Page 65 of More Than Chemical
I grabbed Dallas’s hand. “Sorry, we have to get going.”
He nodded. “You’re right. We do.”
“Good night,” I called to Sandra as we stepped away. My palms were sweaty and my stomach felt like a mass of buzzing honeybees.
Dallas squeezed my hand as we walked together through the hall to the stairs. I paused at the bottom and let go.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“Sandra’s the one who started the rumors about you, isn’t she?”
His shoulders sagged a little. “Yeah, she’s the one.”
I squeezed my eyes shut. Which also meant he probably had slept with her, and for whatever reason, she was making him pay for it.Stop it, Ade. Stop it. Remember, youdon’t care about that stuff.And even if they did, it was before I even knew he existed.
“Ade?” Dallas’s voice was strong.
I opened my eyes and found him staring at me.
“I thought you didn’t want people in the dorm to see us together?”
I started up the stairs, and he followed. I glanced at him sideways. The answer to his question was clear, but I wasn’t ready to say it aloud or even admit it to myself. I didn’t want us to hide anymore, because somehow, somewhere, and contrary to the voice in my head, this thing between us had become about more than just sex. I wanted to be with him. I wanted people to know. I wanted to be just a regular girl attracted to a guy who made me feel special. Was that so horrible?
Stopping at his room, I passed him the key. “I guess I just don’t care about the not-being-seen-together thing anymore.”
“Really?” He lifted an eyebrow.
“Let people talk. It’ll be fun to find out what they say.”
“Sounds good to me.” He unlocked the door and let us in.
“But there is one thing…”
The door closed behind him. “What?”
I didn’t really want to ask him. But I had to. I had to know. “Sandra said that the night of that party, the one when we…when we first…”
“Kissed?”
“Yes, when we first kissed, you took home a different girl and fucked her. Is that true?”
Twenty-Three
It Finally Happens
Dallas snapped his head back and froze.
I waited.
He sighed and then flopped onto the futon. “Did Sandra really say that to you?”
“Well.” I sat next to him. “Kind of. She told Emma, and Emma told me.”
“Okay.” He sat straight. “First, I need to do some explaining, and then I can answer the question.” He took his jacket off. “The truth is, last fall, Sandra had a?—”
I clapped my hand over his mouth. “If you’re about to tell me that you slept with Sandra, I don’t want to know.”
I felt his lips move into a smile under my hand.
