Chapter 9 Dolly
DOLLY
This isn’t the best first date I’ve ever been on, but it could definitely be worse.
Ben is cute and a little awkward, which I find endearing.
He must be nervous because he’s got a thin sheen of sweat on his forehead even though the AC inside Mario’s Italian restaurant is cranked up.
I shiver, wishing I’d brought a sweater.
I didn’t want to cover my cute sky-blue sundress.
It has a flattering corset bodice and a lacy neckline.
My boobs look good, and my usually straight hair is in big waves around my shoulders.
I’m even wearing eyeliner and a lip stain.
I’m here to get over my fear of opening up to men and with dating and sex. This is purely experimental.
“You look stunning, by the way.” He smiles. “I’ve never been out with such a gorgeous woman.”
I smile at him.
He’s sweet. I’m attracted to him. This is fun!
Why am I trying to convince myself I’m having fun?
The waiter brings us a basket full of breadsticks and our drinks. I ordered rosé wine, and Ben got a beer.
“Can I get you something to eat?” the waiter asks.
I smile up at him. “Yes, can I please have the chicken fettuccine Alfredo?”
Ben nods. “That sounds good. I’ll have the same.”
He scribbles it down.
“Hey, can we get some shots?” He turns to me. “Do you like tequila or vodka?”
Shots? On a first date?
Maybe he’s just THAT nervous …
“Um, I’m good with whatever.”
My nerves are spiking now. Maybe this was a mistake. He seemed so sweet during the lake weekend, but I was also somewhat using him to distract myself from obsessing over Sam and embarrassing myself again.
Now that we’re here on a date, I’m questioning my decision. I reach for a breadstick, tearing it in half and stuffing one side into my mouth.
Ben turns to the waiter. “We’ll take two tequila shots with limes.”
The waiter nods and turns to leave. I look around, considering faking an illness to get out of having to do the shot.
What was I thinking?
“So, tell me about your book. You said it was fantasy? Is that like Lord of the Rings?”
I finish chewing and swallow, impressed that he remembers I was reading a book on my e-reader at Sam’s lake house. “It’s more like romantasy. The main plot is a fantasy, but it has a heavy romance plot as well. It’s a five-book series, and I’m finishing up book four. It’s so good.”
“What’s it about? Is there magic?”
Okay, bonus points for asking me about my book. Maybe I need to give him a chance. A man who actually has interest in me is better than one who pretends I don’t exist.
“It’s about this girl who was born into a human world, but later finds out her parents were a high fae and a witch. They cast a spell on her to mask her abilities until she turned twenty-five. Then, right before her twenty-fifth birthday—”
The waiter returns with our shots and limes and sets them on the table.
“Why did they want her to be raised in the human world?” he asks. He doesn’t reach for the shots.
“Because there was a prophecy that their firstborn would be sacrificed to the dragon in the high mountain before her twenty-fifth, but then she gets ripped into the universe she’s actually from by this mercenary who was contracted to deliver her to the fae king. And he’s hot—super hot.”
He laughs, shaking his head as he reaches for the shot. “Man, that actually sounds really good. Okay, let’s cheers to finding out how the hell she’s going to avoid fulfilling the prophecy and becoming a dragon appetizer.”
Liquid courage—that’s all he needs. It’s just one.
I grab for the shot and the lime. He clinks his glass to mine, and I down it before sucking on the lime to mask the bitterness.
“Damn, girl, you take shots like a champ. I guess that shouldn’t surprise me with four older brothers.”
I grin at him before a commotion at the front of the restaurant steals my attention. I turn to see Duke and Sam barreling toward us, both of their faces twisted with rage.
What the H-E-double-hockey-sticks …
I don’t even have time to process what the hell could possibly be wrong before they reach our table. Duke grabs a chair from a nearby empty table and drags it over to our tiny round one and gestures for Sam to sit in it.
My mouth forms an O, words failing me as Sam plops down in it and grabs a breadstick. He grins at me, but it doesn’t make it to his ocean-colored eyes.
“What’s up, Dollface? Sorry we’re late.” He’s clearly pissed, his jaw ticcing and eyes glaring at me before shifting to Ben.
Duke grabs another chair, shoving it between Sam and Ben before he sits and does the exact same. “Ah, my favorite—garlic breadsticks.”
I finally find my voice as rage bubbles up in my chest. “Excuse me! What do you two think you’re doing?!”
Ben’s face has blanched white, like he’s in shock. He leans back, eyes darting from Duke to Sam. Their mouths are full of breadsticks. Duke points to his mouth, like he can’t answer because he’s chewing. My internal temperature spikes.
“I am on a date, thank you very much. Get out of here.”
Sam’s knee is brushing up against mine, heating me from the inside out, like a furnace. I despise the way my body reacts to him.
Sam’s knuckles whiten as he grips the fork next to my plate. “Yeah? That’s fine. You guys carry on. Pretend we’re not here.”
“Yeah, why don’t you order another round of shots?” Duke stares at Ben, who is now sweating more profusely.
I don’t have an anger problem. With my congenital heart defects, I’ve always had to keep my reactions in check so that I quite literally don’t go into heart failure.
I’m about to push the boundaries of my deformed little chest organ with how pissed off I am at them for crashing my first date with a very nice guy who’s actually interested in me and my passions.
I fold my arms over my chest, debating just how much of a scene I’m willing to make to get them to leave.
Duke acting this way isn’t that surprising, but why is Sam here? He shouldn’t give a shit about me being out on a date!
The waiter approaches the table, staring at the intruders as he sets the plate of calamari down that Ben ordered with the drinks.
“Uh, do you guys want a drink?” the waiter asks.
“No,” I say firmly.
Sam speaks at the same time. “Yeah, we’ll take a couple of Millers on draft.”
“Biggest glass you have,” Duke adds.
Ben starts to rise, but Duke reaches out to clasp his shoulder. “Where are you running off to, buddy? We haven’t even eaten yet.”
Ben shakes his head, looking like he has seen a ghost and is ready to bolt. Duke finally drops his hand, allowing him to stand and take a step back from the table.
I stand up with him. “You know what? I don’t really feel like Italian food anyway. Let’s go somewhere else.”
Ben’s eyes widen, the last remaining color in his cheeks somehow fading away until he’s as pale as a sheet.
Oh. So, he wants to leave … without me. I guess I can’t blame him.
My stomach twists.
Duke rises from his chair, towering over Ben’s average height as he pats his arm. “You guys continue. We’ll just chaperone.”
“Chaperone? What is this, the 1800s? You’re fucking insane!” I screech.
The people eating around us are starting to stare, but I don’t give a fuck at this point. Sam is the only one sitting, and he’s chowing down on the calamari like he’s the one who ordered it. I snatch a piece out of his hand and shove it in my mouth.
He smirks, reaching for another one.
Ben glances around, clearly not enjoying the amount of attention that’s on us right now. I remember him saying that he’s naturally shy, and guilt stabs my gut.
Why should I feel guilty? This isn’t my fault!
“Ben, I’m sorry. I’ll deal with this. Can you just … text me?” I sigh, feeling the weight of the embarrassment and defeat.
He’s never going to talk to me again.
He nods, relief glazing over his features, obviously grateful for the out. He turns and nearly runs for the exit. I grit my teeth, sitting back down in my chair and jerking the calamari plate away from Sam.
“I will be enjoying the pasta I ordered, and you two will be paying for it after you explain to me in great fucking detail what the actual hell this is about.”
I dip a big piece of calamari in the marinara sauce and take a bite of it.
Sam’s denim-clad knee brushes mine under the table, but he doesn’t pull away.
My heart is thundering in my chest from all the excitement, but it’s also from the sudden memory flashing in my brain of the last time Sam Seymour gave me a shred of his attention on his boat out on the choppy lake.
Don’t think about it.
Duke takes the chair Ben just vacated and leans back against it. He lifts up his ball cap to scratch his overgrown dark hair before placing it back on his head. The waiter returns with the beers and drops them in front of the guys.
Sam grabs his, gulping down almost half of it. He still doesn’t pull his knee away from mine. Duke clears his throat and leans forward, his face suddenly solemn, eyes focused on me.
“Dolls, you know I’m not just some dick who doesn’t want you to have any fun. I … we didn’t plan on crashing your date. We were gonna let you guys finish eating, but then we saw you taking shots on a first date. Really? That guy had one thing on his mind for tonight.”
My mouth drops open. I resist the urge to look at Sam’s expression, instead staying focused on my brother. “And? What if I only wanted one thing too?”
I see Sam gripping his mug beside me, his body going rigid.
Yeah, someone else wants me. Someone else sees me and doesn’t play games.
Duke scoffs and shakes his head. “With that guy? Come on. You can do better than that. You deserve better.”
I roll my eyes. “So, you guys can do hookups and date for fun with no commitment, but when I do it, it’s suddenly a problem?”
He raises his beer to his lips and takes a long swig before answering, “You’re my baby sister. Last time I let you try to go out on a date and have a little fun, you know what happened. I could never forgive myself if history repeated itself.”
His intense gaze is laser-focused on my face, but I can sense the guilt swirling in his cerulean eyes.
A pinprick deflates my anger. Duke blames himself for Cain nearly raping me and Holden going to prison for his murder.
The overprotective-brother routine is a reaction, and it’s the only way he knows to act when he sees me trying to stretch my wings. It’s a trauma response.
I fold my arms over my chest, jutting my chin out. “That was years ago. I deserve to go out on dates, to get to know men and go home with them.”
The food arrives, interrupting us. The waiter sets my plate in front of me and places the second order intended for Ben between Sam and Duke. He offers us Parmesan cheese, and I nod. Duke digs in as soon as he leaves.
My appetite has shrunk considerably. I nibble on a bite of chicken.
“It’s not really about Ben.” Duke clears his throat, washing down a bite of his food with beer. “It’s really not just about tonight. Something happened.” His eyes find mine.
My pulse flutters. I glance at Sam. He’s studying the tablecloth, his jaw clenched. I can’t tell if he’s pissed that he’s having to deal with this family drama or angry about whatever Duke is about to tell me. His knee presses up against mine even closer.
“Holden got a letter from someone who’s angry about Cain’s death. Someone who wants revenge.”
My fork stills. Goose bumps prickle the skin on my arms. Sam’s knee presses even farther into mine, and I know it’s not an accident. The heat of his body leaks a steady stream of comfort into me and eases the tension in my muscles.
My lower lip trembles. “What?”