by McCoy, Katie
Feeling confident and powerful after my talk with Alex, I headed to the gym where Dante usually spent his free time. But he wasn’t there. I wracked my brain for an idea of where he might be—I knew he wasn’t at Rascals and I didn’t want to just show up at his home. I hadn’t reached that level of desperation. Then, I remembered the other place I had followed him to. The community gym space in dire need of some renovations. He seemed to know his way around, so maybe he spent time there often.
I went there.
When I knocked, I could hear the sound echoing through the large building and for a moment I thought no one was there. I was about to call Dante and just demand to know where he was when I heard slow, shuffling footsteps coming towards the door. Definitely not Dante, but maybe someone who would know where he was.
When the door opened, an older man peered out. He had a neatly trimmed gray beard and mustache, while the top of his slightly misshapen head was completely bald. He looked at me, taking a long time to take in my nice—and expensive—blue coat and designer boots. I could tell what he was thinking before he finished looking. I didn’t belong there.
But still, he smiled at me. “How can I help you?” he asked in a voice made raw by what I assumed was either age or smoking or both.
“I’m looking for Dante,” I said. “I’m Hayley. A friend of his.”
“Hayley,” he said, a flicker of recognition going through his pale blue eyes.
Had Dante spoken about me to others? The thought thrilled me.
“I’m Bull,” he said. “I own the gym.” He looked down at my bare hands. “Come on in, we can’t have you standing out here freezing.”
I followed him into the gym, taking in the well-worn chairs lining the wall. The place looked like it was on its last legs, but it had a nice, homey feel to it that warmed me up just as fast as the heater blasting in the corner did.
“Do you expect Dante here at all today?” I asked, taking off my jacket.
Bull shrugged. “He comes and goes,” he said. “Been here more and more these days—hovering over me like a mother hen.”
I laughed, trying to imagine Dante mothering anyone.
There was a boxing ring in the center of the room and a wall of photos just behind it. Unable to help myself, I went over and it wasn’t long before I found a familiar face looking back at me.
It was Dante, when he was probably all of twelve years old. He still had that wary scowl on his face, even then, but while I was used to seeing it on him as an adult, it was heartbreaking to see that on a kid. Like he’d never had any reason to smile, even when he was younger.
I kept scanning the wall and I found another one of him. This one was more recent, and it wasn’t a portrait like the other one had been. It was an action shot, of Dante kneeling next to a kid almost as old as he had been in that picture. The kid was wearing gloves that looked almost comically large on him, and Dante had his hand on his shoulder, clearly coaching him.
The difference, though, was the expression on Dante’s face.
It was a smile. But it wasn’t like the smile he had given the blonde in the bar on New Year’s and it wasn’t like the rare smiles he gave Emerson and the other guys. No, this was a real smile. It was small and private but the pride in Dante’s face nearly knocked me back on my ass.
God, he was gorgeous. Even scowling he was one of the most beautiful men I’d ever seen, but if he ever smiled at me like he was smiling at that kid, I would have melted into a puddle at his feet.
“He’s been coming here for a while, huh?” I commented as Bull shuffled over to join me at the wall of photos.
Bull nodded. “One of my best students.”
I raised an eyebrow, a little surprised.
Bull noticed and gave me a smile. “Not at first, of course. At first, he was a royal pain in my ass. Just stood there with the stubborn look on his face as if he was waiting for me to give up on him.”
“But you didn’t.” I wanted to put my hand against the photo of Dante smiling, as if I could somehow touch him that way.
“Not a chance,” Bull said. “I’ve dealt with troubled kids my entire life. I know what they need, and it’s someone to give a shit about them. I’m not the warmest or nicest guy, but I care. And they know that. When Dante figured that out—realized I wasn’t going to kick him out for being a little shit—things changed.”
I could easily imagine Dante as a kid—all the toughness and sullenness dialed up to eleven. It gave me a soft ache in my heart for the kind of experiences that made him into that kind of kid, and also the man he was today.
But clearly, this gym had a lot of influence on who he was now.
“So he still works out here?” I asked.
Bull nodded. “Mostly helps with the other kids—coaching and mentoring them. A lot of them are coming from similar situations, so it helps them to see someone who made it out.”
I wanted to know more, but I also knew not to pry. Dante was a private person and he would probably hate that I was here talking to Bull in the first place. But if he wasn’t so freaking hard to get a hold of, I wouldn’t have had to track him down like this.
“I bet he’s a great coach,” I said.
“He is,” Bull said emphatically. “This place has tried to do some good for the kids in the neighborhood, which is why it’s such a shame that we’ll have to close.”
“Close?” I asked. “Why?”
But I didn’t get my answer, because I heard the door to the gym opening and slamming shut, followed by a familiar voice.
“Bull, you old bastard,” Dante called out. “I’ve told you a thousand times that you have to keep the front door locked when you’re the only one—”
His voice trailed off as he appeared out of the hallway and spotted me.
“Hayley,” he said, his voice flat. “What are you doing here?”
He was obviously displeased to see me here. I didn’t care. Because he looked good. Really, really good. He had already pulled off his jacket, so his well-muscled arms were prominently on display, looking even more impressive as he folded them over his broad chest.
“She came looking for you,” Bull commented. “I was just showing her around. Telling her all you’ve done for the gym.”
Dante shot his mentor a look, as if he was annoyed that anyone might say anything nice about him to me.
“Don’t,” he said, shooting me a look.
“Don’t what?” I wanted to know.
“Don’t think that because I coach neighborhood kids that I’m some sort of hero or saint,” he commented.
I laughed. “Trust me, nothing you do would ever convince me you’re any kind of saint.”
He didn’t even crack a smile.
“What are you doing here?” he asked me again.
I took a breath.
“Asking you out,” I said.
He looked like I had slapped him.
“What?” he asked.
I stepped towards him. “Asking you out,” I repeated before pulling out a piece of paper from my purse. “On a date.” I quickly wrote down a time and address. Then I walked up to Dante and slapped it against his chest. “Be there tomorrow night.”
I heard Bull let out a low whistle of what I hoped was approval.
Then, my knees shaking a little from my own bravery, I leaned forward and planted a kiss on Dante’s cheek.
“See you then,” I said, and without another look at him, turned and walked out of the gym.
9
Hayley
The following night I stood backstage, my entire body vibrating with a combination of nerves and excitement. The band was prepping for our slot in the showcase and I was getting more and more anxious the closer it got to showtime.
It didn’t help that I still didn’t know if Dante would show. I also didn’t know if I wanted him to show.
The whole thing had been a ridiculous idea. Why had I invited him to the showcase as our first date? Asking him out had been nerve-wrackin
g enough—singing in front of a crowd for the first time only amplified the vulnerability I felt.
But I wanted to surprise him. And I wanted him to see me, too. Not just as Emerson’s little sister, but as someone with a life of my own.
“You ready?” Kara asked, putting a hand on my shoulder.
I gave her a shaky nod, hoping I looked more confident than I felt. After all, the rest of the band had been playing together for a while, and all of them had experience performing in front of a crowd. I was the only one who was a complete newbie, and yet, I was going to be front and center.
Smoothing down the front of my short black skirt, I wondered for the fiftieth time if I should have worn something . . . a little more rock and roll. It was all black and it was definitely not something that would have been appropriate at any of the fundraisers or events that I usually went to, but it was still pretty conservative compared to what some of the other performers had been wearing. Especially the lead singers. There were a lot of leather pants and shirts that were attached by a few thin cords wrapping around the back.
I looked down at my cute leather booties, wishing for a moment that I was the kind of girl that could rock a head-to-toe leather look. Unfortunately, I was definitely not that kind of girl.
At least I had worn a low-cut shirt that showed off my boobs. That was as rock and roll as I felt I could get this first time out.
“And now, let’s welcome to the stage: Purple Sunday!” the host thundered.
I felt like I was going to throw up.
But I kept it together and pasted a big smile on my face before walking out onto the stage with my bandmates. The venue was packed, and I could already tell that the audience was waiting to be impressed. So far, none of the bands had been good enough to draw more than a pleasant smattering of applause, but luckily they hadn’t been bad enough to get booed. I hoped we weren’t going to be the first to bomb tonight.
As I stepped to the microphone, I took a deep breath and looked out into the crowd. And saw Dante walking into the club. He was looking around for me. Everywhere but the stage.
“Hello,” I said into the microphone.
His head turned towards the stage, and when he saw me, his eyes widened.
“We’re Purple Sunday,” I said, confidence building inside of me at the sight of Dante.
For whatever reason, his presence calmed me. Made me feel like I was capable of anything.
Behind me, Freddie started playing the opening chords of our newest song, and I started humming along, my eyes closed. I lost myself in the music and the rhythm and when the rest of the band joined in, I was ready.
I barely remembered the rest of the set. It was only three songs but it felt like I was up there forever, soaking in the energy of the crowd and giving myself up to the music. People began swaying and dancing to the music. When we finished, it was to a thunderous applause.
“Thank you!” I said, my heart racing with a thrill I’d never experienced before. “Thank you so much!”
We all left the stage and immediately fell into a giant group hug.
“That was fucking amazing!” Maddie cried. “Holy shit.”
“They loved us,” Kara nodded.
“They loved your songs,” Dylan told her, swinging her into his arms for a kiss.
“You really brought it home,” Freddie told me.
I flushed with pride.
“You were the missing piece,” Kara said, giving me a hug. “It was so amazing! You were great.”
I could have walked on air. Then I remembered that Dante was out there, probably waiting for me. Probably full of questions.
“I saw a friend in the audience,” I told my bandmates. “I’m going to go say hi.”
They were all still basking in the glory of a great set as I headed out into the crowd, searching for Dante. He hadn’t moved from the back of the room where he had watched our set. His eyes were still focused on the stage, so for a moment I didn’t think he noticed that I had made my way to his side.
I should have known better.
“You were great,” he said, before I could even open my mouth.
He didn’t look at me—how he had heard me coming in a crowded club was beyond me, but then again, that was Dante. Full of mystery.
“Thank you,” I said, feeling a little self-conscious now.
He glanced over at me, his eyes meeting mine.
“Really great,” he said, and I could tell that he was sincere.
It meant more than I could have imagined.
“It was my first time performing with them,” I confessed, my heart still racing. From performing or having Dante so close, I wasn’t sure.
“It didn’t seem that way,” he said before turning to face me, his full attention directed at me. “You’re a natural.”
I blushed. I couldn’t help it.
“Where’s the rest of the gang?” he asked, glancing around.
I bit my lip. “I didn’t invite them,” I said. “Just you.”
If he was surprised at that, his face didn’t show it.
“It’s still so new and I didn’t know how Emerson and everyone else would react, so I decided to keep it a secret for a while,” I told him.
“You told me,” he said.
“Because I figured that you know how to keep secrets,” I said with a shrug.
That was only part of the reason, though. I wanted to share this with him. I wanted it to be our secret.
He just nodded.
It was then that I realized, while Dante was still wearing his usual head-to-toe black clothes, they were nicer than his usual T-shirt and jeans. He was wearing black slacks and a black button-up shirt. Like normal Dante, but a little fancier. Like date Dante.
I got a thrill at that. This was Dante on a date.
“You look nice,” I told him.
“Thanks,” he said, this time not looking at me.
Instead, he was looking at the floor. Almost as if he was nervous.
The thought gave me another thrill. I was making him nervous!
Just then, another band took to the stage. Within a few minutes, I was already cringing at their lead singer’s inability to hit a note and the drummer’s difficulty at staying on beat.
“Want to get out of here?” I asked, leaning towards Dante so he could hear me.
He nodded and we headed out into the cold, fresh air. He draped his jacket over my shoulders without a word. “There’s a place closer to the Loop that we could go to,” he suggested.
I nodded as he led me to his car. The ride was short but we didn’t say much to each other. I wondered if he was thinking about the last time we had been together in the car—when I had kissed him. Was he thinking about the kiss the way that I was? Was he playing it over and over again in his head?
A glance over at his profile revealed nothing, as he kept his gaze focused forward.
We got to the restaurant and I was surprised. It was a cozy little French spot, and way nicer than I had expected. Not the kind of place that I assumed Dante would want to go. We got a table and ordered. Then it was just the two of us. On a date. Together.
“Thanks for coming tonight,” I said, fiddling with my napkin.
It was weird—Dante and I had known each other for years. But we had fought and bickered for most of those years, and when it came to just having a normal conversation, I felt like I was in uncharted waters.
“Yeah, well, thanks for inviting me,” he said.
“Bet Bull would have given you a lot of shit if you didn’t show,” I joked.
Dante rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah,” he said. “But I wanted to come.”
He looked almost guilty about it. I shouldn’t have found it cute, but I did.
“I liked him,” I said, talking about Bull.
“Yeah, he’s a great guy,” he agreed. “That gym . . .”
He paused, clearly not sure how much he wanted to share with me. I didn’t say anything, just waited. Listened.
>
“It saved my life, basically,” he finally said. “Bull was a big part of that.”
“He said that it’s closing down,” I said softly.
Dante shook his head. “Not if I have anything to do about it.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, as our food arrived.
Dante paused, looking reluctant. “I’m going to buy it,” he said. “I’ve almost got enough money.”
A lightbulb went off in my head.
“Is that why you’re running the poker game?” I asked.
Dante nodded. “Maybe one more good night like that and I’ll be ready to make an offer.”
“That’s amazing, Dante,” I told him, feeling a swell of pride. “It’s obvious that gym means a lot to the neighborhood and the kids there, and I know they’ll all be happy to hear that it’s staying open.”
“It’s just a gym,” he said, clearly trying to downplay the whole thing.
“But it’s not,” I said passionately. “I’m so sick and tired of people acting like the things they do don’t matter. Or that they don’t care. You care. You obviously care and you should. Like you said, that place practically saved your life. Don’t you think it’s the same for the kids that go there now? It must mean so much to them to have a place to go where they feel safe and are encouraged by people like you and Bull. You’re an amazing role model for them.”
I finished and realized that Dante had just been staring at me the entire time, his silverware hovering over his plate as he listened to me ramble on and on.
“What?” I snapped at him, feeling weirdly vulnerable after that speech.
“Nothing,” he said, giving me that half smile I loved.
“I’m not going to apologize for caring,” I said.
“You shouldn’t,” he told me. “You should never apologize for that.”
Our eyes met and there was something there. Something deeper than lust. Something like understanding. Kinship. But before I could do anything about it, a familiar voice interrupted our quiet, private bubble.