Page 56 of Duress
Dane is coming over for dinner tonight. It’s the first time I’ve invited him to my house. He’s only made it to the front porch so far, only because he insists on walking Uly and me home after game night. We’ve been taking it slow the last several weeks, getting reacquainted with one another in a slow, careful, non-trauma bonded way. We’ve been attending game nights together, letting a new friendship bloom with the buffer of our friends there to help maintain the boundaries I’ve been hesitant to dissolve.
Dane has followed my lead and allowed me to set the pace for how things progress between us. Game nights,hikes with Uly, meeting for coffee before work. Casual, no pressure situations that allow me to slowly filter through the feelings I have been harboring for Dane, trying to suss out if they are real or simply a result of my desperate need to be loved and cherished by someone.
Therapy has done wonders for my abandonment and daddy issues, and I have decided that yes, they are real. Everything I feel for Dane, every spike in my heart rate, every breath of air that gets sucked from my lungs when seeing him, every blush that creeps up my cheeks when I catch him staring at me like I’m the brightest star in the sky…it’s all real. And tonight is supposed to be the night I tell him that. Tell him that I want more. Tell him that he doesn’t have to keep waiting.
I’m terrified that maybe I’ve made him wait too long and that maybe I’ve misread everything and he really is just my friend, but I won’t let that fear hold me back from speaking my truth to him. I’m done letting the fear of chasing after my own happiness hold me back from living my life. After almost two decades of living the life Bryce wanted for us, I’m living for myself now.
More clattering comes from the kitchen, and I realize with horror that Uly must have gone counter surfing. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” I grab a washcloth, run cold water over it and press it to my face as I rush out of the bathroom to see the damage.
I find Uly happily slurping up the remnants of the pasta salad I made to go with dinner. He’s so engrossed in finishing the job he doesn’t even look up when I let out a frustrated yell. “Uly! No! Bad dog!” My heart plummetswhen a knock at the door comes, announcing Dane’s arrival. “Ugh.” I let out a frustrated groan at the situation, hoping Dane won’t mind that dinner is missing half its main course.
I shoot one last reproachful glare at Uly as I mutter under my breath, “That’s it. You’re going to doggy bootcamp buddy. I’m signing you up tomorrow.” Uly finally looks up at me, his tongue busily licking the dressing from the pasta salad that is still stuck to his fur. “You better hope nothing in that will make you sick. If I have to clean up doggy diarrhea tonight, you won’t get any treats for a week.” Another knock at the door causes Uly’s ears to perk up, and he lets out a lowwoofbefore running to the front door to investigate our visitor.
When I pull open the door, Uly shoves past me, jumping up to greet Dane first. Dane laughs as he’s forced back a step by the not-at-all miniature Bernedoodle.
“Hey there, big fella, yes, I missed you too.”
My heart melts a little watching Dane with Uly, quickly causing my frustration with the muppet dog to dissipate.
“Down!” He barks out a sharp command, and Uly drops to his haunches instantly, the pup sitting at attention, staring up at Dane like he hung the moon.
“Why does he listen to you? It’s not fair!”
The smile on Dane’s face falls quickly when he finally moves his attention from the traitorous, date-ruining dog to my face. I must look like a mess, standing there half dressed, wet, dripping wash-cloth pressed to my face, effectively ruining my makeup. His expression quickly shifts to concern.
“Are you okay? What happened?” He pushes past the devil dog and cups my face in his warm hands, his eyes tracing over me with frantic concern that has me melting into his touch.
“I’m okay. I was in the bathroom finishing up my makeup whensomeone”—I cut an annoyed glare at the betrayer who is skulking off to his doggy bed by the couch—“decided he wanted to try the pasta salad I had prepared. The sound startled me, and I stabbed myself in the eye with a mascara wand.” I pull away the washcloth and show Dane my raccoon eye. He presses his lips into a tight line, biting back a smile.
“It’s fine; you can laugh. I know I look ridiculous.” Dane just shakes his head and pulls me into a hug, tucking my head under his chin. My arms wrap around his waist, my body molding to his like two puzzle pieces meant to fit together. This is the closest we’ve been since the day I told him I needed time, and a dulcet feeling of felicitousness settles over me as I let myself settle into the embrace.
When we break apart, he presses a kiss to the top of my head. “Go fix your face, Krusty, I’ll have a talk with your unruly son.”
My eyes narrow in a playful glare at the jab.
“Watch it, mister, or I’ll revoke your invitation for dinner.” A wicked grin causes Dane’s lips to curl up.
“That’s fine by me. I’m okay with skipping straight to dessert.” I’m caught off guard when he steps into me again and brushes my lips with his in a delicate tease of a kiss. I catch myself chasing after his mouth, desperate for more than just the hint he gave me, as he pulls away.
The air between us is charged. Electric. I’m torn between following my original plan of pouring my heart out to him over a homemade dinner, and sayingfuck itand dragging him by his collar into my bedroom so he can make love to me. My need for him is suddenly so all-consuming and desperate, it’s discombobulating. Nodding, I take a reluctant step back, my body fighting every step, like he’s a magnet and I can’t help but be drawn to him. He shoos me away with a wink, and I retreat to the bathroom to wash the ruined makeup off.
In the bathroom, I stare at my reflection in the mirror. Face now clean from all traces of makeup, my left eye only slightly red and angry looking. I glance at the dress hanging from the hook on the door that I had planned on wearing, then back at the threadbare T-shirt and tiny boy shorts I have on. Tonight was supposed to be special. I was going to light candles and pour wine. I was going to dress up, play soft music, and confess that I love him. That I never stopped loving him. I wanted tonight to be the beginning of our new forever, and I wanted to make it memorable.
The sound of pans clattering and the refrigerator door opening and closing pulls me from my rumination, and I wander back out into the main part of my small but homey 1920s craftsman to find Dane in the kitchen, his face pinched in concentration as he carefully butters bread and tops it with cheese before putting it in a pan. A tea towel is draped over one shoulder, the cuffs of the white linen shirt he’s wearing rolled up, exposing his forearms, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen a more attractive sight in my life.
I can’t help it. I stand there, silently taking it all in. How perfect he looks in my kitchen. How at home he is, here in my space. Howrightthis feels. I notice an open bottle of beer on the island, waiting for me, as he finally notices me and beckons me over with a tilt of his head. All of my carefully constructed plans for a romantic date night melt away as I realize that this is so perfectly us. I forget about the dress. I forget about the steaks sitting in the fridge, seasoned and ready to grill. I forget about the expensive wine and the carefully curated playlist. Instead, I slide onto the bar stool across from Dane as he flips the golden, melty sandwich in the pan, take a sip of the dark, rich, chocolatey stout he opened for me, and watch him prepare our dinner.
When he plates the sandwiches, he walks around the counter island and grabs the back of my stool, spinning it so I’m turned to face him. He steps between my legs, closing the space between us, until the only thing I feel is the heat from his body and the only thing I see is the brilliant verdant green of his eyes. My heart begins to race in my chest at his proximity, as the exciting realization hits me that tonight means the same thing to him as it does to me.
“You didn’t have to do that.” My protest is weak and unnecessary. Dane shakes his head as his eyes crinkles with a secret smile.
“I know. I wanted to. I want to take care of you, Everly. That’s all I’ve wanted to do for so long.” My throat constricts from the emotions his confession stirs up inside of me. There is no duplicity in his expression. Only pure, unadulterated truth, longing and need.
“Will you let me? Take care of you? Now and forever?” Dane’s face becomes a blur as tears well in my eyes, as he cracks open my chest and takes my heart as his own. I can only nod, afraid if I open my mouth to speak I’ll ruin the moment with my newfound inability to keep my composure around him. Instead, I reach up and pull his face down, capturing his mouth with mine. The kiss is salty from my tears, but the way his tongue sweeps into my mouth, as his hands cradle my face like I’m his most precious possession, makes my body light up like the sky on the Fourth of July and soon the only thought I have room for in my head is how badly I need him inside me.
CHAPTER 52
DANE
