Tease Me Page 8

  “Have you ever known me to let anything go?” I said, a smile on my face.

  “True,” she replied, smiling.

  “So no, I didn’t grow out of it. In fact, over the years, I hardened in that position. And, add to that the fact that I’m, well, me, and it was definitely not a recipe for romance.”

  “You? What does that mean?” Sarah asked.

  She seemed genuinely confused, and I could have hugged her for that.

  “You guys are the greatest, but you don’t have to pretend,” I said.

  “Pretend about what?” Sarah asked.

  “I recognize that I’m awesome. And you recognize that I’m awesome, because you’re awesome, but I also know that I’m a bit of an…acquired taste.”

  That was the best way I decided I could characterize it. There were other, less positive ways of saying it, but I chose that one.

  “What are we talking about here, Dallas?” Cree asked, looking serious. “Your physical appearance?”

  “I’m certain that doesn’t help things, but I’m thinking more of the total package. I mean I’m a lot. And add to that a healthy dose of awkwardness, and like I said, not a recipe for romance.”

  “I don’t think you’re awkward,” Sarah said.

  “That’s just because you’ve been inoculated against it. But trust me, if you were a marriageable partner, you’d see it all over, and, much to my eternal chagrin, it’s highly unlikely you would find it sexy,” I said.

  I smiled, and so did the ladies, but I could see Cree’s protest building. Protest that she shared a moment later.

  “That may—or may not—be true, but I firmly believe that anybody who’s worth your time is going to look at you’re a-lotness and what you call your awkwardness and see that it’s just part of the beautiful, magical you,” she said.

  “What she said,” Sarah said, gesturing toward Cree.

  I laughed, but then nodded my agreement.

  “And it’s because of you that I finally understand that. I’m not going to change, but that doesn’t mean I have to be sentenced to a life of solitude. And that’s why I made a decision,” I said.

  “And what decision is that?” Sarah asked.

  “I’m done being alone. I’m not going to jump into anything, be rash, but, as much as it might pain me, I’m going to finally, fully open myself up. See if there’s somebody out there who can deal with my a-lotness,” I said.

  I went quiet then, deciding to leave out the part about my virginity, my conversation with Kristian, the way I intended to go about this project of finding love. Ultimately, those were minor details in the grand scheme of things. And besides, the idea of mentioning it to anyone else was positively mortifying, and I feared they might try to talk me out of it.

  “That’s fantastic, Dallas,” Sarah said.

  The woman was usually soft-spoken, but I could hear her fierceness and her approval.

  “I agree. And whoever ends up with you is going to be damned lucky,” Cree said.

  “You’re damn right about that,” I said to loud laughter.

  “Too bad we don’t have more champagne, we should toast,” Cree said.

  “We don’t need champagne. Bring it in, ladies,” I said as I extended my hand palm down.

  They both laughed, stuck their hands out as we stacked them.

  “To love!” I said.

  “To love,” they cried in unison.

  Seven

  Dallas

  After brunch with Cree and Sarah, Cree dropped me off at the boutique, and as I walked back home, I reflected on the day.

  It had been good to tell them what I was thinking, and remind myself why I had ventured down this path.

  I was doing this for a reason, and a darn good one, and I couldn’t be dissuaded, especially not so easily.

  The conversation had also been an important reminder. This wouldn’t go smoothly, and I knew I was going to face challenges, but in the end, looking at Cree, seeing the pure joy on her face only convinced me that I was doing the right thing, reminded me that I wanted some of that joy of my own. But as with everything else in my life, if I wanted it, the only way I was going to get it was to take it.

  But while I was again resolved to do this, I still hadn’t completely unraveled the predicament with Kristian.

  In some ways, it didn’t have to be a predicament.

  After all, he’d said he would go through with it, and questioning him any further was tantamount to looking a gift horse in the mouth.

  Still, I couldn’t quite shake one feeling that hadn’t left me.

  I knew he was doing this because I had asked, but I hadn’t counted on how the reality of his begrudging acceptance would feel.

  It wasn’t that I necessarily needed him to be enthusiastic about it. After all, I was a realist, and knew that this wasn’t a love connection. It was one friend helping out another.

  But as I replayed our phone conversation, heard his voice, remembered the way it had sounded, I had felt a bit more reluctance.

  I didn’t need him to be happy about it, but I also wasn’t sure if I could go through with it when I knew he was simply indulging me.

  Which was beyond ridiculous when I thought about it. Of course he was begrudgingly giving in to me and of course he wouldn’t want to throw a parade, but still, it didn’t quite sit right with me, the idea of him simply going along because I had asked.

  The obvious thing to do would be to talk to Kristian about it, but I still hadn’t been able to make myself pick up the phone.

  And in the two days that passed, I convinced myself that he was busy, had other engagements to attend to, that he didn’t need me bothering him with my problems.

  Excuses, flimsy bullshit excuses at that, but I used them to keep my distance for those two days, though my mind thought of little else.

  I was back in the studio, again looking at my sketches, trying to will myself to start on the metal sculptures.

  I was deep in concentration, finally having found some reprieve from the thoughts of Kristian when my phone chimed.

  “Dammit,” I muttered.

  That was exactly why I shouldn’t bring the stupid thing into the studio, but now that I had heard the chime, I knew I wouldn’t be able to get back to work until I answered it.

  As I walked across my studio to the bag where my phone was shoved into the bottom, I knew, without knowing how, that it was Kristian.

  We sometimes went a day or two without talking, but those times were rare, and if this day had passed with no word from him, I would’ve been surprised.

  My thought was confirmed when I picked up the phone and saw I had a text from him.

  Haven’t seen you in two days. Worried you might have starved to death. Dinner at nine. My place.

  Despite the nerves, I smiled. That was quintessential Kristian. The one I knew so well.

  He wouldn’t do something so normal as text me and tell me that he wondered where I was. No, he would take an entirely different approach, playing it off like he was doing me a favor rather than asking after me.

  But I wasn’t offended, couldn’t be, not when I knew him so well.

  Sure.

  I typed my one-word response and then made myself shove my phone back into my bag. Then I went back to the sculptures, trying to pretend everything was normal, knowing that it wasn’t.

  Ordinarily, if I’d gotten that kind of summons, I wouldn’t have given it a second thought.

  But today was anything but ordinary.

  Because as much as I would like to pretend otherwise, as much as I tried to keep those thoughts at bay, I knew I would have to talk to Kristian about what we had agreed to. Try to understand his perspective and see if I had the nerve to go through with it.

  “Good fucking job, Dallas,” I said as I again picked up my pencils and began to sketch.

  I wasn’t sure how I had managed to make such a mess out of this, but I was determined to untangle it. Perhaps I was getting caught up, not
seeing the forest for the trees, but I knew how much I wanted to move on, knew I wanted a life, love.

  So I’d just have to trust Kristian, trust myself, and know that I was doing the right thing.

  Kristian

  I had never been a clock watcher, but it felt like time was going in reverse. Nine o’clock couldn’t come fast enough.

  I hated that feeling, but even more, hated that it was caused because of something with Dallas and me.

  I hadn’t spoken to her or seen her since our last conversation, and the time apart had been excruciating.

  I wasn’t exactly sure what I had been expecting. It wasn’t like she was going to drop everything and come running over to my house so we could get this out of the way and get back to normal. But the long gap in communication threw me for a little bit more than a loop.

  Besides the fact that it was so out of the ordinary, her reaction to my agreement, how understated she’d been, left me feeling a little bit unsteady.

  I should have waited until we were in person, because though I knew her well, not seeing her face left me at a disadvantage.

  Without being able to gauge her reaction, I felt like I was flying blind, not entirely sure how she was responding, and, if I were being honest, worried that she was going to change her mind.

  In theory, her doing so would have been for the best. But if she was going to change her mind and then try to find someone else, I couldn’t allow that.

  Even now, the very thought made my gut clench and twist in the most unpleasant way.

  So, as pathetic as it might make me, I needed to see her, get some reassurance that we were on the same page.

  “I’ll see you in the morning, Chef,” Martin said.

  “See you, Martin,” I called.

  Very seldom had I been relieved to leave my restaurant, but today I couldn’t wait to get out of there.

  I had made dinner for Dallas and me at the restaurant and carried it to my house. I was about fifteen minutes late, so I wasn’t surprised when I opened the door and found Dallas standing at the windows.

  “You waiting long?” I asked.

  My voice sounded normal, but my heart gave a little kick, one that was completely out of place. I chalked it up to being relieved to see her in person again.

  “Nope. Just about fifteen minutes,” she said.

  She had turned to look at me, but then went back to the view, and I found myself watching her, again mesmerized by her face as she took in the sights.

  She smiled, then turned to me.

  “This is never going to get old,” she said, appreciation clear in her voice and face.

  She walked toward the open kitchen and then leaned on the island.

  “What’s for dinner?”

  “Lamb, cauliflower mash, asparagus. Something simple,” I said as I stuck the plates in the oven to warm.

  Dallas’s laughter, deep, rich, so quintessentially her, filled the kitchen. The sound was familiar but different now. Where before it had been friendly, now there was a promise of pleasure, and before I could stop it, my mind drifted to what would soon happen between us. The anticipation of that time chased by nerves about how things might change left me a little lightheaded and more excited than I dared admit.

  “Yeah, simple,” she said, bringing me back to the present.

  She went quiet for a moment, and I locked eyes with her.

  Making eye contact with Dallas wasn’t anything of particular note, but my heart gave that stupid little kick again.

  “How are you doing, Kristian?” she asked, whispering now.

  “Better now that you’re here,” I said.

  I answered honestly, and looked at her, trying to gauge her reaction.

  She smiled softly, but I couldn’t read very much into it.

  “Work has been brutal?” she asked.

  I hadn’t necessarily been talking about work, but decided telling her that, especially when I didn’t understand what I was thinking wasn’t the best idea.

  Instead I turned, breaking the eye contact and paying attention to the oven.

  “Yeah you know, hectic. But I’m getting closer,” I said.

  “You’ll get there,” she said.

  “How are the sculptures?” I asked.

  “Kicking my ass. I’m still in the sketching phase,” she said, sounding glum.

  “You’ll get there too,” I said, pausing long enough to look at her.

  She smiled, though her expression was melancholy.

  “Eventually. Eventually. But you know how it is, trust the process and all that. What do you want to drink?”

  “Water is fine,” I responded.

  Dallas nodded, and then went about her ritual of setting places for us as I put the finishing touches on the meal.

  As we usually did, we sat on barstools at the island, and as we ate, I again noted how good it felt to have her back.

  There were questions I could ask, small talk we could make about this or that, but we seemed to reach a silent agreement to eat without talking.

  And it felt good, right. I’d have to make sure I didn’t go this long without seeing her, especially not when there was something hanging between us that we needed to discuss.

  Speaking of…

  “You finished?” I asked.

  “Yeah,” Dallas said. “Are you?”

  “Yeah,” I responded, pushing my plate.

  “Then take ten while I clean this up,” she said.

  “Okay,” I said, leaving the kitchen to head to my bedroom.

  I took a quick shower, happy to wash off the day’s work, and then put on a T-shirt and shorts.

  By the time I made it back to the kitchen, Dallas was wiping down the counters.

  “Thanks for dinner, Kristian,” she said.

  “Anytime,” I responded.

  “Still, thank you,” she said.

  I felt a warning signal go off. It wasn’t like there was anything unusual about Dallas saying thank you for dinner. She almost always did, but there was something different in her voice, a quality I didn’t necessarily like.

  I had known we were going to have to talk about this, but I decided I couldn’t wait any longer.

  “What’s going on, Dallas?” I asked as I came to stand in front of her.

  She had her back against the refrigerator, and she looked up at me, her expression somewhat blank.

  There couldn’t have been a better tip-off that something was bothering her.

  Dallas was many things, often many of them at the same time, but she was never blank.

  “Just tired, I guess,” she said.

  I shook my head, smiling, though there was no humor in the look.

  “Are you really doing this?” I asked, looking at her skeptically.

  She sighed, rolled her eyes.

  “I’ve made a mess of things,” she said, her voice cracking with emotion.

  “Want to be more specific?” I asked.

  She shoved me in the shoulder. “Don’t be a dummy, Kristian,” she said, her words almost a pout.

  “I’m not being a dummy, but you’re not being very expressive,” I said.

  “Are you going to make this harder than it needs to be?” she asked.

  I looked at her, shook my head. “That’s not my intention, Dallas, but we need to talk about it.”

  “Again?” she said, pouting still.

  “Yes, again.”

  “Then let’s talk about it,” she said, sighing.

  She crossed her arms under her breasts, something she did all the time, though this time when I looked down, I couldn’t help but notice their fullness, the way the constriction of the T-shirt outlined her small waist.

  But I quickly redirected my thoughts and met her eyes.

  “I thought you didn’t want to go through with it,” she said.

  “I meant what I said. I don’t think this is the right thing to do. But you seem to have your mind made up,” I said.

  “It is,” she re
sponded. And again, I heard the resolve in her voice, knew there was no way I was going to change her mind.

  “Yeah, you’re sure, so if this is what you think you need to do, I’m going to support you in it,” I said.

  I hadn’t intended to be so serious, but when I looked at Dallas, saw her certainty about her path, her uncertainty about me, I knew how important this matter was.

  “I think that might be the problem,” she said, looking up at me though her eyes were somewhat hidden.

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “You’ve had my back for a long time, and I appreciate it.”

  “I don’t know if I like where this is going. Where is it going?” I asked.

  “I’m just saying. I realize now that even bringing this to you was something I shouldn’t have done. But now that I have I have to deal with the consequences, and unfortunately you do too. Knowing all that, I still can’t stop myself from asking another question,” she said.

  She looked down, but then looked back up at me.

  “So ask. You know you can ask me anything. That should be obvious by now,” I said, ending on a little smile.

  Dallas didn’t return it. In fact, she looked as serious as I thought I had ever seen her.

  “This is the stupidest question I’ve ever asked, even stupider than asking you to take my virginity, but I have to,” she said.

  “So ask,” I repeated.

  She had looked down again, but then looked up at me.

  “You’re not attracted to me,” she said.

  Eight

  Kristian

  “That wasn’t a question. That was a statement,” I countered.

  “And that wasn’t an answer. You’re trying to stall me,” she responded without pause.

  “Ask your question, Dallas,” I said, my voice taking on a little bit more sternness than I intended.

  “You say you’ll have sex with me. So are you just going to hold your nose and do it? Do you think…?” She trailed off, then looked at me, swallowed. “Or do you think it’s something you might actually enjoy?”

  Dallas was still flat against the refrigerator, her arms crossed around her waist. It wasn’t an uncommon posture for her, but when I looked at it now, it seemed as though she was trying to protect herself, shield herself from what she anticipated coming from me.