“Dallas is a hardheaded one.” She nodded as if commiserating and blew on the coffee before taking a small test sip. “So, what happened to make him bolt?”
“I don’t know. You tell me. You’ve known him longer.” He took a sip of the coffee. Tasteless and bland, much like everything he put to his mouth these days. He discarded it in the cup holder. He was wrecked on every level.
“He’s always kept his cards close to his chest. Until right now, I would have thought nothing ever got to him,” she explained, settling back in her seat.
“How is he?” Even through all this overload of confusion and pain, Greer didn’t want Dallas hurting. His need to care for Dallas, to wipe away his sorrow, was almost Greer’s undoing. He was ready to crawl out of his skin from wanting to beg Dallas to trust him enough to let him help.
“Just like you. He looks like hell, and he’s more closed up than normal. Ducky’s going crazy because Dallas doesn’t seem to care about anything.”
Greer paused, thinking over every one of her words. He cut a side-eye glance toward Skye, judging her sincerity. “He looks tired. I’ve been watching his class.” This time, Greer directed a hard, no-nonsense stare her direction, wanting the truth. “You haven’t been surprised about any of this. Why not?”
“Under what’s said in this car stays in this car, right?” she asked, her demeanor becoming serious, a side he hadn’t seen before, even during her personal training sessions.
The seconds ticked by; her questioning eyebrow raised. She wanted his oath before saying anything more. Greer gave a single confirming nod.
“In fifth or so grade, Dallas kissed one of our guy friends during a party. It turned out to be a whole thing. That then caused years of a whole thing.”
“I thought I was his first kiss…” he said, voicing his first disappointing thought aloud.
Her singsong laugh returned. Skye reached a hand over to push at his shoulder. “Don’t look so dejected. We played spin the bottle. Back then, Dallas was an extrovert and a daredevil. One of the guys—Jacob McLaney, a few years older than us—boldly stopped the bottle in the middle of the spin and pointed the tip toward Dallas. I think every girl in the circle was disappointed. Dallas always had that slightly distant thing. None of the girls could draw his attention. Dallas didn’t back away from Jacob, though. Kissed him in front of the whole party. Not a closed-mouth deal. They used tongue.”
What happened to get Dallas from kissing guys so young to hiding his true self so completely? Greer’s stomach churned over the possibilities. Poor kid.
“So, what’re we gonna do to make this right?” Skye asked, sweetly implying her willingness to help in the matter.
“I don’t know. I send him a text message every morning and every night. I’ve sent a snap a couple of times when my antsy side gets the best of me, but he’s not responding to any of it.” He couldn’t shake the desolation laced in every word he spoke. Greer stared down at his lap, watching his fingers fiddle with each other, revealing his anxiousness. His shoulders slumped. Everything made him edgy and unsure.
“Greer, that’s seriously sweet.”
Now he just wanted to cry. He gave a shuddered exhale, linking his fingers together to stop their worry. “I asked him to go with me this weekend. I need to cancel my trip. I’m in no condition to be around people.”
The flutter of his heart had him giving another side-eye glance toward Skye as the possible pieces of Dallas’s life fell together.
“What happened when he kissed the guy?”
Evidently, the memory didn’t come easy for Skye. She took a second or two longer to form her answer. “It was all everyone talked about for days. Dallas was grounded for a long time. He changed. I know he got a hard time from some of the kids at school. Then he was taken out of school by his parents. I think they put him in some kind of church school for a year. He came back a different guy. He was more withdrawn and kept to himself. I don’t remember him going to the parties or hanging out with us again.”
“What’re his parents like?” he asked.
“His dad’s super strict, but all the other parents would say things like, ‘he had three boys, of course he’s got to have a firm hand.’ Dallas’s mom is a housewife. She always fed us. My parents go to church with them. That’s where I would see Dallas while he was going through his Christian school year.” She nodded, staring off, seeing some unknown memory in her head. “I was the only one they let him hang out with during that time, and he never spoke about what he was going through. They thought I was a good Christian girl. Can you imagine?”