I looked over at Dex to see him glancing over at me. Whether he was shocked or amused, I had no clue. All I got was a bob of his head. “You have no idea, babe.”
I didn’t know Dex well, but I felt confident with what I told him next. I wasn’t trying to suck-up to him—why would I?—or make him feel better, but I thought he should know I didn’t believe his dad’s prophecy. “You’re nothing like that—like him—you know that, right?”
“I hope to God I’m not.”
“You’re not,” I confirmed. “You’re a good man, Dex.”
He shrugged, but I could tell he was thinking, processing. “I don’t ever wanna be half like him. Back then, I was out on bailfor some dumbass charges—," I wouldn't call assault a dumbass charge but I'd keep that thought to myself. "Hearin’ those words outtahis voice. Doomin’ me to repeat his miserable, drunk life? I swore right then I was never gonna be like him. I have his temper. I say stupid shit I don’t mean sometimes butthat’s it.”
I said the next few words without even thinking. “You’re not.” I looked at him. “At all.”
The silence after that was so crushing, it made me feel awkward. Heavy. Pressurized. I knew this chance was rare, so for some reason, I kept going. “What happened after that?”
“After Igot out ofcounty, I left Austin, went up toDallasfor a couple of years and sorted my shit out. When I was ready, I came back home.”
His version of the story was so short and perfectly cut out, I couldn't wrap my mind around it. He'd paid his penance, and then gotten out and tried to steer his life in a different direction. That was admirable.
Dex turned to look at me over his shoulder. He looked at me so long I shouldhave worried about him keeping his eyes on the road but there was no one there. “You think I’m an asshole, babe? Like really an asshole? Not just a grump or whatever the hell youcall it?”
He was being serious. So serious, so innately vulnerable right then that I felt something warm and heavy paint over my insides, warning me that this moment was something for Dex. Something that I had a feeling, an instinctual confirmation, he didn’t share with anyone.
“I think you do some asshole things,” I answered him honestly. “But I don’t think you’re really an asshole, Dex.”
Truth. Truth. Truth. This was the man who sat me on the counter after I’d been yelled at, bought me a coke and fed me bread. This was the same man who bitched at me for walking to my car alone. The same man who carried me to my bed. Dexter Locke was the man who didn’t give me a hard time about not drinking and kindly praised my attempt at a tattoo.
He had more points going in the opposite direction of the asshole-meter than he did going toward it.
“You’re actually probably one of the kindest people I’ve ever met when you aren’t—“
“Bein’ a dick?” he suggested in a low voice.
It was impossible not to smile. “I was going to say grumpy but that works too. The point is, you two are polar opposites. I’m pretty confident you wouldn’t treat your loved ones the way he did.”
He cocked his neck from one side to the other as if trying to stretch the muscles. A long huff escaped from his mouth. "I've always told myself that when I have kids, I'm gonna to spoil the shit out of 'em."
I couldn't help but smile, though I kept my gaze forward. Dex as a dad? A bad-mouthed dad?
Dex smiled right then, morphing something inside of me that I couldn't completely recognize. The moment and intent was too heavy for me to bear. I didn't want to think of what all this honesty was doing to my insides. "You know what?"
He grunted.
"Your kids will probably come out of the womb saying the f-bomb."
"Fuck," he laughed loudly, confirming my guess. "You're probably right, babe."
I tilted my face to look at him, meeting those blue eyes that I knew even without the light, were the brightest blue I'd ever seen. "Little f-bomb dropping hell raisers. I can totally see it."
Chapter Fifteen
Don't vomit.
Don't vomit.
Don't vomit.
Oh God, I was totally going to vomit.
You will not throw up, balk, or gag, I told myself.
