I pop another Skittle into my mouth and continue. “But the idea of being with Dan doesn’t feel weird. Shouldn’t it feel weird this soon? Or is it just because I’m ridiculously horny and haven’t had sex in months?” I end with a groan, shifting forward to drop my head into my hands. “Willow, I’m a mess. I don’t know what I want or what to do or say or anything. Help.”
“Alright, girlfriend, let’s figure this out.” Willow adopts her take-charge voice, the one that can corral a locker room full of jocks that need to do press interviews. “First of all, do you have feelings for Monty that go beyond friendship?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t let myself ever really consider that,” I answer quietly, still looking at my hands. “Maybe? Probably? I think I could.”
“We’ll take that as a yes for now. But I think you’re right to not move quickly. Monty’s a special kind of guy, and I don’t think he would want you to jump into anything right away, either. So really, nothing has to change. You’re still friends, it’s just that now you’re friends who are free to explore whether there’s something more. Just…” She trails off, and I look up.
“Just what?”
Willow looks torn. “I love you, you’re one of my closest friends. But I care about him, too. So I’m sorry, but I have to saythis, just know it doesn’t mean I’m picking sides or anything.”
I nod quickly. “Okay, what?”
“Be careful with his heart. We all know he’s a fun guy, friendly and outgoing and not afraid to be silly. But there’s more to him. You know that probably better than I do. His heart’s on the line just as much as yours is, so you have to be really clear and honest with each other about what’s going on. Which you can’t do unless you’re clear and honest with yourself. So figure out your feelings first, then go and talk to him. And maybe this time, hold off on the kissing until you’ve sorted out your headandyour heart.”
Chapter thirteen
Lark
For the second time in less than twelve hours, I find myself standing outside Dan’s apartment, nervous as heck. I lift my hand to knock and drop it back down at least three times. When my phone vibrates in my pocket, it startles me enough that I take a step back, grateful for the reprieve from the anxiety of what I’m about to do.
Until I read the message.
DAN: Are you planning on coming in any time soon, or should I go take a nap?
“Shit,” I mumble under my breath as his door opens, and the man in question is there, leaning against the door frame. With his arm over his head, his Mandalorian T-shirt has ridden up, revealing a sliver of skin above the waist of his jeans. My tongue darts out to moisten my lips, and of course, he catches me staring.
“Hey, Birdie.”
“Hi,” I whisper back, unable to stop staring at him. He looksdifferent, somehow. More confident, maybe? Or perhaps I’m just seeing him differently now that Baron’s not in my life.
Dan pushes off the door frame and takes a step back, inclining his head inside. “I just ordered some pizza, are you gonna stay for dinner?”
How he’s able to act so casual when I’m tied up in knots, I do not know. And honestly, it leaves me even more confused as to how he feels about what happened this morning. Not that I was expecting him to grab me and pin me against the door to ravish me — although I’m not sure I’d stop him if he did — but this nonchalance is disconcerting.
I walk past him, just like I did this morning, only this time, he catches my hand as I go by. Turning to face him, I take in the raw, vulnerable hope written on his face.
“You’re not gonna run away again this time, are you?” he asks quietly, and I shake my head. He squeezes my hand, giving me a small smile, then drops it to head into the kitchen. Opening the fridge, he pulls out two beers, a lager for him and a fruity ale for me. Cracking the tops, he moves to the glass sliding doors that lead to his large heated patio. I trail after him, finding some comfort in these familiar actions.
We’ve had pizza and beer on this patio many times. But this time, everything’s changed.
I take the beer he hands me and settle down on one of the lounge chairs. I expect him to take the other, but he doesn’t. Instead, he sets his beer down on the same table as mine and crouches down next to me.
“Promise you’re not gonna run, no matter what happens next?”
My head is already moving from side to side as I open my mouth to respond, but he doesn’t give me a chance to say a word.
His lips land on mine, soft and tentative at first, but quickly becoming more firm and sure. It’s a chaste kiss, sweet, even, but I feel it reverberate throughout my body, unlocking parts of me that were forced to stay quiet for too long.
He backs off too soon, and a whimper escapes me. But the look of pure satisfaction on Dan’s face soothes my disappointment.
“I’ve wanted to do that for years,” he says, his voice all gravelly and deep.
He straightens up and moves to the other chair, stretching out on it with a sigh. All I can do is watch him, shocked, curious, and more than a little turned on. But to my surprise, Dan leans back, closes his eyes, and just lies there with a smile.
“What —” I start to say, but he holds his hand up to stop me.
“Nope, we’re gonna talk, Birdie, but first, just give me a minute to soak this all in.”
