CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Dash is suddenly sitting next to me. “What’s wrong, baby?”
I hand the phone to Dash and let him read the message. “He wants to talk about me, does he? Well, I say let’s workout, eat, and then go talk to your father.”
“Dash—”
“Baby, he is clearly not going away. And you don’t have closure.”
“And you do?”
“We’re not talking about me.”
I face him. “Maybe we should be.”
“I’m not telling you we can’t talk about me, or my father. We can. But right now, we’re dealing with yours.”
“I think we’re dealing with yours, too.”
“No. The last thing we have to deal with is my father. We avoid each other. We were tricked into that encounter.”
“Because of Brandon.”
“Which is not your fault,” he assures me.
“What if this is Brandon at work again? What if he shows up?”
“Bring it,” Dash says. “I’ll be ready. The question is, will you? What if Brandon shows up?”
“I don’t think he will, not with my father present.”
“Unless that’s not your father.”
“You think it’s Brandon?”
“After what happened at that book signing, I’d be prepared for anything.”
My mind goes to the encounter between Tyler and Dash in the bar. That was intense and personal, I know, but isn’t this as well?
“I think we should just skip the meeting. Or I need to go alone.”
“I’d like to go,” Dash says simply. “I think we should go together. But this isn’t my decision to make. It’s yours.” He leans over and kisses me. “Think about it.”
The idea that he’s asked me rather than told me what should happen—and I sense he means this completely—matters to me. This is one of those moments when I love Dash all the more. He’s dominant, controlling, even a tad bit arrogant, but he saves these things for the right times, usually when we’re naked. Mostly. He has slips, but for the most part outside the bedroom, he’s tender, caring, grateful.
“That doesn’t mean I won’t be nearby, like right outside the door, if you need me,” he adds. “I told you, I’m protective, baby. I can’t be any other way with you.”
Another quality I like—no, love—about Dash. He really worries about me and while I know this partially comes from some of his deep-rooted pain and a history of loss, it still shows how much I mean to him.
“I need to call and deal with the pilot I have on standby to take us home,” he continues. “When do you want that to be?”
“Tuesday? I just need to talk to my boss here tomorrow. Or even late tomorrow night.”
“Tuesday morning,” he says. “I’ll arrange it. How about a workout and then lunch?”
“Only if there’s coffee first.”
“I’ll order it now.” He starts to get up.
I catch his arm. “What will you do if Brandon shows up?”
“I like control, Allie. Choosing to fight and randomly punching someone are two different things. He’s in my world. I’m not in his world.”
“He’ll try and ruin you.”
“Greater men, like my father, have tried and failed.”
“Your father tried to ruin you?”
“A story better told over booze and when we’re naked.” He softens his voice. “But I’ll tell you, Allie.” He strokes my cheek and stands up, walking toward the bedroom door.
I glance down at the message again and reread it: This is your father. I know you’re in the city. I think we should talk about Dash Black, among other things. I’ll be at that little coffee shop you like at three o’clock. It doesn’t sound like him and since I blocked his number, I can’t even be sure it is him. I pull up his real number and unblock it. I shoot him a text: Did you text me from another number about coffee today?
He doesn’t reply. I wait and wait. He still doesn’t reply.
Nothing about this feels right.
And I know, I just know, that Brandon isn’t done with us. I ran from him in the past. I know I did. But if there is one lesson I’ve learned this weekend, it’s that running doesn’t work. It just delays a problem and gives it time to grow bigger and bigger until it snowballs down the hill and crashes into you. I thought the crash had happened Saturday. But maybe that was just the start of a snowball. Trouble hasn’t come and gone, it’s still here.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
I freshen up and throw on my workout leggings and a tank top before heading out to the living room and kitchen area of the hotel suite. I find Dash standing by the window, a coffee cup in hand, still naked from the waist up. My stomach does this fluttery thing at the sight of him. That never happened with Brandon. Ever. I live with Dash now and I feel that just walking into the same room. I’m not sure that feeling will ever outstay its welcome. But people trying to get between us—that will, that has. First Tyler at the bar. Then Brandon. Then Dash’s father. Now my father, or maybe it’s not my father. I have no idea who that message was from.