Page 61 of Dahlia Made A List

The sound of her voice knocked me out of my thoughts and I looked up to see her waving good-bye to another woman with a gear bag over her shoulder. Dahlia turned toward the truck, the smile slipping from her face as she came closer.

I shoved out from behind the wheel to meet her at the passenger side. I slid the heavy equipment bag off her shoulder and opened the door for her.

“Thanks,” she said as she climbed into the seat. “Didn’t you get bored sitting out here?”

I didn’t answer, closing her door and striding around the truck to haul my ass inside and get us moving again.

“They announced the assignments tonight.”

“Yeah?”

“They made me an alternate on the competitive team.”

The joy in her voice cascaded over me, a sweet ripple that washed away the brooding bitterness I’d sunk into. I flicked a quick glance at her. Her pretty pink lips parted in a wide smile and she practically vibrated with excitement. “Dahlia, you’re amazing. I’m so fuckin’ proud of you.”

She wiggled, scrunching her shoulders up like a little kid, then unleashed the chatter. All the way home, she relayed details about the other skaters, about the schedule they’d have with weekly practices and monthly bouts.

“I’m really going to need my license. No way I can bother someone for a ride all the way into Richland every week.”

I’d been driving her at least once a week now and the trip never felt even close to a bother. “Grams said you postponed your exam?”

“Yeah.” The enthusiasm from moments ago disappeared from her voice.

I thumped my thumb on the steering wheel. A quiet Dahlia did bad things to my insides.

“You’re ready for the test, Dahlia. Stop worrying and just take the damn thing.”

“I don’t feel ready. Just the idea makes me break out in hives, I swear.”

“‘Bout time you got legal.”

“I know, I know.”

I clenched the steering wheel until my knuckles turned white. I’d wrecked her confidence.

“I bought the fixin’s for the pork chops again. You know, the meal I’m thinking is going to be my Signature Dish? I want to practice making it again before the dinner party at Ms. Minerva’s place.”

I grunted an answer and focused on the road. Up on the mountain, I’d let my need for her take over. And in all the days since, I’d stayed away from any kind of commitment talk, but the truth was in my fuckin’ face now, wasn’t it? What was I even calling this thing between me and Dahlia? Nothing with a future, but not even being the kind of friend she needed.

What kind of friend wrecked a person’s confidence? What kind of friend let them waste time with an asshole, when what she wanted was to find a good guy? She thought she was improving herself, making herself into a person ready to share their life with someone. But the truth was she was already fuckin’ perfect and a man would be lucky to earn her love.

Love.

The word etched over my skin, prickly as a blackberry briar and twice as dangerous.

I pulled onto Redbud and angled the truck along the curb in front of the old two-story shotgun. The motion lights I’d installed blinked on, the stairs along the side illuminated in the dark of the night.

I fumbled with the door handle, grunting when my fingers finally landed right and I exited the truck. With her derby bag in hand, I trailed her up the stairs. I clenched my eyes closed against the sight of her sweet ass in the form-fitting leggings.

At the top, she opened the door and turned to me with a grin. “I’ll shower first, then get our dinner going, ‘kay?”

She needed someone steady. Someone whole. Someone who not only balanced out her chaos, but gave her the confidence to stretch. Not a man too dumb to read, too stubborn to learn, too broken to build her up.

I dropped her bag inside the open door, but didn’t step inside. “Can’t stay. Got something I need to take care of.”

She exhaled, long and slow, and the worry in her blue-gray eyes shined out at me. “Everything okay, Wy?”

I grunted.

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