Page 75 of Girl Going Nowhere

“Want company?”

Blake hooks an arm around my waist. “I wouldn’t mind that at all.”

I nudge her playfully. “That’s because youlikeme,” he teases.

She pushes my shoulder. “Stop being a loser, loser.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Finn

Dante walks intothe apartment and stops when he sees the spread of takeout containers laid out on the coffee table. “What’s this?”

Swiping my hands down my jeans, I stand and gesture toward the curry I ordered. “I thought you could use some dinner after your big deadline. You’ve been stressed, so…”

He drops his bag onto the couch and stares down at the different options. “You got it all, didn’t you?”

I lift a shoulder, a little embarrassed that I bought so much. “We know Brodie will eat half of this tonight when he and Blake get back.”

“Where are they?”

“Apartment hunting.”

Dante’s eyes dart up. “Together…?”

I open one of the containers of naan and set it by the curry. “No, for Blake. She wants to move out and get something for her and Maia.”

He doesn’t say anything as I set one of the plastic sets of utensils by his dish.

I look up at him. “Are you all right?”

His tongue swipes along his lips as he picks his gaze up from the food to me. “Let’s go out.”

Blinking, I pause what I’m doing. “Do you not want this? I even got the kabobs that—”

“No, no.” He stands taller, rubbing the back of his neck. “I mean, let’s go out just the two of us. Doesn’t have to be tonight.”

He wants…?

When I don’t say anything, his hand drops to his side. “We don’t have to. I thought it might have been a good idea, but if you’re—”

“I want to,” I cut him off quickly. “You took me by surprise is all. Sorry. Are you thinking the Tavern for drinks and the game?”

He clicks his tongue, glancing down at the food again. Not before I see the nerves in his eyes. “I talked to Rafael,” he says.

My brows arch at the information I already knew. Did he forget he told me?

Dante clears his throat. “I don’t want to live the way I’ve had to my whole life, always worried about what people would think. I told him he couldn’t be in my life if he was going to be like everybody else.”

Not sure what to say, I remain quiet.

“I want him in my life,” he concludes. “It doesn’t mean I’ve forgiven him, but I’m open to it if he can prove himself trustworthy. Until then, I don’t want to keep pretending.”

I don’t want to keep pretending.

Lips rubbing together, I ask, “You don’t want to keep pretending what?”

When his eyes meet mine, my chest inflates with a fullness I’ve never quite felt before. “I don’t want to keep pretending that this thing with me and you means nothing.”

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