Dalton
She was driving me crazy, but in all fairness, I probably deserved it. Now that I wasn’t blinded by righteous jealousy, I could see that a bit more clearly.
There was also no way in hell that I was going to allow her to sign up for online dating.
I mean, what in the actual fuck? Not only would she be a huge target because of her looks, but if she was really looking to date a nice guy, then I could see her giving every creep that she came across the benefit of the doubt, forcing me to have to go on an ass-kicking rampage.
Yeah, that wasn’t going to happen.
Now, having fought with her for fucking years, I knew that this continuous arguing wasn’t going to get us anywhere. Not only was she more stubborn than she pretended to be, but we were both grown adults, and it was about time that we both started acting like it.
I reached out, then running my thumb across her jaw, I asked, “What tattoo did you get?”
Her blue eyes looked a bit confused as she sputtered a bit. “Wh...what?”
“Your tattoo,” I repeated. “Lynne wouldn’t tell me what you got.”
A sudden look of defeat marred her beautiful face, and I really didn’t like it. Regretting a tattoo sucked, and while most could be covered up by a good artist, getting something that you didn’t really want just to cover up something that you ended up regretting really was the worst.
“It’s personal,” she whispered, and the deep pang in my chest was real because I had no doubt that she’d shown it to Rya the very next day.
My fingers started playing with the worn edge of her collar. “C’mon, baby...show me your piece.”
As honest as the day was long, she said, “I’d really rather not give you another reason to make fun of me, Dalton.”
Yeah, it was looking more and more like I really did owe her that apology.
“What if I said that I was sorry?” I asked seriously. “What if I apologized for the way that I’ve treated you?”
She scoffed, completely unimpressed. “I’d say that you’re a liar on top of being an asshole.”
I smirked at that. Yeah, I wasn’t a liar, but Leandra deserved that hit. I owed it to her, and so she could call me whatever she wanted. Besides, she knew me well enough to know that I didn’t lie, so I wasn’t really too worried about it.
“Show me your tattoo, Leandra,” I repeated, trying hard not to get lost in those deep blue eyes of hers. “Let me see it.”
After a few seconds of staring me down, Leandra finally reached for the hem of her left sleeve, then lifted it to expose a medium-size piece of art.
I stepped back a bit, then grabbed her arm for a better look, and before I even had time to study it, it was clear that Lynne had outdone herself on this one.
The tattoo started at the apple of Leandra’s shoulder, then stopped right in the middle of her bicep.
It was a traditional heart, though the heart clearly looked battered and bruised, and it was torn open in the middle, like it was being ripped apart by someone’s bare hands.
Then, inside of the ripped heart, there was a life-like real heart, and though it was completely impossible, the 3D effect made it look like it was beating.
Honestly, I had no idea how Lynne had managed to finish the piece in one sitting, but she’d had, and it was an exquisite piece of art.
Then I thought about what she’d said about being made fun of. “Your idea or Lynne’s?”
“Lynne’s,” she answered quietly. “But once she explained the difference between getting something inspirational and getting something personal, I agreed wholeheartedly with her idea.”
I let go of her arm, then looked back into her blue eyes. “And why would Lynne think that you’re the type of person to wear their heart on their sleeve?”
She didn’t say anything for a long time, but when she finally spoke, it was to tell me to leave. “I think it’s time for you to go, Dalton. It’s getting late, and...well, quite frankly, you’re overstepping. Me and my tattoo are none of your business.”
Like I’d said, Leandra Rollins was a lot more stubborn than she liked to let on.
Yes, she was incredibly beautiful and had a body that stopped traffic often, but Leandra was not simple.
She wasn’t simple, nor was she dumb, easy, flighty, or lazy.
In fact, it was clear to see that the woman was way too good for me, and perhaps that’s been the problem all along.
No matter who she chose to go home with, she would always be out of his league, and it bothered me that she didn’t see it.
It bothered me that she kept settling.
“I’m making it my business, baby,” I said, finally giving in. “So, why did Lynne suggest that design?”
She waited another few seconds before saying, “Because she noticed the look on my face after you left the shop.”
There it was.
There was the admission.
There was the confirmation to what Rya had been telling me all along.
“And why would that matter, Leandra?” I asked, needing to make her say it, so that there wasn’t any confusion moving forward.
The woman obviously did not like having her back up against the wall because she said, “Get out.”
Instead of listening to her, I reached down, then began playing with the collar of her shirt again. “Tell me why it matters,” I repeated.
“Dalton...” she whispered, and she seriously looked close to tears.
I stepped closer, leaning down a bit, taking in her natural scent. “What, baby?”
“If this is a joke-”
“You’re out of your mind if you think that I’d ever joke about something like this,” I told her seriously.
Not wanting to be the only one to be taking a chance here, she asked, “And what about you? What are you really doing here, Dalton?”
“I’m here because you’ve been avoiding me for the past few weeks,” I answered honestly. “I’m here because Rya said that we’re driving her crazy. I’m here because I’m so fucking tired of denying myself, Leandra.”
“Denying yourself what?” she asked a bit breathlessly.
“You.”
“I...I thought you...you hated me,” she said, making me want to kick myself in my own nuts.
“And every single time that you went home with some loser, I wanted to hate you,” I finally confessed. “You have no fucking idea how much I tried to hate you.”
“That sounds a lot like jealousy,” she said, her voice soft and hopeful.
“It was,” I admitted. “Still is.”
“I hate how girls are always staring at you wherever we go,” she confessed, and while jealousy was an ugly and unhealthy emotion, I couldn’t lie and say that it didn’t make me feel better about our current situation.
“Because you think that I appreciate how guys stare at you?” I countered.
After a few seconds, she whispered, “I don’t know how to believe you.”
I deserved that.
I deserved that, and it was clear that I was going to have my work cut out for me, but I was okay with that. After all, anything worth having was worth whatever it took to get it, and I wanted Leandra Rollins, and I’d wanted her for way too fucking long.
“Then how do I make you believe me?” I asked, willing her to take pity on me.
“Kiss me,” she answered. “I’ll know it by the way that you kiss me.”
Looking into her eyes, I said, “Baby, you know it now.”
Leandra shook her head. “No...no, not at all. Right now, all I know is that I don’t want to be made a fool of.”
That was legitimate, but what she didn’t realize was that we all had that fear.
Male or female, no one wanted to experience a broken heart.
No one wanted to give the deepest parts of themselves to someone who wasn’t going to guard those secrets with their life.
No one wanted to love someone and not be loved back.
Now, while I could honestly say that I’d never been in love before, I didn’t have to experience heartbreak to know that it’d suck.
My hand moved from the collar of her shirt to wrap around the side of her neck, and her soft skin felt perfect against my palm. Leandra felt as delicate as I’d always suspected that she would.
Her pulse was also beating like a sonofabitch against my hand, and that was definitely a good sign. It meant that she was just as excited for this new development as I was, and even though I didn’t deserve it, I was still going to take advantage of it.
“The only fool in this room is me, baby,” I told her, meaning every goddamn word.