I blinked at him, feeling the beginnings of a smile on my face, as he opened the door.
“There is one catch though,” he said with a grin. “There won’t be a barista to play ‘Closing Time’ to bail you out of this one.”
I laughed, unable to come up with words to describe how I felt.
“So what do you say, Skye? Will you go out on a date with me?” he asked, his eyes sparkling.
“Yes,” I said, nodding. “I absolutely want that.”
He smiled, nodding for me to step inside. I gasped as I walked in, taking in the scene. The lights were off, but it didn’t matter because countless white candles lined the register where he’d always stand, grinning at me, circled on the bar where I’d lean to watch him make latte art, and dotted the table where I always sat. Over the speakers, the playlist we’d created together was playing, and every discussion we’d had, every laugh we’d shared, every moment we’d rolled our eyes at each other, telling the other we didn’t know what love was, rushed to my mind.
“Dean,” I breathed, stepping to my table.
On it sat my favorite chocolates and two black coffees that I knew would be decaf. I laughed, covering my mouth with my hand, as I noticed French fries from the same place he’d got them for me after Krista’s engagement party when I’d said I wanted them more than I wanted a ring.
“This is…” I turned to him, pressing my hand against my whole heart beating in my chest, wanting to feel it, my palm over the moon and the stars, wanting to remember this moment. “This is perfect.”
He smiled as I sat down. “You deserve perfect, princess.”
I was unable to control the smile on my face as he sat down across from me, a visual I’d never thought I’d want but now I’d never forget.
★☽★★☽
I’d done the math. I’d run the scenarios in my head. Krista had my back. Mom had said she and Dad wouldn’t be hard on the guy who made me happy. Dad was open to my taking a photography class, knowing I hadn’t just been talking about camera clicks.
I was ready.
And I was also mildly panicking.
“Oh my god, do you think we should have brought flowers?” I asked, facing Dean as he drove to the out-of-towners welcome party. “When Kyle met my parents for the first time, he had flowers.”
Dean glanced at me, giving me a slightly weird look. “Wouldn’t it be strange if I showed up to a party with flowers for someone who isn’t even hosting it? Where would your mom sit them or do you expect her to just hold them the whole time?”
I chewed on my fingernail, not sure if he was right or not. “Well, maybe it would have been a nice gesture.”
“Eh, it feels insincere to me,” he said, pausing to look at me as he stopped at a red light. “Skye, are you okay? You’re kind of stressing me out, and I don’t really get stressed.”
I looked at him and shook my head. “No, I’m sorry. I mean, yes, I am stressed. But I’m sorry for being stressed.”
“Why are you stressed?” he asked. “Didn’t you say that you told your parents about us more than a month ago? Isn’t this just a nice-to-put-a-face-to-the-name kind of situation?”
“Um, right,” I said, turning to look out the window. “I mean, they know some stuff about you, but they definitely don’t know you.”
Dean nodded, considering this but not responding, distracted by his map’s directions. I glanced at him, studying him. Part of me had been nervous when he’d picked me up that he’d be in one of his classic artsy outfits. I’d immediately felt guilty for thinking that when he’d shown up in a nice black button-up, his olive green field jacket, fitted khakis without any holes or distressing, black leather loafers, no jewelry in sight.
“Oh,” I said suddenly as he parked in front of Kyle’s parents’ house. I quickly looked around, noticing my parents’ car was already here. “Football season started back up.”
Dean looked at me, completely confused. “What? Why are you telling me that?”
“If anything ever gets weird, just mention football,” I said as we got out of the car. I took a deep breath, smoothing my hands over my dress, trying to ignore that they were shaking.
“What? I can’t do that. I don’t know anything about football. Honestly, now that I think about it, I don’t even remember what Middletown’s football character is. That’s how little I know. I can’t even talk about the football characters.”
I stopped and faced him. “They aren’t football characters.”
He laughed and shook his head. “See? That’s how little I know. Also, what do you mean ‘if things get weird’?”
I took another breath. “Maybe we should go,” I said, stepping back to his car. “We don’t have to do this tonight.”
He gave me a deadpan look.
“Why don’t we go back to my place? Krista is gone, so we can finally hook up there,” I said, taking his hand, thinking that was a much better idea, but he pulled me away from his car.
“No, Skye, we’re doing what we already planned,” he said, putting his arm around my shoulders. “I don’t want your parents to think I commit to things and then bail. I don’t want them to hate me without even getting to know me.”
I nodded, trying to suppress the tightness in my stomach. “Right,” I said, taking another deep breath. “Okay.”
We walked up the driveway, passing my parents’ car, until we were standing in front of the door and there was no turning back unless I decided to ditch Dean and run. I looked over my shoulder, knowing I wouldn’t get that far in heels without falling and cracking my knee on the ground.
“This is going to be so bad,” I said under my breath as the door opened.
Dean glanced at me, and I wasn’t sure if he’d heard me. But I didn’t have time to ask because my mom stood right there. Krista hadn’t warned me that she’d put Mom on greeting duty. I’d thought we would have at least five minutes to scope out the scene, find the best spot where we were slightly visible but not accessible, where we could sneak out if we needed to.
“Mom,” I said, my voice tighter and higher than I expected.
“Honey, you look radiant,” she said, looking me up and down.
I looked at Dean, suddenly seeing him through her eyes. She’d immediately notice that just below the cuff of his khakis, his ankle tattoo peeked out, and she’d instantly spot the tattoo behind his ear and his hand tattoo. Somehow, after so many months, his hand tattoo was just such a part of him to me now that I hadn’t even thought about it until she reached her hand out to shake his right hand.
“Mom, this is Dean,” I said, hoping that maybe, for once in her life, she wouldn’t notice someone’s appearance. “Dean Cross. Um, my, uh … my…” I faltered as she looked down at his hand, shaking it, her expression changing just ever so slightly, shocked.
“Boyfriend,” Dean finished for me, glancing at me for one split second before smiling at her. “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Taylor. I’ve heard a lot of great things about you.”
“Oh?” she said, recovering easily, a pro at politeness. “I haven’t heard nearly enough about you. I’ve been so curious who has been keeping my youngest so busy,” she said with a light laugh. I knew she was referencing the past two family dinners I’d skipped, citing SGA as my excuse, when really, I’d been avoiding my dad. “Let me take your jackets, and we can get to know each other.”
My stomach dropped, knowing if she’d been shocked by his hand, she couldn’t handle his sleeve.
“Oh no,” I said, stepping forward, cutting her outstretched hand off from where she was offering to take his jacket. “Dean is, uh, cold-natured, so he’ll want to keep his jacket on. Where is Dad?”
“Cold-natured?” Dean repeated lowly as she looked around for Dad. I scanned the room, too, hoping there was enough time to make up some excuse to leave before he appeared.
“Yes,” I said, looking right at him, nodding. “You love keeping your arms warm.”
I couldn’t tell if he underst
ood based on the look he gave me.
“Hon, that’s nonsense,” Mom said, reaching out her hand again and slightly frowning at me. “I can’t have my guests showing up to a party and standing around in their jackets. It’ll look like you’re ready to leave in an instant. That would be rude.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, not sure which one of them I was talking to and closed my eyes as Dean slipped off his jacket at her insistence. The sleeves of his button-up were rolled up, revealing his colorful tattoos on full display, stark against the black of his shirt. Without the jacket, his collarbone tattoo peeked out just slightly, too.
“Oh,” Mom said, startled, unable to perfectly hide her surprise.
“Baby sis!” Krista’s voice rang out. She walked up, looking at Mom and me, both of with subtle pained expressions on our faces. “I’m so glad you were able to make it. You must be Dean,” she said, smiling brightly. “I’ve heard so much about you.”
He smiled at her. “It’s awesome to finally meet the infamous Krista,” he said, shaking her hand. Her eyes went to his sleeve and hand tattoo, but her smile didn’t waver. “Congrats on your engagement, but really, I guess, your upcoming wedding. The official countdown is seven days, right?” he said, putting his tatted hand in his pocket and glancing at me.
“A week that is going to fly by,” she said, lightly touching her sparkling ring. “I might need to borrow Skylar from you more than usual this week,” she said with a laugh.
I kind of laughed, glancing at Mom who didn’t think it was at all funny.
“But we have plenty of time to talk about my wedding,” Krista said, gently putting her arm around my shoulders. “Skylar can attest that’s all I’ll want to talk about. Let’s get you two a drink and, Dean, you can meet my fiancé, Kyle. Thanks for watching the door, Mom,” she said, expertly pulling us away.
“Oh my god,” I whispered to Krista as we walked into the kitchen. “This is a nightmare.”
Dean looked at me, and I shook my head. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean how that came out.”
“I have a feeling you’re going to be saying that a lot tonight,” he said as Krista stepped away to grab Kyle from the dining room.
“Dean, you don’t understand—”
Krista interrupted us, introducing my future brother-in-law to my boyfriend. Never had I seen a starker contrast between two guys. After they exchanged greetings, Kyle asked Dean what he thought about last night’s game.
“The game,” Dean repeated, glancing at me. “The football game.”
“What’s your team? Gotta know if we’re rivals or not, man,” Kyle said with a laugh.
“Uh, you know, I don’t really like to pick favorites. I think all the teams are cool … or maybe neutral,” Dean said as I shook my head. He frowned just slightly at me. “Actually, I don’t know,” he said, shrugging. “I don’t watch football.”
I sighed as Krista laughed. “Well, at least you’re honest,” she said, passing us both a glass of wine. “I can’t really get into sports either. I think the last game I watched was last year’s homecoming game. Gosh, I can’t believe that was almost a year ago.”
Dean and I looked at each other, remembering what we’d done for the first time in the backseat of his car that night. I blushed, and he smiled at me. Away from my mom’s careful gaze and close to my protective sister, I felt better, able to breathe easier now. I leaned my head against his shoulder, and he slipped his arm around my waist.
Krista beamed at us before being beckoned by someone I didn’t know. “I have to go meet some people I’m apparently about to be related to. Kyle, why don’t you stick with these two for a while, and then rescue me in five minutes?”
“Sure thing, babe,” he said, kissing her on the cheek before she effortlessly glided to a group of people, greeting them with a warm smile and a hug. A familiar pang of jealousy washed over me, wishing I could be more like her in this moment, but I pushed it away, choosing to be proud to be her sister instead.
Kyle and Dean made awkward small talk about the wedding and the weather as I drank my wine, glancing at the clock. I’d told Dean we would stay an hour, not a second longer.
We’d been here 11 minutes.
“Okay, I need to go play hero for a while,” Kyle said after five minutes, glancing to where Krista was still talking to the group of people, not at all looking like she needed to be rescued, her best pageant smile plastered on her face. “Oh, Skylar, I’ll tell your dad that you’re here. He said he was looking forward to your arrival.”
“No, don’t,” I said quickly, but not fast enough, as Kyle was already stepping out and toward Krista.
Dean sat down his glass of wine and my now-empty one.
“What is happening?” he asked, looking right at me. “I keep getting so many mixed signals from you.”
“Nothing is happening,” I said, shaking my head. “Are you really not going to drink tonight? Don’t you think that will look rude?”
“What? No, no one cares. Also, I can’t drink because I can’t eat anything. Everything is meat or cheese. I’d be buzzed off one glass.”
I groaned. “Shit, I forgot you are vegan.”
He kind of laughed. “You forgot? There’s no way you mean that.”
“Can’t you make an exception? Just this one time? It looks so rude if you don’t drink and don’t eat. My mom will notice.”
He made a face. “No, I can’t make an exception. Being vegan is part of who I am, Skye, you know that.”
I sighed, glancing over his shoulder and spotting my dad in the living room.
“Shit,” I said, grabbing his arm and pulling him out of eyeshot and into the dining room. “Look, if you end up meeting my dad, just don’t mention being vegan to him. He won’t get it. Grilling is probably his second favorite thing to football.”
“If I end up meeting your dad?”
I glanced at my watch. Twenty-one minutes.
“I don’t know, Dean. I don’t know what I’m saying. Maybe this was a mistak—”
“Skylar, hon,” Mom’s voice rang out, having left her post at the door and somehow finding us. “Your father wants to see you. He said he thought he saw you in the kitchen, but that you’d rushed out.”
She stopped at the doorway, looking Dean up and down, her disapproval just barely registering on her perfect, polite face. But after 22 years of being her daughter, I saw it plain and clear.
“Your father wants to see you,” she repeated, looking right at me. “And he doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”
Then she turned on her heel, knowing I’d follow. We walked back to the kitchen in silence where Dad was standing with Mom, Krista, and Kyle.
I held my breath, feeling my chest tighten, my whole body wanting to reject this, feeling exactly like I was stepping on stage, an overwhelming, blinding spotlight on me. I’d do anything to stop this feeling and get away. I looked at Dad, knowing Mom had warned him about the tattoos so he wouldn’t be caught off guard.
He was ready to meet Dean, even if I wasn’t.
“Let’s not do this,” I said, grabbing his hand and jerking him back, still out of earshot of my picture perfect family. “Dean, I can’t do this,” I said, my breath catching in my throat, my face flushing, my nerves pounding in my ears. “I can’t handle him being so disappoint—”
Dad didn’t wait for me to decide to step forward and introduce him to Dean, who looked at me now like he couldn’t believe what I’d just started to say. They smiled at each other, both calm and collected, shaking hands, exchanging pleasantries.
“So,” Dad said once we were all in place, two chinks in the circle we’d created in the kitchen, “how did you two meet?”
“We met on campus,” I answered quickly.
“In class?”
“No, we ran into each other in the coffee shop,” I said, trying my best to sound light and airy even though I could barely breathe over the knots in my stomach.
“Oh, yeah,” Kyle chimed in, trying
to be helpful, I was sure, per Krista’s direction. “Dean, I heard you have good insights on coffee. I actually hedge commodities futures, so I’d love to get your perspective on what beans you’re into.”
“Commodities futures?” Dean asked as if he hadn’t quite heard him right.
Kyle laughed good-naturedly. “I know, man, that’s not nearly as luxury as being an art dealer, but it’s good to save the companies a little bit of money, am I right?”
Dean looked at me, having no idea what Kyle was even saying.
“Why don’t we shelve the business talk for a later time?” I said, trying to force a laugh, seeing how Dad noticed that exchange just didn’t add up. “Um, Krista, why don’t you tell Dean how you and Kyle met? I bet your story is much more interesting than ours.”
As Krista told their story, some sort of meet-cute in class I’d heard a thousand times, I glanced at Dad. He looked at me, and my heart stopped, knowing in an instant he wasn’t happy.
“So, Dean, you went to Middletown University, too, right?” Krista said, segueing out of her story to bring the focus back to him, trying to be helpful, not understanding that was exactly what I didn’t want.
“Yeah, for a while—”
“But he’s twenty-six now, so he doesn’t go there anymore,” I interrupted, stepping forward slightly, feeling my dad’s gaze.
“What was your major?” Kyle asked. “I don’t think Skylar said. Maybe we had some finance classes together.”
“You wouldn’t have had classes together. Dean is two years older than you,” I said quickly, not able to handle another look from Dad.
“Well, that’s not always true, hon,” Mom said, coming to Kyle’s defense, and I knew, without a doubt, she would always prefer him over Dean, no matter how this conversation went. “When did you graduate, Dean? Several of the Junior League ladies have sons and daughters your age. I wonder if you know any of them.”
“Can you believe I’m going to graduate in six months,” I said, interrupting again as he opened his mouth to answer. “And then I’ll go to my job that you all are proud of me for. I’m so excited. Krista, do you remember what you wore on your first day of work?”
A Guy Like Him Page 32
