by Alex Wolf
“No way. We know how to eat in Texas.”
“Atta girl, Whitley.”
We make our way down the elevator, and Dex leads me through the front door.
“Holy shit…” My hands shoot over my mouth. I can’t believe I just said that out loud. I seem to do that a lot around him. “Sorry, I just have a thing for cars.” There’s a Chevelle parked by the curb. It’s the mother of all badass cars. It’s a dark blue color with white racing stripes. It looks completely restored, like it’s brand new.
“What?” Dex shrugs half-heartedly.
“What do you mean what? Do you not see that Chevelle?”
“Yeah, I see it every day.” He holds up his keys and jiggles them at me.
No way is that his car. How have I never seen it? Maybe because I take the train everywhere and never go near the parking garage.
“Her name is Betsy and ogle her when I’m not looking. She’s all mine.”
We walk over and he opens the door for me. I slide in onto the vinyl seats, and damn, it just smells like raw power.
Dex folds himself into the driver’s seat. He fumbles for his keys, and I get a better peek at his tattoos as his sleeve slides up his arm. Butterflies go crazy in my stomach as he turns the key and the car rumbles to life.
It’s so freaking hot. Like James Dean, Rebel Without a Cause, hot. I peek into the back seat, and holy hell, he has the leather jacket and everything.
Dex slouches back in the seat with one hand on the wheel, and I just take a mental snapshot of him while the vibrations run through my body.
It’s like we’re setting off on a journey together, and I’ve never seen a man look so damn sexy in all my life.
I really did pick out a great outfit and it’s not lost on me that we look like a perfect couple together.
Dex looks over and winks, and before I know it he backs out and we’re flying down the street.
Dinner’s going great.
We’re in this hip little place with a name I can’t pronounce and would butcher if I tried, but it’s intimate and fancy. It’s perfect for a first date. No having to talk over a crowd. We’re at a table in the back that’s very private. The ambience screams romantic, but not over the top. It’s very subtle. A dainty chandelier hangs over our table and we’re seated on brown leather chairs that curve slightly toward each other.
He clearly put a lot of thought into choosing this restaurant. Chalk another one up in the win column for Dexter Collins.
“So, what was it like in your house with all those boys? I’ve always wondered about that.”
Dexter laughs and takes a drink of his beer. “Utter chaos. Rough housing nonstop that drove our mom crazy. I don’t know how she put up with us. Someone was always breaking something or bleeding.”
“So… you’re a mama’s boy?” I tease him.
Dex picks at the label on his bottle of beer. “What makes you say that?”
Damn, did I say something wrong? God, am I ruining the moment? “Nothing, I just… You made the question all about her. It seemed like you had empathy for her situation, mentioning her raising all those boys, you guys driving her nuts.”
He smiles, like he can sense my discomfort. “Can you keep a secret?”
“Sure.” All feels right once again when he smiles at me.
“Total mama’s boy.” He leans back. “There, I said it and I’m not ashamed at all.” He pauses. “But seriously, don’t tell anyone.”
I laugh. He’s so relaxed right now. I’m really digging this playful side of him. “I would never.” I stare at him long and hard for a few seconds.
“What?”
“Can I tell you a secret too?”
He straightens up. “Absolutely.”
“Total mama’s girl over here too. I call her almost every night. I told her about you.” I fidget with my hands on the table and break eye contact.
His lips curl into a sly smirk. “Only good things, I hope.”
“She called you a boy.” I laugh.
He frowns.
I hold a hand up. “Oh no, don’t worry. She thinks all the men who aren’t southern are boys without manners. She’s kind of partial to the south.”
He reaches out for my hand, and it’s like a jolt of electricity flashes through me when our fingers connect. “I’ll just have to change her mind, won’t I?”
You’re blushing again. Knock it off, Abby!
“Tell me more about your mom.”
Dex leans back in his chair, and both of us completely ignore the food in front of us. “I don’t know, she just always got me, you know?”
I nod, almost furiously. He has no idea how much I can relate.
“Decker and Deacon were good at sports, like my dad. It wasn’t my thing.” He pauses like he’s holding back.
“What is it?”
“Okay, so you know… No, I don’t know if I…”
I grip his hand a little tighter. “Tell me. I want to know.”
“Well, everyone thinks I love pudding at the office.”
I shake my head. “Would’ve never thought that.” Oh goodie, the mystery of the pudding is about to unfold. I’ve always been curious what his deal is with it. It’s like a ritual for him.
He laughs. “The truth is, that was mine and my mom’s thing. She always kept them hidden in the house and told me where they were when I was a boy. It was our secret, you know? Four boys and I had a twin brother, so we had to share everything, but it was something just for me. I think it all started when I got this scar.” He points to his face. “Crashed on my skateboard when I was young. Decker was supposed to be watching me and I had to go get stitched up. Mom would bring me pudding because it was all I would eat. I was milking it for all it was worth, but it just continued, all the way through high school, and even when I moved out. Hell, sometimes I’d show up to the old house before they moved, when something was bothering me, or I had a problem. She always had them there, and we’d sit down and talk and eat pudding together… It sounds stupid.”
I shake my head. “It’s not stupid at all. I understand, trust me.”
“Well, her and Dad moved down to Florida, and she sends me those in the mail and always has a note with them, telling me what’s going on with her and asking me about life. I send some to her with notes from me. It’s our thing, still. And I take them to work and keep them up there anytime I have a case that’s gnawing at me. It’s like I can’t think if I don’t have them there. It’s why I get pissed when people steal them, and why I put a sign on them in the fridge. People think I’m just being anal like Decker, but it really is important to me.”
I think my heart might’ve just melted away. I can’t believe he just told me all that, and it makes so much sense. I don’t know what I’d do if I didn’t always have my mom one click away on my phone.
For some reason, I just sit there, staring like an idiot. I must look so dumb.
“Sorry, I shouldn’t have dropped all that on you. You just asked, and I…” He starts to move his hand away, and my fingers tighten around it, almost to the point I might be digging my nails into his skin.
Don’t you ever move that hand, Dexter Collins!
“No, thanks for telling me. I’m serious. And I won’t ever say a word to anyone else, promise.”
Dex nods and snaps out of his thoughts. “What about you? Any siblings?”
I nod. “Yep. I have a younger sister. She was a surprise baby. She’s ten years younger than me so we aren’t super close. It’s weird. I almost feel like half parent, half sibling. I never was great at the whole getting along with other girls thing, but I do miss her like crazy. I never really had girlfriends growing up. I went to a small school in Texas. It was all about football and you were pretty much a cheerleader or you weren’t, and I didn’t like cheerleading. So, I didn’t have anyone, you know, to spill all my secrets to or have sleepovers with. My roommate for instance. I never know how to take her. I can’t tell if she’s just being a bitch or if she
’s half joking sometimes when she says things. I think I need to live on my own. I can’t wait to find a new place. One that will let me have a dog.”
“A dog lover, huh? Totally had you pegged as a cat person.”
“No way. Cats are assholes. I want a husky. One with big blue eyes. Growing up I never could have one because my dad was allergic.”
“So, you love banana pudding, your mom, and dogs… what else?”
I laugh, and I love that he wants to know more about me. The feeling is mutual. “I don’t know if I should tell you this next one. It is a first date after all. I won’t be mysterious and interesting if I tell you everything.”
He leans in like now we’re getting to the good stuff. “Tell me. Can’t leave me on a cliffhanger like that.”
I draw out a sigh, just to tease him a little longer. “Well it’s bound to come out sooner or later since we work together. I’m Christmas obsessed. Like, I get crazy. Ugly sweaters, decorations, the movies. I love the classics and all the romantic movies that come on the Hallmark channel. Actually, I love pretty much every movie ever made. I can have an entire conversation in movie quotes. But Christmas is my big thing, above all else.”
Dex rubs his hands together. “Okay, most important question of your life, Whitley.”
Oh no. I hope I don’t say the wrong thing. “Is this a test?”
“Yeah, the biggest one of your life.” He grins. “Die Hard; Christmas movie or no?”
“Definitely a Christmas movie,” I say without thinking.
Dex grins like his day just got a lot better.
I try to hide the large breath I exhale. “Thank God I passed the Die Hard test.”
“With flying colors. Didn’t even have to think about it. I like it.”
“That could’ve been a deal breaker for me too.”
“Glad we’re on the same page.”
I nod. “Yep, you got lucky there.”
“Oh, I got lucky?” Dex laughs.
“You did.”
“Did you know Quinn doesn’t think Die Hard is a Christmas movie? Deacon looked like he was going to die when he told me.”
“What? I thought for sure Quinn would be pro-Die Hard.”
Dexter shrugs. “What can I say? You’re better than her already.” He glances away, like he’s having a little too much fun. “Okay, crazy Christmas lady. I take it you like hot chocolate?”
“Duh! I make the best hot chocolate ever. I learned it from one of my teachers when I was like eight. Every year in my hometown they have a festival. They go all out with a tree-lighting ceremony and Santa parade. It’s a big deal.”
“You’re adorable.” He winks.
I fake-scowl. “Shut up. I’m not cute.”
“No, you’re right, you’re a big Christmas clown.”
I lightly rap my fingers on the tabletop and try to suppress a grin. Dexter’s sweet. He makes me smile a lot, and there haven’t been any weird or tense moments. I haven’t felt this relaxed in a long time, longer than I can remember. I feel weightless, like I could float off into the clouds. My guard is totally down and that should scare the hell out of me, but it doesn’t. Not at all. “Well, I was going for sexy tonight.” I say it right as he takes a sip of his beer.
He damn near starts to choke but manages to compose himself. “Well, you nailed it. Trust me.”
I’m not usually one to fish for compliments, but I could listen to them come from Dexter Collins all night long. “Don’t lie.”
“Not a lie. You could dress up like Mrs. Claus and I’d put your poster on my wall. True story.”
I laugh at the thought, then heat flushes through my face, thinking about dressing up in a sexy Christmas outfit for Dex. That could be a lot of fun. “Maybe I will sometime. You have to do the classic Chevy Chase rant from Christmas Vacation, though. Word for word, Collins.”
Dex laughs. “Oh, I’d nail it. You bring Frank Shirley into my living room and I’d tell him what a dog-kissing, brainless, dickless, hopeless, heartless, fat-ass, bug-eyed, stiff-legged, spotty-lipped, worm-headed sack of monkey shit he is.”
Oh my God, he just quoted it without even trying. Why is him quoting Christmas movies so freaking hot? “I’m impressed, sir.”
I hold up my beer, and he taps the bottle with his.
I don’t know if this date can go any better. It’s seriously perfect.
I grin. “So, about my poster on the wall? What would you be doing when looking at said poster?”
“It’s classified. I could tell you but then I’d have to kill you.”
Did he just quote Top Gun? “It’s not your flying, it’s your attitude.”
“Nice, you weren’t lying.”
“You can’t stump me. I’ll quote any movie. The great ones anyway.”
“Tell me something else about you. I could listen to your stories all night long. What’s on your bucket list?”
I tap my chin. “Okay, well, I’ve always wanted to go ice skating. It’s not real big in Texas and we lived like an hour outside of Fort Worth. I almost got to go once, though. I begged my dad over and over and he found this outdoor skating rink in the city. We drove all the way there, and I was so excited, but when we got there it was closed for maintenance or something. Dad was furious. Tried to call the manager and didn’t get an answer. He apologized to me a million times and looked like he’d let me down. I felt awful for him and told him it was okay. I know he tried his best. But the story is just as good as getting to ice skate. It really showed me how much he cared and stuff, you know? I’m pretty lucky to have two amazing parents.”
Dex nods. “Sounds like a great guy. And as far as ice skating goes, well, you moved to the right city for that.” He glances to his watch. “Okay, one more Abigail fun fact, then we need to get going.”
“That one’s easy. Roller coasters. I love them. We used to go to Six Flags every summer and I’d ride them until I couldn’t walk straight.”
Dex’s face pales a little, and he takes a sip of water. “Awesome. Love roller coasters.”
He almost sounds like he’s mocking me. “What? You don’t like them?”
He shakes his head. “No, they’re fine.”
Shit, did I say something wrong?
Dex signs the air at the waitress and she brings the check over. He tosses some cash on the table and winks at me. “Let’s get out of here.”
Normally, I’d find a guy winking cheesy as hell, or goofy, but Dex somehow pulls it off. I think it’s because he’s not taking himself seriously when he does it.
“All right, Collins.” I give him an obviously sarcastic wink. “You’re one for one so far, let’s see how you do next. I’m ready to watch those hot, naked, sweaty dudes pound on each other.”
Dex snickers and starts to say something but pauses and shakes his head. “Damn Christmas clown.”
“I’m not a clown. Christmas crazy but not a clown.” I point at him.
He catches my hand and wraps his around mine. Our fingers interlace like we’ve done it a million times before.
“Keep telling yourself that...” He leans in close and whispers, “My little sexy Christmas clown.”
His hand moves to the small of my back, and I fight the urge to lean into it.
It’s so gentle and possessive at the same time.
It’s like a warning to everyone around, she’s mine, but at the same time I’m leading the way. Maybe I’m just overanalyzing this whole situation. That’s probably it.
Before I know what’s happened, he’s draped his leather jacket over my shoulders and we’re headed toward the door.
“Sun went down. You’re gonna freeze.”
I seriously might combust. It smells just like him and his cologne and there’s something incredibly intimate about the moment.
Do not sniff his jacket!
I lean into him while we wait for the valet to pull his car around and inhale the intoxicating scent of his cologne once more. It’s late October and he wasn’t lying.
I’m cold through both layers and he has to be dying in just his tee shirt, but he doesn’t show it. I’ve never lived anywhere that gets this cold, but it gives me an excuse to lean into him and let him and his jacket keep me warm. I just hope he doesn’t notice me constantly sniffing. He’s definitely ticking off all the boxes. I mean, damn. This date is perfect so far.
Dexter
We rumble down Madison in the Chevelle toward the United Center.
I can’t stop stealing glances over at Abigail. I think she might be more into my car than me.
Things seem to be going too good to be true. I didn’t mean to drop all that stuff about me and my mom on her, but she seemed to get it. She seems to just get me, more than I thought she would. Some part of my brain kept telling me she was too young, and this date would show me why we’re not compatible, then I could get her out of my mind. I mean, I still planned on trying to get laid. Let’s not be ridiculous here. The exact opposite has happened, though.
I’m drawn to her, like a moth to a fucking flame, and I don’t know how I’ll deal with it if this doesn’t work out. The feelings are already there. There’s a connection that already runs deep and we haven’t done anything more than kiss twice.
I keep trying to hold back but it’s not working. I don’t want to come on too strong, but every time I see her, I have this unbelievable urge to tell her everything on my mind and kiss the breath from her lungs.
She’s so confident and sexy, not afraid to show her true self. The more she talks, the more I want to know even more about her. We get to the arena, and I don’t know what to do. I should drop her off up front, but no way do I want to leave her up there alone while I park the car.
Why didn’t I think about this beforehand? I should’ve hired a car and a driver. Then it wouldn’t be as intimate, though. I wouldn’t have her all alone.
I drive around the block once and my hands tighten around the steering wheel. What the hell am I going to do? She’s gonna freeze in her little jacket she’s wearing.
Finally, I decide to just go park and then let her use my jacket again. I don’t ask because I know she’ll refuse it. It’s cold as balls out here. The wind cuts through the buildings and it’s like daggers on bare skin.
