by Staci Hart
Fuck my life, Apollo thought.
She’d set him up. Again.
Dita paused to face him, legs apart, hand on her hip, and took in his outward calm. Her eyes narrowed. “How are you not freaking out right now?” But she shook it off before he could respond, wagging a finger at him. “No. You know what? You’re not going to ruin this for me. Suck it, son!” She crotch-chopped herself WWE style, slamming her arms across her waist in an X formation before she spun around and marched to the elevator, her hair swinging in time with her hips.
Once she was out of sight, his face fell, and he leaned forward, his head in his hands, his mind rolling over one single thought.
I suck at this.
Day Ten
Dean walked down the sidewalk in the bright winter sun with two cups of coffee in hand. He had no fucking clue what he was doing as he approached the bookstore where Kara had told him Lex worked, and his nerves twisted in his stomach as he hoped he wasn’t about to make an ass out of himself.
As Lex had walked out of the warehouse the night before with Travis, Dean had realized the notebook sitting on the couch was hers. And he’d known she had his. He’d trotted over to the couch, picked her notebook up, and taken a step toward the door but paused, turning it over in his hands.
I could probably catch her, he’d thought.
But it was then he’d decided that he wanted her to read the words in his and took the opportunity to give her the chance to.
Dean had shoved her book in his bag, and on his way home, he’d grappled with whether or not to call her or take the notebook by her apartment. Or if he could let the whole thing ride. Her notebook felt like contraband even though he’d decided not to read it — he wanted to respect her privacy, which was funny enough. He hoped that she wouldn’t respect his.
No sleep found him. He could feel her notebook in the other room, worrying over her reaction if she’d read his and worried over his own if she hadn’t.
There were things in that notebook he’d never let anyone see, not even Roe. It was his heart laid bare and exposed. Maybe she’d think he was fucked up, crazy. Maybe she didn’t care about him enough to even think about reading it.
He couldn’t decide which possibility scared him worse.
Dean had known with absolute certainty as he lay staring at his ceiling that it was more than just infatuation. And now he had an opportunity dropped in his lap in the form of her misplaced notebook.
He wanted to know her, needed to know her, but he had no idea how to go about it. Not only did they have the serious obstacles of her having a boyfriend and the thin state of contentment that the band was in, but he lacked experience in getting to know people, especially getting to know women.
So instead of sleeping, he’d worked on a plan.
Dean knew he would see her at practice, but he needed to talk to her before they were in a room with Roe and Travis. He didn’t want to skirt around it anymore.
He wanted to meet her head on.
Thing was, he couldn’t do that in front of the band and her boyfriend. So the only solution was to find her before practice, which meant going to the bookstore where she worked, texting Kara for the address, which she gave gladly.
And so, Dean devised a plan that included coffee, admissions, and hopefully a resolution, one way or another.
He turned and pushed the bookstore door open with his back, stepping into the warmth of the little shop with his heart jackhammering his ribs.
Lex looked up when the bell on the door chimed and almost fell off her stool from shock when she saw Dean in the doorway.
Her pulse was a thundering of wild horses in her ribs, and she was left feeling like she’d summoned him after hours upon hours of imagining seeing him again.
She scrambled to close his notebook and throw some papers on top of it, jumpy and skittish. Her stress levels had been off the charts all day as she’d worried over the time when she would have to return it to him, hoping they would get a moment alone.
Lex couldn’t imagine giving it to him in front of everyone, in front of Travis. Not after she’d read what was in it — not when she’d discovered her own mind and self in the inner workings of his mind. His notebook was the problem she’d been looking for a solution for all day.
One problem solved, and a new one walks in, she thought as he strode toward her. His jet black hair was in perfect disarray, and dark Ray Bans sat comfortably on his elegant nose. He wore a slate gray hoodie under his black leather jacket, his boots were half-untied, and he looked absolutely, shockingly handsome. And dangerous. With coffee.
He cocked a half-smile at her as he set the coffee down and leaned over the counter, taking off his sunglasses. “Read any good books lately?”
Oh my God. I’m going to die.
She blushed so hard that she was sure her face was steaming. “I could ask you the same thing.”
He shook his head. “I didn’t.”
Lex’s heart skipped a beat as Dean reached into his bag and pulled out her notebook. He pushed it across the counter to her and opened his palm expectantly for his own. She reached sheepishly under the inventory sheet she had thrown on top of his notebook and handed it to him.
Their eyes met, and she knew he hadn’t read her notebook — her heart sank. Some foreign look colored his face. Innocence? He probably didn’t even care to read hers, and she’d been pouring over his like it was gospel.
Lex glanced down at her hands resting on her returned notebook, feeling like a voyeur.
“I read it,” she blurted out, her eyes on her fingers.
He watched her for a painful heartbeat before he said, “I was hoping you would.”
She looked back up at him, surprised and confused. Maybe he really had wanted her to read it. Or maybe it was all just an elaborate plan to get into her pants.
The bell on the door rang again as an elderly woman shuffled in with a street cart. Lex hadn’t noticed that two teenage girls had walked up behind Dean and were whispering to each other. Dean slid over so that they could approach the counter with his hands resting around his cup and his cool, green eyes on Lex.
Overly aware of his gaze on her, she rang up the girls on the antique cash register that dominated a large portion of the counter. She had to count the change twice, nearly dropping it on the counter as she handed it over. The girls almost ran into the door as they turned their heads to get a last look at Dean.
He seemed to have that effect on everyone.
Dean glanced up at Lex and back down at his hands. “No one has ever read them before. I’ve never wanted anyone to before you,” Dean said simply as he spun the cardboard ring around his cup.
She was stunned and confused. “You’re not mad?”
“No, I’m definitely not mad. And I have a confession to make.” He ran his hand through his hair, pushing it back; it almost instantly began to fall forward again. “I realized you had it just after you left.”
“So you let me keep it on purpose, hoping I would read it?”
“I wanted you to know what the pages held.”
Her breath caught. “I do. Every page, every word.”
They were silent for a moment before she spoke again. “Why didn’t you read mine?”
“Because I had a feeling you wouldn’t appreciate me reading your private thoughts.”
She bit her lip. Normally, that would have been true. She couldn’t stand it when anyone tried to peek at her sketchbooks and notebooks where her heart lived, but she wanted to know what Dean thought of her work and for him to know part of her as she knew him. In fact, Lex hadn’t slept, not only nervous about Dean’s reaction to her reading his notebook, but also considering how he would react to reading hers.
Dean’s eyes were on her lip as she nibbled it, waiting for her to speak until someone cleared their throat behind him, breaking the silence between them. When he looked back, the little old lady’s face was stern behind her cat-eye glasses, and her gray bun was tight and severe
on top of her head.
He turned back to Lex, feeling a smile on his face.
Lex’s hair curled loose around her face, and she tucked a strand behind her ear as she pursed her lips, stifling a smile. Her fair skin looked like porcelain against her black sweater, and her pink cheeks were flushed hard. Dean momentarily forgot that they were in public and realized that he wanted to be alone with Lex very, very badly.
He moved out of the way, buzzing with nervous energy. “Excuse me,” he said to the woman.
Dean turned to walk through the store, trying to calm down, thumbing the books on the shelves while Lex rang her up. In an inlet between bookcases sat a very large man with a very tiny dog on some oversize pillows, reading a romance novel titled Wined and Dined with what looked like an illustration of Fabio on the front. His shirt was too small, and his shiny, bald head caught the sunlight from the window as Dean passed, smiling.
He wandered back to Lex, who looked like a doll behind the enormous counter, and swallowed hard, drawing on his reserve confidence to do what he’d come to do.
“Lex … ” he started, the rumble of her name from his lips sending a rush of warmth through her chest.
She held her breath, frozen as she watched him. Dean looked both self-assured and uncertain, the combination heartbreakingly sexy.
She wound her fingers together tight. Here it comes.
He met her eyes, and she thought she might drown in them. “The band is off on Saturday. Spend the day with me.”
The temptation was almost too much. “Dean, I—”
“I know what you’re going to say. I’m sure you know about me, especially now that you’ve had a chance to study my notebook.”
She felt like an asshole at that, but he smiled, though it fell almost immediately as he continued.
“I don’t do this,” he said, motioning between them. “I mean, I’m not even sure I know what I’m doing. But I want to … Lex, if you feel what I’m feeling, I want to know. And if there’s more to us, I want to see where that goes. I want one day with you. Will you just give me one day?”
Like a deer in headlights, she was paralyzed as her mind went a zillion miles in a split second. Did she want to? Yes. Very much so. But could she?
The only way she could pull it off was if she lied to Travis about being with Dean for the day. Her stomach twisted. What would he say if he found out? How could she do that to him? Guilt slipped over her. And then bargaining.
If she and Dean went just as friends — no promises, no kissing, nothing more than talking and getting to know each other — that wouldn’t be wrong, would it?
But what if she did find that she cared about Dean? It seemed like a sure thing that she would. She didn’t want to get hurt, and Dean was dangerous. Although she could feel his pain, his loss, his loneliness in every word of his notebook.
Could she trust him?
Could they trust each other when they hadn’t trusted anyone before?
Could she let the chance walk out the door?
“Okay. One day.”
His face softened. “Saturday. Nine in the morning. Meet you at the coffee shop?” He held up his coffee cup.
“Nine on Saturday. I’ll be there. Wait, take this.” She handed him her notebook. “You showed me yours, so technically … ”
“Thanks. I’ll see you,” he said, smiling as he took the book and sauntered out the door, taking one last look over his shoulder while he put on his sunglasses, leaving her breathless and reeling in the bookstore.
“I couldn’t say no, Kara.”
Lex rubbed her lips with the pads of her fingers as she sat on the coffee table, long legs bent, the toes of her ankle boots turned in. She’d come to Kara’s straight after work, completely frazzled as Kara sat on her couch, pleasantly flabbergasted.
“So. A date. He brought you coffee and asked you on a date. Which you agreed to.”
Lex pressed a hand to her forehead. “Yeah, it’s looking that way.”
So that’s what he needed the bookstore’s address for. “And you’re not telling Travis?”
“No, I need to see what happens first. Because if I tell him I’m going on a date with Dean and break up with him, the band could implode. If I just break up with him and Dean and I end up … whatevering, I’ll still be around Travis. It’s happening too fast, too soon to be able to plan.” She shook her head, flustered.
“Okay, say the date’s a flop. What happens then?” Kara guided Lex through the maze of her thoughts, as she had a million times before.
“I have to leave Travis, flop or no flop. That’s all there is to it. But … well, if the date doesn’t go well, I could just tell Travis that it wasn’t working out, and we could part ways. No one would be the wiser. No band drama. Just a clean break. Of course, if it goes well, we’ve got to tell Travis the truth. I just don’t know what he’ll do, how I’ll hurt him. And what about the band? What if Travis leaves?” She groaned and dropped her head to her hands.
Kara’s lips flattened. “I’m a little concerned that you’re not going to make it out of this with a clean conscience.”
Lex sighed, lifting her head. “This is wrong on so many levels, but I’m determined to play it cool. No kissing, no hanky-panky. We can just see if whatever we think is between us is actually there, and if it is, then we’ll figure it out.”
“And how are you feeling about breaking up with Travis, since that’s inevitable?”
“God, that’s the worst.” Lex shook her head, eyes unfocused, disappointment and sadness hovering over her. “He’s not my forever guy. I guess I’ve always known that deep down, but I care about him, Kara. I just don’t want him to get hurt, which seems like it’s pretty much impossible at this point.”
“Okay. What kind of outcome are you looking for here?” Kara asked.
“Well, in my dreams, Dean sweeps me off my feet and we ride off into the sunset together. In my nightmares, he’s a sleazebag, and I bail as soon as I can. It could be any situation. I have absolutely no idea what I’m walking into.” She slumped with her arms on her knees.
“I think it’s important to note that you just said that in your nightmares, he’s a jerk.” Kara looked Lex over and shook her head. “You’re kind of freaking out, and it’s freaking me out.”
Lex tilted her head, confused.
“You’re smitten. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in such a state of emotional disarray,” Kara said on a chuckle.
Lex rolled her eyes and sighed again. “I know. And what the fuck? Could it be with a more inappropriate guy?”
“Actually, Lex, no. It could not.”
Roe leaned into the corner of Dean’s low-backed gray couch with his lips pinched together, trying to shut down the smirk that threatened to fight its way onto his face. He was a terrible poker player, and he knew it.
“Hey, so, uh, let’s hang on Saturday,” Roe said.
Dean’s head shot up, and his hand stilled midair as he placed a Muddy Waters record on the deck of his record player. His mouth opened, and his eyes went wide for a split second before he caught himself, replacing the look with one of mild interest.
“Ah, I’ve got plans.” He set the record down and placed the needle on it, and a bluesy guitar riff flowed out of the speakers.
“Plans, huh? You don’t want to go out?”
“No.” Dean sat in an armchair, tense and guarded.
“Really? I mean, have you been with anyone since Jenny?”
“No.”
“That’s got to be some sort of record for you.”
“Funny.”
“So, who are your big plans with?”
“Someone.”
“Someone? Like the someone you’ve been watching like a stalker at practice, who just happens to be dating our drummer?” Roe tried to look accusing, and judging by the look on Dean’s face, he thought it might actually be working.
Dean froze, his eyes narrowed. “Who told you?”
“No one had to t
ell me, Dean. It’s pretty obvious.”
Dean sagged into the armchair, and his hand moved through his hair. “Give me a break, Roe. This is kind of a big deal.”
“Oh, I realize that.”
Dean paused, watching Roe like he was a bear trap. “Are you going to try to stop me?”
“Depends.” Roe shuffled in his seat like he was bored and picked a piece of lint off the front of his shirt.
“On … ”
“How this conversation goes down.”
Dean’s pointed stare softened marginally. “All right, let’s hear it.”
“What are your intentions?”
“Jesus,” Dean huffed, “what are you? Her dad?”
“No, but I do seem to be the only one who’s interested in keeping the band together.”
“Roe, I don’t know,” Dean said on a sigh. “I have no idea how to do this. I’m flying blind here.”
“Okay, since you can’t take a hint, are you going to one-and-done her?”
“That’s not my plan,” was Dean’s answer, the words a little more tight and a little more defensive than he meant for them to be.
“And what is your plan? Dude, you are so much work.”
“I asked her to spend the day with me to see what happens. We can’t get more than five minutes together to talk, and I want to talk to her. I want to know her.”
“Like in the biblical sense?”
That garnered a small laugh. “Eventually, but that’s not what I meant.”
“I know,” Roe said, the words touched with understanding. “Well, if you decide to go after her, you’d sure as hell better have a plan in place to keep the band from imploding.”
Dean let out a breath and sat back in his chair. “Thanks for not pushing this — I didn’t want to fight you on it.”
“But you would have?”
“Yeah, I would have.”
Roe raised an eyebrow at Dean’s confession and ran his hand over his mouth. He knew Dean was into Lex in a way he hadn’t seen before, which was why he’d already decided not to press it, but Dean’s compliance was surprising even if Roe had to drag the information out of him.