Page 15 of Our Long Days
My mouth opens, ready to reassure him it’ll stay between us, when our friends arrive. Relief floods his face; he can’t get away quick enough. A sinking feeling of doubt sours in my stomach.
No. Stop being a baby, Flo. You got drunk, fucked, and that’s that. Move on.
Plastering on a big smile, I snatch my drink off the bar, thank Lenny, and join the group.
This is fine. Absolutely fine.
It’s not fine.
Strangely, the bizarre turn of events has nothing to do with Dex and more with Booth punching someone.
Long story short: Kyle, one of the restaurant’s ex-employees, came here to confront Aly after she fired him. Naturally, she had it handled, but it didn’t go down well with my brother. It happened pretty quickly, and after the situation was deescalated, we called it a night. A blessing in disguise, honestly, because on more than one occasion, my attention drifted to Dex, no matter how hard I tried to ignore him.
“My nipples could cut glass.” Shivers wrack my body as we stand outside the bar.
Graham recoils. “Please stop talking.”
“Everyone has nipples.” Quinn giggles, tucking herself into his side. They’re so stinking cute. Quinn owns the local bakery in town, and she’s the best thing to have ever happened to my reserved, gentle brother.
“I know that, honey, but I’d rather not think about my sister’s.” Graham’s cheeks redden.
“Do I have time to pee?” I hop up and down.
We’re waiting on the rest of the group. Graham and Patrick are giving everyone a ride home. Dex disappeared after dragging Kyle out by the scruff of his neck.
Graham nods. “Yeah, be quick.”
Darting inside, I head toward the restroom, only to face-plant into a wide, solid chest.
My heart pounds. “Oh. I thought you left.”
Dex’s expression is unreadable. Two large hands steady me, our fronts flush. As if realizing, he strides back, putting a healthy amount of distance between us.
He scratches his jaw. “Was just on my way out. Graham giving you a ride?”
“Yeah. He’s outside.” Even in the darkened corridor, his discomfort is obvious, and I’m desperate to eradicate it. “Listen, I know the other night was…”
His eyebrow arches, and I choose my words carefully.
“Fun.” Also hot. “I’m self-aware enough to admit I panicked a little. I think the best thing for us to do is forget it ever happened.” I thrust a hand toward him. “Deal?”
“Forget?” he mumbles, eyeing my open palm suspiciously.
“Yeah. The whiskey helped dilute our…evening, and you don’t have to worry about me telling my brother or falling head over heels in love with you.”Despite me being halfway there.“It was a distraction, remember?”
This gets a reaction. His jaw ticks, teeth clenching.
“This doesn’t have to be awkw?—”
“If you left because I hurt you or I said something you didn’t like, I want to know.” His voice is deep and sober.
My jaw drops. This is why he’s acting weird.
He stares up at the ceiling. “Whether it’s once or one hundred times, the last thing I want the woman I slept with is to think I don’t respect her.” His gray eyes find mine, immobilizing me. “It might’ve been adistraction,but it’s important to me you felt safe and enjoyed yourself.”
I suck in a breath, a mixture of shock and guilt burning my nose. “That’s not why I left. It was perfect. You were perfect.” I’m not sure if the hug is for me or him. Either way, my arms wrap around his middle, ear pressed to his chest. “I’m sorry.”
He stops breathing, eerily still, hands hovering above my shoulders. After five seconds and a hit of his cologne, I go to peel myself away. A tender grip on my wrist halts me.
