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He smirks. “It’s a good mouth.” I roll my eyes, and Des continues, “Have dinner with me, Oak, for old times’ sake. We’re going to be seeing each other a lot more. We share a best friend. Maybe it’s time you stop giving me shit all the time.”
My eyes stretch wide, which just makes Des double over with laughter. “Me? That’s you. You’re the one who didn’t answer any of my texts, and then the next time we saw each other, all you did was antagonize me.”
That sobers him up quickly. I guess we’re doing this—talking about the thing neither of us has spoken about since walking away from each other on the beach that day.
Des sighs. “Have dinner with me.”
“Because that’s exactly what we need, people seeing the two of us together.”
“Are we not allowed to be friends?” There’s an unexpected edge of uncertainty in his voice. It’s one I’ve felt a million times when it comes to him, but I’ve never heard it from Des…maybe after the first time he kissed me, but that’s it.
“We are, but it’ll call unwanted attention to us that I don’t need right now.”
“Then come over to my place.” I must pull a face, because he says, “Not like that, Oak. You’re basically married. What kind of man do you think I am?”
Not the kind who would hook up with someone in a relationship. But what he doesn’t know is that I’m not in a relationship, not anymore. Still, going to Desmond’s house feels dangerous—like taking a risk where the result would twist me up even more. That’s more a me problem than him, though.
“You got the same number?” I ask. Well, fuck. There goes that. Clearly, my ass has no control when it comes to Desmond.
“Yeah.”
“Text me your address.”
He gives me a simple nod, then grabs a few more cones and walks away.
I have no idea what in the hell I’m doing, but apparently, I’m doing it anyway.
*
Desmond’s place is only a few miles from Hunter’s, set back down a long driveway, the front lawn decked out with palm trees and other greenery.
I park in the circular drive, my stomach riding a damn roller coaster in my body, filled with twists and drops that have me feeling all over the place.
Chill the fuck out, man. Why the hell are you trippin’?
I’m just going to eat some food, try to squash whatever weirdness there is between Des and me, and then get on with my life.
I get out of my SUV before I sit there second-guessing myself even more. Des probably isn’t even thinking twice about this, so I shouldn’t be either.
I ring the bell, and what feels like only about three seconds later, the door opens. “That was fast,” I say.
“I just happened to be walking by.”
Something about the tone of his voice tells me that’s not true. “You were waiting for me to get here.”
“Don’t flatter yourself.”
I grin. “You were.”
Desmond steps aside so I can come in. I showered and changed at the practice facility, but it looks like Desmond did the same, except at home. He’s wearing shorts and a black Inferno tank, a few droplets of water still on his arms.
“Just because I was in the shower, but worried I might have taken too long.”
“Sure.” I step inside, feeling more pleased about this development than I should. But then, maybe that means Des is as off-balance about me as I am about him.
“You thirsty?” he asks.
“Water’s good.”
