Chapter 37 Dixon
DIXON
THREE DAYS AFTER TESSA’S ARRIVAL...
“Think she’d like these?” I stared at the chocolate covered strawberries I was holding. I’d picked up five different packages, trying to find the best-looking ones. These were dark chocolate dipped and then drizzled with white chocolate. Tray bounced over from the refrigerated cake display.
“We know she likes fruit. And only an alien doesn’t like chocolate. You’ve been debating them for twenty minutes, Dix. Just grab them.” He clapped me on the shoulder. I knew he was just trying to make me feel better, but I was spiraling down into one of my depressive moods.
“I want to get her something nice.” I frowned.
We’d practically provided everything Tessa could possibly need already, but I wanted to…
to… fuck, I don’t know. Hand her something personal, I suppose.
Chocolate covered strawberries. I dropped them back on the display.
What a joke. I was a damn joke. I’d never tried to properly date someone.
What do I do? What do I say? Tessa was here to be our mate, but I wanted her to like me.
I didn’t want her to bond with us out of obligation.
“So, no strawberries then,” Tray said good-naturedly.
I pushed a hand through my hair, feeling the frustration build. "I just want it to be special, you know?"
Tray's expression softened. "I know, man. But you're overthinking this. Tessa isn't expecting some grand gesture. She's been nothing but grateful for everything we've done so far. The way she’s been living before now…” his voice trailed off.
None of us liked to think about the way she was living before she’d arrived in Los Angeles.
Picturing her shivering on the streets made me want to tear down the goddamn world.
Burn it all to ash. I wanted to stomp my way to Seattle and beat up every fucker who saw her and didn’t help her get back on her feet.
I took a deep breath, pushing my Alpha instincts down.
"That's just it," I muttered, moving away from the bakery section. "I don't want her gratitude. I want…” it was my turn to let my words fade off into nothing. I wasn’t sure how to articulate what I was feeling.
"Her to choose you?" Tray finished quietly.
I nodded, throat tight. The fluorescent lights of the grocery store suddenly felt too bright, too exposing.
“It’s what we’re all feeling man.” He laughed, the sound almost startled. “Even me. Imagine that? Me, Tray the ‘loves everyone playboy’ who’s always up for a quickie as long as the person’s hot as hell. Part of me wants Tessa to choose me. Only me. Never thought I’d feel that way about anyone.”
“Yeah,” I nodded, agreeing. It was such a strange paradigm shift. “You know,” I swallowed, and then pushed the words out. “I’m glad she’s here. And even though I want her to want me, it also doesn’t change how I feel about you.”
Tray’s warm brown eyes searched my face. I felt heat begin to warm my cheeks.
“About how I feel about you, Ryder and Mac. All you guys,” I stuttered out the words, feeling like a coward.
“I know,” Tray said simply, a knowing smile softening his face. He cleared his throat seconds later. "What about flowers? That’s simple, classic. Can’t go wrong with roses. She seemed to like those yellow and pink ones.”
I scoffed. "Flowers die.”
It was a stupid fucking thing to say, considering I’d been so damn proud of the bouquet I’d bought to decorate the dining table only a couple days ago. Foolish. Cliché. Already wilting in the vase.
“Chocolate doesn't?” He quirked an eyebrow and I gave him a WTF look. “Die. Gets eaten. You know what I mean.”
"Fair point." I glanced around the store, desperate for inspiration.
Why the fuck had I come to a damn grocery store.
Should have gone to Rodeo Drive or The Grove.
My eyes landed on a small display near the checkout, just as my anxiety was beginning to reach a dangerous level.
"Maybe that," I murmured as I started walking over.
Tray followed curiously behind me. A sign above touted the items as last-minute gift ideas.
Silly coasters, painted wine glasses, magnets.
There was also a collection of small potted succulents.
I could see each one was slightly different.
Only one of them, though, sported a pink flower.
I liked that one. I picked it up, raising it higher so I could study the little thing. I didn’t know why I was drawn to it.
“I’m going to buy her this.” I strode away from Tray, not giving myself time to second-guess.
It was a plant.
How was that different than a bouquet of roses?
Stupid. This was a stupid thing to buy.
I kept striding toward an open checkout lane anyways.
"A cactus?" Tray called after me, jogging to catch up. "Dix, wait up. You're giving our mate a cactus?"
I clutched the small pot tighter, feeling defensive. "It's a succulent. And it has a flower."
What an idiot. A flower. I’d just argued against flowers. I’d already done the flower thing. I was beating myself up inside, but I was committed regardless.
"A cactus is a succulent,” Tray chuckled out, then gave a little frown. “Dix, it's spiky."
"So am I." The words came out sharper than I intended. I softened my tone. "Look, it won't die easily. She can keep it. It's practical."
Tray was quiet for a moment as we walked toward the checkout. "You know what? You're right. It's perfect for her. Resilient. Beautiful. Doesn't need much to thrive, but when it does..." He gestured at the tiny pink bloom.
I felt some of the tension leave my shoulders. Maybe I wasn't completely hopeless at this.
The cashier, a teenager with shockingly lime hair, barely glanced up as she scanned the little plant. "That'll be $4.99. No, sorry, $5.40 after tax."
“Big spender, Dix,” Tray teased.
I tapped my phone against the pay screen. It beeped, the sound followed by a rejection notice.
“Sorry, it’s been messed up all day. If your phone wallet won’t work, just use the chip reader.” The cashier was picking the neon lime polish off one nail, completely disinterested in doing her job.
"So, it’s just the contactless payment system that’s down?" I questioned, fishing out my gold Amex.
“Yeah, exactly. So just pop your card in.” Without looking up, she reached up mechanically and patted the card reader like I needed reminding where it was even though I’d literally just tried to use it.
“Got it,” I managed not to growl in irritation, but I didn’t sound happy.
At the change in my tone, the cashier finally looked up properly. Her eyes widened as she recognized me and Tray. Shit.
“Oh. My. God. You’re Dixon St. James.” Her gaze moved slightly to my right. “And Tray Rivers. Shit. My friends are never going to believe this!”
I glanced at Tray, who gave me a subtle shake of his head. We'd learned the hard way that denying our identities just made things worse. I forced a polite smile and pulled out my wallet instead.
"We just want to buy this and leave,” Tray jumped in before I could, which was probably for the best since I’d say something that would give Catalina more bad publicity to counter.
He leaned over the counter, putting on his patented Tray charm.
“You’d be doing me a personal favor if you wouldn’t call too much attention to us being here. ”
“Oh, right,” she said loudly, then dropped her voice conspiratorially. “Let’s get you checked out.” She glanced at her screen, then frowned. “Hold on, it timed out.” She scanned the plant again.
“Thanks,” I grunted, pushing my card into the reader, following the prompts, then pulling it back out again to shove into my wallet. When the receipt printed, the cashier handed it to me.
"Could I maybe get a selfie? Please? I'm such a huge fan. I’ve gotta have proof to show my friends.” She batted her lashes, which I now saw were thickly coated in navy blue mascara.
"We're actually in a bit of a hurry," Tray said smoothly, dialing up his smile to deepen his dimples. "How about an autograph instead?"
Though I could tell she was a bit disappointed, she nodded quickly, then scrambled for paper.
She ended up settling on a store flyer before snagging a black sharpie by the register.
Tray signed carefully, ending the ‘s’ in Rivers with a tail that turned into a wonky heart.
When he pushed it towards me, I signed with far less care.
“Thank you so much,” she mewled, wide eyes locked on our signatures once Tray handed it back to her. I grabbed the succulent off the conveyer; my fight or flight mode was still trying to decide which direction it wanted to take, so I needed to get the fuck out of the store immediately.
“Have a great day!”
I was already walking away as the cashier shouted the cheery goodbye. Tray was hot on my heels. We walked quickly towards the exit, but I could hear the girl already on the phone behind us.
"Stacey, you're not going to believe who just bought a cactus at my store..."
"Want to bet on how long it’ll take for this to hit socials?" Tray asked as we pushed through the automatic doors.
“Five minutes,” I grunted.
“Ten minutes,” he countered.
“Hundred?” I volleyed back our normal stake.
"Two hundred," Tray said, grinning. "And if it takes longer than twenty minutes, I win double."
"Fine, but then if it’s between zero and nine minutes, I’m the winner. And if it’s between eleven and nineteen, I also win.” I grinned, knowing I had him against the ropes. He was going to have to either hit exactly ten, or over twenty.
“Tricky, tricky, Dixxy,” he sang before poking me in the side.
We walked toward Tray’s Jag in the parking lot. As I reached for the passenger door handle, I stared down at the succulent in my hand. The bright pink flower seemed almost defiant against the green spikes surrounding it. There’d been other, prettier ones. This one had just felt right.
"You know," Tray said as he slid into the passenger seat, "I think she's going to love it."