Nothing More (Landon Gibson 1)

stealing a marker.”

A few customers look in our direction, but it’s pretty packed in here, so they are quick to find something else to look at, something more entertaining than an awkward coffee date between two exes.

“Carter said that the woman told him we were banned from there,” she adds, her gaze growing somber.

The mention of Carter prickles at the back of my neck.

Dakota must see something in my eyes, because she reaches across and puts her hand on mine. I’ve always let her.

Taking a page from her book, I change the subject. “We had some good times in Michigan.”

Dakota tilts her head and the light above us hits her hair, making her glow. I haven’t realized just how lonely I’ve been lately. Aside from Nora’s quick touch, I haven’t been touched in months. I haven’t been kissed in months. I haven’t even hugged anyone except Tessa and my mom since the last time Dakota came to visit me in Washington.

“Yeah, we did,” she says. “Until you left me.”

Chapter Seven

I’M WONDERING IF MY EXPRESSION looks anything close to how I feel. I wouldn’t be surprised if it did. My neck definitely jerked when she said that. She had to have seen that, is all I can think as I stare at her incredulously and wait for her to take back the harsh words.

“What?” she asks, deadpan.

There’s no way she actually . . .

“I didn’t want to leave . . . it’s not like I had a choice.” I keep my voice quiet, but I hope she can hear the sincerity in my words.

The guy at the next table looks up at us for a second, then turns his attention back to his laptop.

I grab both of her hands on the table and gently squeeze them between mine. I catch on to what she’s doing. She’s upset about school, so she’s projecting her anger and stress onto me. She always has, and I’ve always let her.

“That doesn’t change the fact that you did. You left, Carter was gone, my dad—”

“I wouldn’t have gone anywhere if I had a say in it. My mom was moving, and staying for my senior year of high school wasn’t a convincing enough reason for her to let me stay in Michigan. You know that.”

I’m gentle with her, the way I would be with a wounded animal lashing out at anyone who approaches.

Her anger is deflated instantly and she sighs. “I know. I’m sorry.” Her shoulders slump and she looks up at me.

“You can always talk to me about anything,” I remind her. I know how it feels to be a small person in such a big city. I haven’t really heard her talk about any friends except Maggy, and now I know she’s friends with Aiden for some awful reason that I don’t understand but I don’t think I want to inquire too deeply about. The way she spun for him . . .

Dakota looks toward the door and sighs again. I’ve never heard a person sigh so much in my life. “I’m fine. I’ll be fine. I just needed to vent, I guess.”

That’s not enough for me.

“You aren’t fine, Baby Beans,” I say, instinctively using her old nickname. Her wince quickly shifts to a shy smile and I sit back and let the familiarity of us take over. She’s softening now, finally, and it makes me feel less awkward around her.

“Really?” Dakota’s chair drags against the floor as she moves it closer to mine. “That was a cheap shot.”

I smile, staying silent and shaking my head. I didn’t use the name in order to gain some advantage. I had called her that by accident one day—I honestly have no idea why—and it just stuck. She melted then, and she’s melting now. It just slipped out without me thinking, but I can’t say that I’m not happy when she leans her head against my arm, wrapping her hand around it. The silly, accidental nickname has always had the same effect on her. I’ve always loved it.

“You’re so solid now,” she says, squeezing my biceps. “When did that happen?”

I’ve been working out more, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want her to notice, but now that she has noticed, together with her nearness, it makes me slightly shy.

Dakota’s hands run up and down my arm and I gently brush her curly hair away from my face.

“I don’t know,” I finally respond, my voice sounding much softer than I intended. Her fingers are still playing at my skin, tracing phantom shapes onto it, making goose bumps rise. “I’ve been running a lot and my building has a gym. I don’t use it often, honestly, but I run almost every day.”

It feels so good to be touched. I had forgotten just how good it feels to have simple companionship, let alone actually feeling the warmth of another person. The image of Nora’s nails raking down my stomach flashes through my mind and I shiver. Dakota’s touch is different, softer. She knows just how to touch me, what I’m used to. Nora’s touch sent waves through me; this touch is calming.

Why am I thinking about Nora?

Dakota continues to caress me while I try to push Nora from my head.