“We need to be going.”
Dallas glanced up to see every eye at his table on him. The possibility of a perceived judgment automatically cast doubt on his choice. He firmed his resolve and rose. Not anymore. He wouldn’t let others’ opinions darken his new life.
“Excuse me,” he said to the table in general.
The overwhelming empowerment had him squaring his shoulders. His confidence built as he looked at his dream-making, stone-faced savior. Sadness, fatigue, and weariness lurked in the depths of Greer’s jewel-toned eyes. The firm set of his mouth and jaw created a crinkle of small lines at the corners of his lips. Otherwise, there was no expression on Greer’s striking face.
Greer didn’t touch him again. He swiveled around and started for the exit.
It seemed Dallas was destined to always follow.
Chapter 28
As the miles passed in the rearview mirror, Greer sat behind the steering wheel, brooding. He refused to be the first to speak. He had upended his entire life to the culmination of swooping in and doing his best Prince Charming interpretation, yet his love hadn’t fallen into his waiting arms. Oh no, not Dallas. He sat in the passenger seat with his face scrunched-up, staring out the side window with his bulging arms crossed tightly over his chest.
By God, Dallas would be the first to speak.
Hopefully.
Why wasn’t Dallas fighting for them in the same manner as Greer? Did he truly not feel all this chemistry drawing them together? Greer’s biggest fears played on a loop in his mind, in meticulous detail, mocking him as each mile passed. Perhaps the bitter truth was the one thing he had refused to consider—Dallas just wasn’t that into him.
“Where are we?”
All right, at least Dallas had spoken. Greer tuned back into his drive, looking around for an interstate mile marker. Dallas’s silence had lasted longer than he’d thought it would—at least thirty minutes from where they’d started—and they drove on a now-deserted highway, surrounded by complete darkness.
Even with all the trepidation about his stunt to get Dallas alone, his cock was a greedy bastard. The damn thing had turned hard and demanding the second he’d laid eyes on Dallas at the auction. The fucker even seemed to like Dallas’s tone, even if it held none of its normal warmth. Desire had his cock twitching, pressing against his zipper, desperately seeking attention.
“I believe we’re close to Ennis,” Greer muttered, unsure.
“Ennis?” Dallas asked, livid.
Okay, well that broke the uninterested tone Dallas had used. Greer couldn’t find the question in the single word Dallas asked, so he kept his lips clamped shut and continued to stare out the front windshield.
“Why aren’t you answering me?” Dallas demanded.
“I did answer you.” Greer gave himself points for keeping his eyes straight ahead.
“Why’re you being like this?” Dallas asked.
“Like what, Dallas?” He felt the burn of Dallas’s laser-eyed focus boring through him.
Greer spared a glance in Dallas’s direction. Dallas’s self-righteous indignation got the best of Greer. What the fuck did he have to be put out with? Greer forced himself to settle before those exact words tumbled from his lips. It wasn’t easy.
“I’m sorry if something isn’t to your liking. You’ve got me running a million different directions, trying to hold on to what I thought we shared. You’re going to have to be more specif—”
Dallas gave a disgruntled humph and turned away, back to staring out the side window, his arms crossing tighter this time.
“What’s that mean?” Greer asked, confused. Dallas’s silence turned deafening. Boy, the guy knew how to imply a million different things without saying a word. “I’ve spent the entire week doing everything I could to get your attention. You’ve gone practically MIA. The class participation is down—”
Dallas’s hands shot out as if none of that mattered. “I’m tired of apologizing to everyone because I can’t pay my damn bills. Where the fuck are we going, Greer?”
“Houston.” The word was clipped and final.
“Houston? I can’t go to Houston,” Dallas bellowed.
“Sure, you can. You aren’t doing anything else.” Greer instantly regretted his words, wishing he could take them back. Dallas was a hard worker. Greer took a deep steadying breath and dropped the pretense between them. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. You’ve got me crazy. I don’t know if this is a good idea or not. We’re going to Houston for a fundraising political dinner tomorrow night then a beach cleanup by a company I’m working with in Guatemala.”
“I can’t go to Guatemala, and before you ask why, for all the reasons you just said,” Dallas explained in whatever octave hit right below a yell.
“I’ve worked it out. You’re covered back home. And you’re supposed to think of all my effort as gallant.”
The harrumph followed by the invisible wall of distance snapped back in place between them. Dallas turned away from Greer, again staring out the window.