Maybe there’s hope for me.
For us.
Twenty-Two
Dylan
Navie gasps.
I knew she would. She has some kind of Spidey sense about things like this … things that have to do with sex or things that include me being embarrassed.
This one is a double or nothing.
“Dylan,” she squeals as I come through the door.
“I’m not even fully in your house yet, and you’re already squealing.”
“You’re glowing,” she says.
“I’m not pregnant, Navie.”
“No. Maybe not. But if I’m guessing, I’m going to say that you’ve been partaking in activities that could result in a little baby Ward.”
I don’t mean to laugh, but I do. “That’s not funny,” I say, despite the chuckle.
She plops down on her sofa. She’s downright smug.
I sit in the chair and try to maneuver the conversation to other things … before we come back to my glow. There’s no doubt we’ll discuss it. And I kind of want to. I need a sounding board.
“That new movie I was telling you about—the one with the strippers—it’s playing in Merom. I saw it on the sign yesterday,” I say.
“Mhmm.”
Redirection might be harder than I thought.
I just need a minute to get my bearings. My plan was to figure things out in my head before seeing Navie, but that proved to be difficult—if not impossible.
“Want to get some dessert?” I ask. “I’ve been wanting to check out Carlson’s Bakery.”
“Mhmm.”
“Navie …”
She laughs. “What I want is for you to tell me what put that look on your face. You want to do that in a movie theater? Cool. At Carlson’s over a Reuben sandwich? Awesome. I don’t care. Pick whatever venue you want, but we’re discussing this.”
Plucking my favorite blue pillow from beside Navie, I tuck it next to me on the chair. Might as well get comfortable. This may take a while.
“Okay. Where do I start?” I ask.
“Just answer this first, and then you can go wherever you want with it: is he as amazing in bed as I imagine?”
My skin heats as I recall Peck’s firm yet gentle touches. My lips part as memories of him taking control with his mouth flood me. My thighs squeeze as I remember what it’s like to have his head, his hands, his cock between them.
Dear Lord. I might never be okay again.
“That’s a yes,” she chirps. “I knew it. I can tell.”
“Well, it’s not like it was hard to guess correctly. You’ve seen the man move.”
“And you’ve felt it.” She scoots around in her seat. “So give me the details. Are you guys a thing now?”
I force a smile to hide my uncertainty. Truth be told, I know we aren’t a thing. I’m not messed up about that. But I don’t know what we are.
Friends? Friends with benefits? Lovers? Two people who made a mistake?
When we curled up together and fell asleep moments before dawn, I had one opinion. And when I woke up alone this morning with a note that he went to Nana’s, I had another.
It wasn’t as if I expected anything to change because we’d been intimate. But it does make me feel a little off-balance that he left me in his bed when I’d met Nana before.
“I’m overthinking everything,” I tell Navie.
“Of course you are. I’m here to help break all that down.”
I bite a fingernail, mulling everything over.
“Dylan. Stop it.”
“I just …” I drop my hand. “I don’t know what to do. I can’t wrap my head around it.”
She wiggles her eyebrows. “But could you wrap your hand around it?”
I throw the pillow at her.
Laughing, she hands it back to me. “What’s the problem? Honestly. What are you all hung up about?”
“It’s like … now what? He’s great. We’ve slept together. I freaking live there. There’s no way, no way, Navie, this can end well.”
“And why the hell not?”
I spring to my feet and walk around the little room. Days ago, my stuff was stacked in the corner of this space. Days ago, I was waiting to strike out on my own. Days ago, I had a clear picture of what the next phase of my life would look like, but now I don’t freaking know.
“Look,” I say, stopping next to the television. “Peck was gone when I got up.”
She thinks. “He goes to church every week. I bet he didn’t want to wake you up.”
“Maybe. But the point is, I haven’t had time to talk to him, to even see him, since about five minutes after he pulled his cock out of me. And by that, I mean I don’t know what he’s thinking.”
“Probably that you looked like an angel in his bed and he wanted to leave with that imagery,” she offers, speaking slowly. “Like you said, you’re overthinking. Breathe. Relax. Go make yourself some tea.”
I shake my head. “If I go back and things are weird, do you know how awkward that will be?”
“Pretty damn awkward.” She gets to her feet. “But I highly doubt that’s what’s going to happen.”
“Fine. What if I go back and he’s like, ‘You are the love of my life’?”
She laughs. “Also highly doubt that’s what’s gonna happen.”
“Gee, thanks.” I bury my head in my hands. “I just feel like this happened so naturally and so fast that I’ve lost all perspective.” I look up at her. “A few days ago, he was professing his love for Molly, according to you.”
“He was lying,” she scoffs. “You’ve given him a taste of the real thing. He probably doesn’t even remember who she is.”
I roll my eyes but give her a smile.
This is why Navie is my best friend. She knows what to say and always has the utmost confidence in me. I love her.
I sit back down again. My feet curl up beneath me as I try to settle my thoughts into a more manageable stream.
“Okay. Here’s the thing,” I say slowly. “I did what I always do—I jumped in too fast. I threw caution to the wind and—”
“And there’s nothing wrong with that.”
“No, there’s not. Except for the fact that now I have to deal with the consequences.” I frown. “Peck seems like a really good idea. A damn good one. But … am I prepared to deal with a man right now? One who may or may not have an unrequited love for a very specific woman?”
Navie holds up a finger, heading toward the kitchen. It gives me a small moment to consider things about Molly.
Unrequited love isn’t really true, I guess. Peck told me he’d love Molly forever, but after our talk the other night, I know he’s reassessing how he loves her and what that love means. But it doesn’t necessarily mean he’s emotionally available for me. I mean, Peck’s a virile man, and I’m sure he’s slept with many women over the years.
And they’ve never amounted to anything.
Gah! Brain, stop thinking.
Navie comes back with a glass of tea, handing it to me and then sitting on the couch.
“If it’s what he wanted—to try to see what was between us, if anything, and it could stay so easy breezy, I could go for it. But if it’s going to get all complicated and I have to jockey for a position with Molly, I … I don’t wanna do that, Navie.”
“I get it.”
“But I also don’t want to sleep with a guy who I could be good friends with otherwise and screw it all up because of the actual screwing.” I blow out a breath. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
Navie leans forward, putting her hands on my knees. She looks me right in the eye. “Yes, you should’ve. Because you have to learn to trust yourself. Something in your brain told you it was okay to let your guard down, and you have to trust that voice.”
“But that voice has led me astray before.”
She grins. “Even inner voices have bad days.” She sits back again. “You need to calm down and stop thinking about all the bad things that m
ight happen and focus on all the good that’s possible.”
“Like …?”
“Lots of orgasms, from the sound of it.”
I laugh. “Girl …”
She laughs too. “See? And what if this whole thing turns out to be something good. Then what? Then you’ll kick yourself for doubting it in the first place.”
I take a sip of the tea and try to do as instructed. I try to relax.
My body is still buzzing from last night. My muscles ache, and some feel stretched. It’s a lovely feeling and would be even better if I could kick this mental silliness.
“Let’s think proactively,” Navie suggests. “What can you do to make yourself feel better about this? Besides talking to him, which I’m assuming you’ll do when you go home.”
“That’s the plan.”
“Okay. Good. Now let’s develop the rest of the plan.”
I rest my head on the chair and ponder my situation. If I boil it all down, the part that bothers me the most is being stuck there in a situation I don’t want to be in. If I didn’t live with him, I’d be more open into seeing where things could possibly go between us.
“I need to have another housing option in my pocket,” I say. “Speaking of which …” I set my tea down on the end table and slip my phone from my pocket.
“What are you doing?” Navie asks.
“Hang on.”
I open my text app and then scroll through my contacts until I find Joanie’s name.
Me: Hi, Joanie. It’s Dylan Snow. I was wondering if you found the information for the house we were discussing. I’m still very interested in it.
I look up to see Navie’s watching me.
“What?” I ask.
“What are you doing?” she repeats.
“Just seeing if Joanie, my boss at the bank, found any information on the house she knew about for rent.”
Navie’s lips twist. “I can’t argue your logic there. Maybe it would be better if you weren’t staying with him. I can see how that would muck stuff up.”
My stomach settles, and a calmness sweeps over me. It’s from the tea or the text or from discussing things with Navie. I don’t know which, but I do know I’m grateful to feel it.
“Okay. Now lunch?” I ask. “I really want to try the coffee cake at Carlson’s.”
“It’s the best. You should just buy the whole cake and eat the rest for breakfast. That’s what I do,” she says with a shrug. She glances at her watch. “Or we could grab something real quick and still make the movie.”
I nod.
Even though our decision is made, neither of us moves. I just sit and revel in the knowledge that I have Navie so close to me again. It feels so good to have someone in your corner.
The moment is broken when my phone buzzes in my head. I look down.
Mom: I called you a couple of days ago. Koty needs to borrow some money for Gia’s birthday party. She’ll be eight, if you didn’t remember. Could you send a check? A couple of hundred should be enough, I’d say. I told her you would.
I roll my eyes and turn my phone off. “Are you ready?”
“Yup. Let’s go.”
Twenty-Three
Dylan
The television is on. A sitcom I’ve never seen before plays out in front of me. It’s not really that interesting, and I don’t get the humor, but it’s enough of a distraction to warrant leaving on.
The movie Navie and I saw was great. The buttery, salty popcorn was even better. But now I’m home again. Alone.
I glance at my phone, but there’s no text from Peck. No missed call. No anything. I don’t know what to make of that. And even though Navie had my nerves mostly chilled out by the time I dropped her off at her apartment with a tub of leftover popcorn and a loaf of coffee cake, I’ve lost the chill. Now, I’m anxious.
What does his non-reply mean? Does he regret being with me? Does he regret the fact that I’m here?
I have no idea, and I wish I did.
Picking my phone off the coffee table, I re-read Joanie’s text. The information about the rental is in front of me. The name of the landlord, the fair asking price, the fact that it’s available now—all of it is right there, waiting on my move.
But I don’t know what move to make.
I want to stay here, but I know I should go. It’s a tough call to make when I have no help in making it.
The door opens and shuts. Peck’s footsteps scoff against the floor. I hold my breath as I watch his shadow stretch across the doorway. Then, finally, after what feels like an eternity, his handsome face comes around the corner.
He stutter-steps as he walks by. His hand grabs the doorframe, and he stops.
A mix of emotions crosses his face as he looks at me sitting on the couch. I fidget, unsure of what to say.
“Heya, Dylan,” he says. Slowly, his face breaks into a smile.
Relief courses through my veins as he enters the room.
“How was your day?” I ask. Glancing at the clock, I see that it’s nearly dinner time.
He walks straight over to me with a dose of hesitation in his eyes. Leaning down, he holds my face in his hands and presses a kiss to my lips.
It takes me by surprise.
“Oh,” I say when he pulls back. “I wasn’t expecting that.”
His posture relaxes as he settles himself into an oversized leather chair.
In dark jeans and a blue button-up with the sleeves rolled to his elbows, he looks delicious. But his eyes still don’t quite share the same casual vibe as his dress.
“I’m sorry about today.” He clears his throat. “I missed church, which pissed Nana off. But I got up and got to her house before lunch.”
“That’s good.”
He nods. His chest rises as he sucks in a deep breath. “I’ll be honest here—I didn’t know whether to wake you up today or not. I just … my whole family was there, and they’re a lot to deal with and—”
“Peck. It’s fine.”
He lights up. “Really? Because I really thought I’d probably fucked up. And the longer I went and didn’t call you or text you, the worse I figured it was. But I just … I didn’t know what to do.”
I rearrange myself on the couch so my feet are on the floor. I tug a pillow onto my lap for a flimsy guard to my ego and heart.
“Nana asked about you,” he says. “She was kind of pissed you didn’t come.”
Well, I wasn’t asked.
“That’s nice,” I say. “I’m glad she likes me.”
“That’s for sure.”
He holds my gaze. I think he’s as unsure of what to say as I am. So I jump right in. Might as well.
“I get what last night was,” I say.
“You do?”
I nod. “And I don’t expect you to want to drag me in front of your family because we slept together. I’m a big girl, Peck. I didn’t read into it.” Ish.
“No. No, no, no,” he says. He moves to the edge of the chair. His elbows rest on his knees. “You’re wrong. That’s not it at all.”
My body stills as I take in the seriousness in his face. I’m afraid to reply—to say anything at all—in case I just misinterpreted that.
He blows out a breath and smiles. But it’s a gesture that’s not made to ease my mind, but a sign that he’s trying to get himself together.
“Let me ask you this,” he says. “Do you think yesterday changed anything between us?”
I consider his question. “Well, I know now that you can deliver an a-plus orgasm.”
He grins.
I grin too.
“I’m glad that we still have this,” he says, looking relieved. “I was afraid we’d messed this up somehow.”
“Me too.” I set the pillow to the side. “I’ve worried all day about it. And then you didn’t call and stuff and I—”
“That was my mistake. I’m sorry. I should’ve.” He clears his throat. “I just want you to know, without a doubt, that last night … well, it meant somethin
g to me. I don’t know what, exactly. I’m still a little confused, to be honest. But I … there’s … you know.”
I do know. I think. And it’s how I feel too. But hearing him admit that out loud, his voice so earnest, does something to me—something deep and powerful.
I smile and try not to blush.
“Thank you for saying that,” I say. “But you don’t owe me an explanation. You don’t owe me anything.”
He sits back in his chair again. “I believe that. I actually think you owe me at this point.”
“What?” I laugh.
“Well, I bought an expensive set of pots and pans because of you. I’m renting you a room in my house—and a bathroom. And you got off … four? Five times yesterday? You clearly are in debt to me.”
My shoulders fall as the tension that’s built all day melts away. “I don’t pay my debts. Just so you know.”
“Oh, thanks for telling me now.” He winks. “But seriously, I’m sorry if I made things weird today. It was just … a weird day.”
I nod, mulling that over. My gaze goes back to the television, and I act like I know what’s going on. Really, I just want a minute to decipher what he said.
It was just a weird day.
What does that mean?
“My brother announced today that he and Sawyer are moving home,” Peck says.
“That’s great. Are you happy?”
“Yeah. Sawyer is a cute little shit. I’m excited to get to show him the ropes.”
“You mean make him ornery?”
Peck laughs. “Oh, he’s already ornery. I had no part in that.”
I watch his face light up. He seems completely energized and over the moon about Vincent’s news. It makes my heart happy.
It’s not hard to imagine Peck running around with a little kid as a sidekick. The idea makes me grin.
“I bet you’re a great uncle,” I say.
“I hope I am. I didn’t really have that level of family growing up. I had Walker’s dad, but he was always working at the shop, so I didn’t see him much. And he was pretty standoffish when it came to things like life lessons. You just kind of knew what he expected … and also knew he’d stick a boot in your ass if you didn’t follow along.”
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