Chapter Twenty-One
Ruby
Dash’s sisters and mom are here, like right now, and I’m stealing his entire afternoon. Gosh, I feel awful. But how could I have known?
Dash seemed nervous to tell me about their arrival. Which makes me nervous. Does he think they might not like me? Is that why he’s so clearly giving me an out on meeting them tonight?
Or is it because I’ll only ever be a temporary diversion in his life?
Anxiety once again works its way into my limbs. I find myself shaking my foot under the table just to release some of the chaotic energy building in my system.
The waitress’ sudden appearance gives me a moment to gather my wits. But she leaves too soon, bringing Dash and me right back to where we were.
“So back to tonight,” he says, shifting in his seat. “I don’t want you to do anything you’re not ready for. If meeting my family makes you uncomfortable, it can wait.”
It can wait.
I mentally file those words away.
“I have to tell you though…” He leans forward, resting his muscled forearms on the table. His focus lingers where his finger traces a pattern in the rod-iron tabletop. “They already know about you.”Any attempt at breathing ceases.
My lungs freeze.
Seize.
Commence the hyperventilating.
“I didn’t mean for them to find out,” he continues. “Not yet, anyway. But apparently someone in the crowd snapped a picture of us together last night. They caught my almost altercation with that drunk guy, then me sitting next to you…”
Oh no. It’s somehow worse than I imagined.
“And B-Beck?”
Dash frowns, giving me a silent nod. “Yeah, him too.”
I have no idea how Mom will react to her baby boy’s face being plastered—wait. “Was this in the…the…” My brain trips over the word I’m searching for. “The tabloids or something?”
Dash slices a hand through the air. “No, no. Nothing like that. It was just shared in an online fan forum that my oldest sister is a part of. She tips me off when she sees anything I might want to take note of. Usually, people share sightings of me out and about. Silly things like that.”
Right. Because he’s taken care not to get caught up in any sort of scandal or drama. He’s a squeaky-clean hockey saint. He’s never even been spotted out with his ex-girlfriend. At least, not that I’m aware of. Then I come along and cause a stir simply by watching a game with him.
“Oh, Dash.” I press the tips of my fingers into my temples and squeeze my eyes shut. “I didn’t mean for this to happen.”
“Ruby.” His cajoling tone has me peeking one eye open. “Nothing has happened. It’s not a big deal that we were seen together.” He pauses, a deep wrinkle forming in between his brows. “Is it?”
“I don’t know,” I whine, dropping my hands. “Who knows how Mom will react to people snapping pics of Beckett?”
The lines around his eyes deepen. “I’m sorry that pictures of Beck got shared.
But you might as well know that dating me means you might be put under a microscope.
I’m not an A-list celebrity by any means, but I am still subject to public scrutiny.
If that’s not something you’re okay with, I completely understand.
I just want you to know that it does happen. ”
I bite my lip, that dang anxiety racing through my body on double speed.
“I’m not trying to scare you away,” he adds. “But you deserve to know the truth about my life.”
I nod dumbly, thoughts running wild. “Right. I understand.”
Silence swallows us up so thoroughly after that, I’m not even sure how to proceed. Seconds, or maybe even minutes stretch. My internal panic sesh seems to go on forever.
“Ruby, I didn’t mean for this to ruin our time together.” Dash’s softly spoken statement makes me flinch as if he yelled it at me across the table.
“I’m sorry,” I say, covering my mouth with my hand. “I don’t know why this has me so freaked out.”
Dash smiles. A surprising reaction to what I’ve just told him.
“It’s normal to be freaked out that your picture was taken and shared to a public forum without your knowledge or consent.
” He huffs a small chuckle. “I’m just glad you’re admitting that you are, in fact, freaked out and not trying to hide how you really feel. ”
“I don’t…do that.” Guilt and second-guessing war for first place. “Do I?”
He angles his chin toward me, never once letting his gaze stray from mine. “I can’t prove it, but I think you do it a lot. Not that I blame you,” he clarifies gently. “I’m probably not the type of guy you usually date. Unless pro-athletes are your thing, and you’re used to all this.”
A deranged squeak of a laugh slips past my lips. I go back to pressing my fingertips to my mouth. “Uh, no. Definitely not.” If only he knew my thing was barely dating at all.
“You have every right to keep your defenses high, every right to want your privacy to remain intact.” He looks down at the table, a sure way of avoiding eye contact. “But I’m still holding out hope that you’ll give me a chance.”
I blink, stunned. So honestly spoken, so at odds with the clear confidence he usually exudes.
His baring of the truth has me wanting to spill my secrets, to give him something real and raw.
Should I tell him about my non-existent dating life?
Or that I’ve never even made out with a guy like they do in the movies?
Or that I’m afraid to get too attached to him when he will be leaving soon?
I gather my courage, knowing I need to give him the truth. And he said he wanted me to show my real feelings with him, so…
“I’m scared to give you a chance when you’re only going to be here for a little while longer.”
His brows jump. Lips purse. And he nods to himself as if thinking something over. “Thank you for being honest with me.” His throat bobs up and down with his swallow. “Can I be honest with you too?”
I nod, bracing myself for the rejection that’s sure to come next.
“I didn’t want to ask you out because I was afraid, too.”
Swallowing hard, I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. “Why…why were you…?”
“I was afraid to ask you out because I felt an instant spark between us. When I look at you, when you’re near me, I feel this pull between us…even now I find myself wanting to reach across the table and touch you just to feel how soft your skin is.”
My eyelashes flutter. He…wants to touch me?
“I know that probably has you wanting to run out the door, but I have to tell you the truth. Because you’re right—I’m only here for a little while.
Pretty soon, I’ll be on a plane back to Utah, back to the lonely existence I relegated myself to before meeting you.
And if I walked away from you without letting you know how attracted I am to you, I’d hate myself forever. ”
He draws in a breath, then slowly releases it.
“In my experience, connections like this don’t happen every day. And I’d hate to think that we felt it, did nothing about it, and then parted ways lonelier than when we first met.”
I swallow, emotion building in my throat. Behind my eyes. In my chest.
“Look, I might be self-assured, or full of myself as my sister, Danica, would say—” he rolls his eyes, putting the phrase in air quotes—"but when it comes to you, I’m kind of an insecure mess.” The nervous laugh that rolls out of him has my attention sharpening.
“Why, though?” I have to ask. “I’m just…me.”
“Exactly.” His dark gaze sweeps over me, lingering on my every feature. “You’re you. The girl who captured me with one shy look. One awkward squirt of shaving cream later, and I was ready to recite vows.”
“Please don’t remind me.” I cover my face with my hands, shoulders shaking from silent laughter. Certainly, he’s only joking.
His laugh matches mine before quieting down. “I’m serious, though, Ruby. I want you to know that I’m falling for you way faster than I thought was possible. And I don’t say that to scare you, but to let you know that this isn’t scary for only you—it is for me too.”
I give a decisive nod. “Meaning I’m not the only one who has skin in this game.”
“Yeah. That. Nor are you the only one whose heart is at risk.”
Before I’m able to form a reply, our waitress appears with our food. My hunger seems to have vanished in light of everything we just shared, but I pick at the fries anyway.
The patio begins filling with more couples as the meal progresses, and Dash, likely knowing our privacy has been compromised, keeps the conversation light and steered toward tonight’s game.
It isn’t until he pays the check and we’re walking out of the restaurant that the air between us once again becomes electrically charged.
My arm brushes lightly against his, our fingers tangling together naturally. Over and over, our bodies gravitate toward one another as if tethered together by an invisible cord. I sneak a look at him, and he turns away.
We turn the corner, heading down the beautiful tree-lined street where the car is parked. Tiny sparks ignite each time his skin grazes mine. I can’t help but wonder what it would feel like if he gave in to the longing he described at dinner.
The need to touch me, he’d said.
The car comes into view, and I want to tell him that I feel it too…the spark he described. But that’s crossing a line I’ve not even toed before. To tell him that I want him to touch me or kiss me or whatever it is he’s thinking of doing?
My face heats to even consider it.
I must be so preoccupied, I’m not watching where I’m going because my heel catches in a crack on the sidewalk, and next thing I know, I’m falling sideways.
Dash’s hand reaches out to stabilize me. “Whoa, there. You okay?”
Looking down at the damage, I wince. “My heel just broke off.” I bend and grab the snapped off piece, grimacing at its uselessness.
“Good thing we’re almost to the car.” There’s a hint of amusement in Dash’s voice.
“True, or I might have asked you to carry me the rest of the way.”
His grin widens as his attention lowers to the offending shoe, then trails back up my body. “Ruby, can I carry you the rest of the way to the car?”
Forget my face heating, now my entire body lights up like a firework.
I assess the distance to the car. “I don’t know. I mean, we’re almost there…”
“It would be my absolute pleasure.” His voice deepens, quickening my pulse.
My eyes lift to his. “I guess you could. If you really don’t mind—” Before I can utter another word, Dash scoops me up, bridal style.
A whoosh of air leaves me the second I’m pressed against the solid wall of muscle that is Dash’s firm chest. “Wow. You’re stronger than I thought.”
Dash chuckles darkly. “Is that supposed to be a compliment?”
“Well,” I clear my throat, unsure where to put my hands. “Take it as you will.”
He seems to notice my awkward, hovering limbs because he says, “Wrap your hands around my neck, Tinsel. You’ll be more comfortable that way.”
I do as he says, giving him the chance to adjust his hold. “There. That better?”
“Mmhm.”
He starts forward, as if I weigh nothing, and marches us down the street. Each step brings us closer to his car, and closer to the end of this date.
The feelings he stirs inside of me are unlike anything I’ve ever felt. I don’t want him to put me down any more than I want him to go back home to Utah once the tournament is over.
We reach the car, and Dash carefully sets me on my feet. “Sorry,” he says with a small chuckle. “I couldn’t resist the opportunity to carry you. It may never come around again.” Just as he goes to grab the passenger side handle, I reach for every last ounce of courage I possess.
“Dash.” His name comes out a hoarse plea. “Wait.”
Before I can even attempt to verbalize any of the jumbled-up things my heart and brain are struggling with, Dash grabs my hand and laces our fingers together tightly.
“What’s the matter?”
I stare at our joined hands as a needy rush of warmth races up my arm.
“Is this okay?” he asks.
Nodding, I slowly meet his gaze. “I sort of love that you always ask me that.”
His other hand comes up to brush back a piece of my hair. “I always ask because I want you to know that you have all the control here.”
If anyone had asked me before this moment if Dash DiFranco could have gotten any hotter, I would have said no. But this man just went and blew even his fully suited up hockey hottie self out of the water.
That must be the reason I press myself against him, stretch up onto my tiptoes, and plant a kiss directly onto Dash’s surprised face.