Troublemaker: Rascals: Book Five

by McCoy, Katie

  “Hayley Hayes! It is you!”

  I turned in my chair to see Amber Miller, one of my old sorority sisters, weaving through the restaurant towards our table. Behind her, I spotted several other sisters following, their husbands and boyfriends in tow.

  I immediately noticed Dante sit up straighter, the smile dropping away from his face.

  “Amber.” I rose and gave her an air kiss, doing the same for all the other girls coming to greet me.

  It had been a long time since I’d seen them last, and I could tell that they were all eager to catch up. Luckily, Dante and I had finished our dinner and they looked like they were all about to sit down to eat.

  “This is Dante,” I introduced him to the group, not sure if I should call him my date or my friend, so I just left it at his name.

  That, of course, led to a series of curious glances from my sorority friends. I could only imagine what they were seeing. Goody-two-shoes Hayley with a man who looked like sex on a stick.

  “It’s so funny to run into you,” Amber said. “Because we were just talking about how we are overdue for a girls’ night out.”

  “That sounds fun,” I said.

  “Right?” she asked brightly. “Of course, it’s always so hard to get everyone together now that most of us are married.”

  She not so subtly pushed her hair back, making sure to show off her giant diamond ring, while glancing down at my own ring-less finger.

  “I’m sure we can figure something out,” I told her, doing my best to ignore the dig.

  “Are you going to the benefit next weekend?” Amber asked.

  “I think so,” I answered, not sure which benefit she was talking about. I had been to one that our friend Gabi hosted at the Chicago Public library a few months ago, but there were always events and benefits to attend when you traveled in the kind of circles my parents and their friends traveled in.

  To be honest, I was getting a bit tired of all of it. I wanted to help support charities but I couldn’t help wondering if there were better ways to do it than getting dressed up and bidding on expensive items that I usually gave away as gifts later.

  Thankfully, the waitress came over at that moment to take Amber and her party to their table. She gave me another air kiss.

  “We must play tennis at the club when the weather is better,” she said, before glancing over at Dante. “Doubles perhaps?”

  “I’ll bring my racket,” he said dryly.

  “Marvelous,” Amber said with a bright, fake smile.

  I let out a breath the moment they were out of sight.

  “Sorry about that,” I said.

  “It’s fine,” Dante said, but I could tell it wasn’t.

  His entire demeanor had shifted—before they had come over, I really felt like he was starting to relax, starting to open up. Now it was like before—completely shut off and impenetrable. Dammit.

  “They didn’t mean to interrupt,” I said, hoping he wouldn’t hold their rudeness against me.

  He just shrugged.

  “They’re your friends,” he said.

  “Not really,” I countered. “I haven’t seen them in a while.”

  But he didn’t respond, and we paid and left, both of us quiet. The silence continued in the car, all the way back to my apartment.

  Now, however, the silence took on a different feel. It was tense, and I could feel that tension radiating from Dante as well. What was he thinking? What was he feeling? I could still remember the passion in his kisses. The way he had held me. The way he had touched me. I wanted that and more.

  Would he walk me to my door? Would he come up if I invited him to? Did I want to invite him up?

  I looked at his strong profile.

  Oh, yes. Yes, I did want to invite him up. I wanted to invite him to do a lot of things.

  By the time we pulled up to my apartment, I was practically squirming with the built-up sexual tension. I wanted him to kiss me. I wanted him to touch me. I wanted him to do everything with me.

  He parked the car and shut off the engine. I held my breath as he turned towards me.

  “I had a good time,” he said, his voice quiet.

  I heard my heartbeat in my ears as he leaned towards me. My eyes fluttered closed as I felt his breath against my skin. I could feel the heat from his body as he moved closer. Then . . .

  He kissed my cheek.

  “Have a good night,” he said, and then he reached behind me to open my door for me.

  Stunned, I climbed out of the car, not sure what had just happened. Was he giving me the brush-off? Why? We’d had a good time, hadn’t we? And the chemistry was there—that was undeniable. So what was he doing?

  I fumbled a little with my keys, but when I got into the lobby of my apartment and turned to wave goodbye, he was already pulling away from the curb. I stood there, and it wasn’t until he was out of sight that I realized I was still wearing his jacket.

  10

  Hayley

  It had been a week since our date, and Dante had gone MIA again. He was avoiding Rascals. He was avoiding me. There had been no texts, no phone calls, no nothing since dinner. I was confused and hurt and didn’t know what to do. I had to talk to someone, and Juliet was the only person I trusted not to turn around and immediately blab to my brother.

  We had started going to a ballet workout class, so after our usual class, I invited her out for brunch, hoping that she would give me the kind of advice I desperately needed.

  “I need help,” I said, not even able to wait until our pancakes were delivered.

  Juliet looked surprised for a moment but recovered quickly. “I’m your girl,” she said. “What can I do?”

  “I need advice,” I told her. “About men. About one man in particular.”

  She leaned forward. “Do I know this man?”

  I hesitated. Telling someone, saying it out loud, would make it real. Would be confessing to one of many secrets I seemed to be keeping these days. But I trusted Juliet.

  “It’s Dante,” I said.

  She bit her lip as if she was trying to hold back a smile.

  “Uh-huh,” she said.

  I was confused by her reaction. “What?” I asked.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, reaching out and patting my hand. “But from the first day I saw you guys together, I totally suspected that there was something between you.”

  “You did?” I was baffled.

  All Dante and I usually did when we were together was fight. As far as I was concerned, all of these feelings and thoughts were totally new. But maybe my general annoyance and frustration with Dante had masked them. I had always found him attractive, but who didn’t? He was gorgeous.

  “You guys are always staring at each other,” Juliet said, taking a sip of the mimosa that was just delivered to the table.

  “We are not,” I argued.

  Juliet just smiled. “What’s the problem, exactly?”

  I sighed and took a long drink.

  “He kissed me,” I finally blurted out.

  “Whoa.” Juliet leaned back. “Nice work, Dante.”

  “Not exactly.” I rubbed my temples. “He kissed me and then nothing. He ignored me for weeks and then, I get a flat tire and call Emerson to get a ride, but Dante shows up.”

  Juliet’s eyes widened eagerly. “And then?”

  “Then I kissed him,” I said, putting my head in my hands.

  “Oh.” Juliet sounded disappointed. “Is he a bad kisser?”

  “No! He’s a great kisser!” I said quickly and loudly. Too loudly. Half the restaurant turned to stare at us. I slid down in my chair, embarrassed.

  “A great kisser, huh?” Juliet looked way too amused.

  “Let’s just say the problem isn’t the kissing.” I downed the rest of my mimosa and was grateful when the waitress immediately came and replaced my empty glass with a full one. “I asked him out on a date.”

  “I’m impressed,” Juliet said. “Good job, you.” She paused. “
Did you already have the date?”

  I nodded. “It was last night,” I told her and then filled her in on the details, leaving out the part about being in a band, because I still wanted to keep that between myself and Dante. But I told Juliet about going to dinner and running into my former sorority sisters and the way the evening had ended.

  “A kiss on the cheek!” I finished. “That’s what my good night kiss was. A chaste peck on the cheek.” I put my head down on the table. “What am I doing wrong?”

  Juliet patted my arm comfortingly.

  “I don’t know, honey,” she said. “I don’t really know Dante that well. What is his dating style usually like? Does he like to take things slow?”

  “He’s never introduced any of us to the girls he goes out with,” I said, my voice muffled against the table. “I don’t think he has a dating style. I think he’s a one-night stand kind of guy.”

  “And you’re OK with that? With possibly being a one-night stand?”

  I lifted my head. Juliet sat across from me, looking concerned. Like I was someone who needed to be protected. I knew that Juliet was just being a good friend, but I was tired of being treated like this fragile, breakable thing. I was a grown woman and I had needs. Needs that weren’t delicate.

  “There’s something there,” I told Juliet. “Chemistry, attraction, whatever you want to call it, but it’s there. And I don’t want to ignore it.”

  Juliet nodded. “I understand, but I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

  “I won’t,” I said. “Besides, he was starting to open up to me.” I didn’t say much more because that too was something I wanted to keep between me and Dante. Another secret we shared.

  “Sometimes you have to force the issue,” Juliet finally said. “Dante seems like a guy who doesn’t like it when things are complicated, and whatever is happening between the two of you is complicated, and you know it.”

  I nodded. “But it doesn’t have to be,” I argued. “Because the reason it might get complicated is because the guys are so freaking protective of me. But they don’t have to know.”

  Juliet looked torn. “I won’t tell Sawyer about this, but I don’t think secrets are a good plan long term,” she said. “For you or Dante.”

  “Maybe it’s just something we need to get out of our systems,” I countered. “Maybe I haven’t been a one-night stand girl in the past, but things could be different with Dante.”

  But even as I said it out loud, I knew it was a lie. I wasn’t a one-night stand kind of girl, but I also had a pretty good feeling that whatever was happening between Dante and me wasn’t going to burn out after one night. It might just be physical, but there was a lot of tension there that needed to be dealt with.

  And I was tired of pretending it wasn’t there. Juliet was right. Dante didn’t like when things were complicated. Well, too bad, because he was the one that complicated things the moment he shoved his tongue down my throat.

  I left brunch feeling a little buzzed and a lot motivated to find Dante and confront him about what had happened the other night. There was no way in hell he usually ended his night with a woman with a kiss on the cheek. I was owed a good, sexy kiss—and maybe more—and I was going to get it.

  So I went to his gym.

  Unfortunately, when I arrived, I discovered I wasn’t the only person visiting Dante. My brother was there as well.

  Talk about a lady boner killer.

  “Hey!” Emerson gave me a hug and a confused look. “What are you doing here?”

  I bristled a little at the inclination that I needed a reason to be anywhere, but I also understood the reason Emerson was asking. Dante and I didn’t hang out. At least, not just the two of us.

  I caught a glimpse of Dante over Emerson’s shoulder. He had clearly just finished working out and he was all sweaty and glistening and hot as fuck. The way his shirt clung to all of his muscles and the snug fit of his shorts, well, it was quickly getting very warm in here. It was also hard to ignore the way Dante himself refused to look at me. He was uncomfortable. Nervous, even.

  Good. I could use that.

  I would show him exactly what happened when a guy like him ignored a girl like me. He thought I’d back down at a challenge? Ha. Not a chance.

  “I was actually thinking of asking Dante for self-defense lessons,” I said, the idea popping into my head.

  “What?” Dante asked, at the same time my brother said:

  “That’s a great idea.”

  “What?” Dante asked again, this time directing it at my brother.

  “What do you mean, what?” Emerson asked. “It’s a great idea. I was worried sick when you called about the flat tire . . .”

  “Yet not worried enough to pick her up yourself,” Dante said dryly.

  Emerson ignored him. “And Chicago can be a dangerous place. Hayley would really benefit from some self-defense lessons.”

  “I’m standing right here,” I reminded my brother. “And it was my idea.”

  “And what a great idea it was,” Emerson said, slinging his arm around my shoulders.

  He had been working out as well, but since he was my brother and therefore his sweat was gross, I shrugged him off quickly.

  “She can sign up for a class somewhere else,” Dante said. “Somewhere better equipped to teach her what she needs to know.”

  “Come on, man,” Emerson laughed. “You’re really not going to train her? You’re going to send her to someone else?”

  Dante folded his arms across that impressive chest of his.

  “It’s just not for her,” he said, continuing to avoid eye contact with me. “What we do here.”

  “Her is still standing right here,” I pointed out, hating the way they were talking about me as if I wasn’t there. “And I’m pretty sure I’m the only one who can decide if something is for me or not.”

  I lifted my chin stubbornly, and Emerson laughed.

  “Yeah, good luck trying to say no,” he told Dante.

  Finally, Dante lifted his gaze and met mine. The look he gave me was dark and intense and full of promise. Promises I wanted him to keep.

  Emerson was still talking. “When Hayley wants something, she’ll stop at nothing to get it,” he said.

  “Oh, I know,” Dante said, his eyes still on me. “I know.”

  Emerson finished up his workout and cleared out, obviously excited to go see Alex. Sometimes the two of them were so lovey-dovey that it made me sick, but I was pretty sure I was sick with wistful jealousy more than anything.

  He left, and it was just me and Dante. Alone.

  “So, do you really want to do this?” Dante asked, looking like he hoped the answer was no.

  But I wasn’t giving up so quickly.

  “I’m a good student,” I told him brightly, pretending I couldn’t take a hint. “I pick things up really quickly.”

  He just gave me a curt nod, drying his face and neck off with a towel. Still, he missed a line of sweat sliding down the side of his throat. I desperately wanted to put my tongue there and taste the salt of him. Taste all of him.

  Being near him like this was torture, but I could only hope it was mutually assured torture because I was tired of acting like things were fine and normal between us. They weren’t. We needed to deal with this out-of-control sexual tension before it destroyed me.

  “So.” I bounced a little on my toes. “What’s my first lesson, Coach?”

  Dante frowned at me. “When I said I don’t teach self-defense, I meant it.”

  “Then teach me how to hit someone,” I suggested.

  He let out a deep, long suffering sigh. “Fine,” he finally said, watching me warily. “But let’s start with some cardio first to warm you up.”

  He put me on the bike. For twenty minutes. All the while, he was avoiding me, standing on the other side of the room, keeping as much space between us as possible. When the twenty minutes were up, he put me on the treadmill next. Another twenty minutes. By the time I
was done, I was out of breath and sweating like a messy wreck.

  No doubt I looked ridiculous.

  This plan was backfiring and it was backfiring quick.

  “Enough cardio,” I said before he could put me on another machine. “Trust me, I’m warmed up enough.”

  He looked at me. “Twenty sit-ups and twenty push-ups,” he ordered.

  My mouth dropped open. “Are you kidding me?”

  He shrugged. “This is the way I teach. If you have a problem with it, you can leave.”

  I narrowed my eyes at him. So that’s how he was going to play it. Fine. I wasn’t going to back down. Not a chance.

  The sit-ups were fine, but the push-ups were damn near impossible. I managed two and a half before I collapsed on the mat, my face against the well-worn plastic.

  “You need to work on your upper body strength,” Dante told me, leaning against the wall, his arms folded.

  I just glared at him.

  “Do you want me to tell Emerson what you’re doing?” I asked, knowing it was a low blow. “I’m sure he’ll be super happy with how you’re jerking me around.”

  Dante gave a casual shrug, but pushed off from the wall and came towards me.

  “Fine,” he said. “Let’s see your moves.”

  Then, without warning, he reached out and grabbed my arm. It wasn’t a hard grab and it didn’t hurt, but it was firm. I gave a tentative pull but he held fast.

  “How are you going to get away?” he asked.

  I jerked my arm fast, but ended up just hurting myself struggling against his grip. I tried again, trying to twist away, but instead of extracting myself, I found my back pressed up against Dante’s front.

  Now we were getting somewhere.

  But he froze and immediately let go of me.

  “Not fair,” I told him, spinning to face him. “That’s not what would happen if someone grabbed me.”

  “The trick is to make sure they never get the chance,” he said, taking a step back. “You always need to be on the alert.” He reached out again, but this time I dodged him. “Good,” he said, approvingly.

  I felt a swell of pride in my chest. It wasn’t much but getting Dante’s approval seemed to mean the world these days, so I was going to soak it up as best I could.