluttered inside me. Maybe a little resentment, too.
Things were easy for Dash in a way they weren’t for me—it was frustrating how he didn’t see something that felt so overwhelmingly obvious.
I wasn’t ready to fail in public. Not when all my other failures were still looming over me. Not when I’d barely had a chance to wrap my head around our success.
And yeah, okay, so I did want validation, and I didn’t particularly care where it came from.
But there was one thing I wanted more than that, and it was to not fall flat on my face in front of the whole world.
The way things were right now, if it all went to shit, there would be no harm done.
I’d toss the Duke of Harding under the bed along with all the other hobbies I’d abandoned or failed at.
I should have said all that to Dash, I guess. All too aware of the crowd on the other side of the screen, all I did was scowl. “You know what I mean.”
And if he didn’t, there was no time to explain because the bar’s events coordinator was coming toward us.
“Dash and Mariel, right?” he asked, reaching out to shake our hands before removing his black-framed glasses to give them a quick wipe on his T-shirt.
“Thanks for coming early, guys. We’ve never really done this kind of live preshow before movie nights before, so we’ve all got our fingers crossed the crowd likes it.
We should be ready to start in about ten. Does that sound good?”