“And so, I guess this is kind of a strange question for a cooking show, but…” Eric took a deep breath. “Yes. I… I love Dash. As a colleague, a friend, and just overall as a human being. He’s probably one of the most incredible people I’ve ever met.”
I had to tell myself repeatedly in my head: you will not cry on live TV. You will not. You will not.
Eric looked to me again, nervously, before looking back at the camera. “And so, guys, that’s our show! It’s been such a good season, and we will be back with new episodes in a little over a month. Be sure to check out our website in the meantime for all the recipes you’ve seen here—and we will see you next time on Eric & Dash!”
The audience erupted into cheers and actually got up out of their seats as the end credit music played, and Eric and I waved to the crowd.
I waved, calmly and methodically, even though I was torn to pieces inside.
Holy fuck, what Eric had said had shot straight to my heart and I was completely floored by it. Did he mean that? Could it be possible that he really felt that way about me? My head was spinning, but soon Andrea and my parents and various other crew members descended upon us, overtaking the set, covering us in hugs and congratulations and excitement. There was no time for me to dwell, no time at all to think about the fact that Eric had just said he loved me on live television.
And the scariest part of it was that it made me realize that I might feel the same way. It went against everything I’d planned, but I couldn’t deny that I had been falling for Eric since I’d met him.
We all ended up at the wrap party for the season finale—Eat Network had rented out a large ballroom at a fancy hotel, and given us an open bar and free food. The party was bigger and better attended than any of the other events they’d thrown for us so far, and almost from the moment we walked in, we were bombarded with more greetings and congratulations, from people I knew and people I was sure I’d never met.
Within an hour I’d had more free drinks than I needed, and I didn’t know if it was the alcohol or my own stupidity that kept me looking for Eric, searching the room for him, and only finding him sometimes.
After escaping the embrace of an older woman who called me “Dan” and said she loved the show, I wandered to a table that was covered in mini bite-sized cheesecakes and found my parents there.
“Dash, these are really something,” my mom said, her eyes wide as she ate one of the strawberry-topped cakes. “This is my third one!”
“I’m more partial to the chocolate mousse,” my dad said, plucking another off the table.
“They do tend to have good food at these events,” I said, looking back up and scanning the room for Eric again. I saw him in a nearby group of people, talking animatedly.
“Honey,” my mom said, coming closer and putting an arm on my shoulder, “Do you think Eric would meet us now?”
I scrunched my face. “Ah, um… maybe,” I said, reaching over the table and grabbing one of the glasses of champagne, gulping down half the glass at once, bubbles burning down my throat.
“Look, Dashie, he’s free now, those people he was talking to just left. Go on and bring him over,” she said, in that voice that meant there was no way I could say no to her.
I took a deep breath, finished the rest of the champagne, then started over toward him like I was facing a firing squad. I hadn’t spoken to him since we had broken up, and had no idea if he would be angry with me or whether he’d speak to me at all anywhere but on set. As I approached him, for a minute he didn’t see me, and I caught him putting an entire mini quiche in his mouth right before I reached his side and tapped on his arm.
He turned to me, eyes wide, and mouth full of food. “Mmm,” he mumbled, unable to speak yet, and I had to wait there awkwardly as he finished. I looked at my shoes, at my watchless wrist, at my nails, then up at the ceiling before he finally spoke, after what seemed like an eternity.
“Dash,” he said, with a nervous laugh, one that wasn’t accompanied by a smile. “Oh God, sorry about that, remind me next time not to eat a whole quiche at once.”
“Yeah, that’s probably dangerous at an event like this. Someone’s gonna get a photo of you with your mouth full of food.”
“That would be nothing new.” He nodded quickly, still looking at me like he was shocked I was even near him. “What’s up, Dash?”
I opened my mouth, turning to look behind me and seeing that my parents were still waiting a few paces away, staring intently at me. “Uh… I…” I sighed deeply, and then started talking way too fast. “My parents want to meet you and trust me, my mom isn’t going to take no for an answer so you should probably just come over and say hi. I’m sure someone will come steal you away soon anyway, so you can just—”
“I’d love to,” Eric said, and I was so glad he’d saved me from the relentless stream of words that were coming out of my mouth.
“You would?” I said.
He nodded, and I saw him take a deep breath. “Let’s do it now though before my brain has time to freak out about wanting to impress them.”
We walked back over toward them, and then the four of us were together. My heart raced as I made the introductions. I wasn’t sure how Eric would react, if he would freeze up or not—but from an outside perspective he seemed perfectly cool, calm and collected. I knew he wasn’t, and I could see his little tells: I’d learned by now how his smile looked when he was nervous, and how he spoke a little faster.
But otherwise… it was normal. He was even making small talk with my parents.
“So how have you been liking San Diego?” he asked.
“Oh, it’s just wonderful,” my mom said, shaking her head slowly and smiling. “We went to the zoo and saw a panda—when we first got there, he was just lying around, but then he started rolling over and eating those leaves and oh, it was just the sweetest thing—they really do eat—I’ve got photos here on my cell phone, you know, they’re not the best photos, since I have no idea how to zoom on this thing—but oh hell, let me get it out and show you—”
“Ma, you really don’t have to show him the zoo photos,” I started to say, trying to save Eric from the fusillade of her attention. But he had already crossed over and was looking down at the phone, talking to her about the times he had seen the pandas at the zoo. Somehow the conversation changed to my mother’s quilting group, and then came perilously close to veering into my mother’s stories from growing up in New Jersey, when my dad helped extricate Eric. After a minute Eric asked my dad the same question.
“And how about you, Mr. Thompson? Is this your first time in San Diego?”
He nodded. “Sure is. It’s great so far, and really, Eric, I really got a kick out of seeing you two film tonight, but I still haven’t found my mug.”
Oh God.
“Your mug?” Eric asked.
“It’s nothing—really—” I attempted, but was steamrolled by my father.
“Well, you see, I collect mugs from every place I travel. I’ve got ‘em from Paris, Memphis, Detroit, and even one from Toronto, Canada—but I have yet to find one here in San Diego. And I’m not just looking for a standard kind of mug—I want something a little more interesting, a little more unique. Do you know of any places I might want to go for something like that?”
“Well, actually…” Eric started talking, listing off all kinds of little shops in town where my dad might be able to find a mug, but I tuned out because I realized the incredible thing that was happening: Eric was not only talking to my parents, but doing it with flying colors. At this rate, I thought that they would probably prefer to have him as a son instead of me. He was charming them.
“Eric and Dash! Just the people I’m looking for!” a deep voice called from behind us. Eric paused his conversation with my father about ceramic mugs and we looked behind us to see one of the event photographers with his huge camera in hand. “Let’s get some photos of the happy couple, shall we?”
For a second I was confused and thought he may have b
een referring to my parents before my logic kicked in and I remembered he was talking about us.
“Oh, uh, okay,” I said, going to stand next to him. I put my arm around him, really a friendly gesture more than a romantic one, and the photographer snapped a few photos.
“Come on, come on, like you mean it!” he said, urging us to get in closer.
I scooted a little closer to Eric’s body and could feel his warmth against my side. The camera flashed a few more times before I felt Eric leaning toward me.
And then he was pressing a kiss to my cheek, holding it there, letting the photographer click away. “That’s what I was looking for! Thank you, Eric Ronson!”
I could feel the heat on my cheeks, and I couldn’t figure out whether I wanted to smile or cry. Emotion flooded through me, and feeling his lips against me, despite everything, was something I wanted so fucking badly. When Eric pulled away a little, I turned my face toward him to look at him.
I was planning to roll my eyes at him.
But when I turned, he met my eyes with a smile, and leaned in and kissed my lips before I could realize it was happening, and thank God the party was loud because I couldn’t help but let out a little moan. The kiss was sweeter than would have been necessary just for a photo. It felt good and insane all at once.
I thought of when he’d said earlier that night, to a public audience, that he loved me. And even though it might have just been for TV, the thought made me lean into his kiss even more. Even if it wasn’t real, I wanted to have it. Just for that moment.
Because I hadn’t told him yet that after tonight, I might never see him again.
Seventeen
Eric
Somehow I always found myself on the outdoor patio at parties like this.
Maybe it was just because I liked to move around, feel fresh air after hours of alcohol and social interaction, or check out the different people outside.
But tonight I’d gone back out onto the large patio, complete with an outdoor bar and fire pits, because I knew if I stayed inside one more minute with Dash I would be liable to go nuts. Because I knew I was going to lose all of this soon. He’d said he wanted to scale back on our “fake” relationship, and had made it abundantly clear that the real one was over.
But his kiss didn’t feel like that. Not at all. It felt like what I should have been doing all night.
So after the photographer left, and Andrea had come and swept me away from Dash’s wonderful parents to talk about the cute guy she’d met, I escaped by myself onto the patio. To clear my head, to escape the manic party for a moment.
So far it seemed like the right choice: there were plenty of people outside, but the general vibe was less crazy; people were chatting and drinking and a few of them seemed surprised that I was out there. There was a view of the city lights from one corner of the patio and I went over, leaning against a large stone column, enjoying its cool press through the fabric of my blazer, sipping little by little on my glass of champagne.
I only made it five minutes before I saw Dash appear at my side.
“Hi,” he said, his voice low. His eyes sparkled even in the dimmer evening light.
“Hey,” I said back.
“I thought I might find you here.”
“Yep. Ah… your parents doing okay?”
He smiled a little, nodding. “They’d had enough partying, so I walked them out to one of the taxis. They had a great night, though.”
“They seem incredible, Dash.”
He puffed out a laugh. “Easy for you to say, you only just met them. Trust me, they get to be irritating.”
I shrugged. “All parents do,” I said.
His voice got quieter. “Eric, I really owe you an apology. I know I should have just told you the truth, but Jesus, I freaked out, and…”
“Are you kidding?” I said. “You were absolutely right. I was asking for too much, too soon. I understand completely, so don’t sweat it, Dash.”
He turned to me, meeting my eyes. “I really am sorry, though. You deserve better, Eric,” he said, gazing at me.
I shook my head, turning back to look out at the city lights. Suddenly I couldn’t really bear to look at him, and I thought if I kept doing so, I might cry. And God knows I didn’t need that at a party with a bunch of photographers.
“Howcome you’re out here with me?” I asked, my voice coming out sounding strange and cracked.
I heard him sigh softly. “Because I want to be,” he said, “I know it’s stupid, but… it really is true.”
We were silent for a moment, and I didn’t know what to do next, didn’t know what I could say without saying too much.
“So, what next, boyfriend?” I said to him with a crooked smile, half-attempting a joke. But when I looked at him he wasn’t smiling, he looked so serious it actually kind of hurt.
“What’s next is you tell me what you meant when you said that stuff on live TV earlier. And then… and then I have something I need to tell you, too.”
My heart sort of leapt in my chest as I thought about what he might mean.
“You wanna talk more about the pandas in the zoo? I mean, your mom really did seem to love them, and it’s true that I have been there a lot—”
“Stop deflecting,” Dash said, his eyes still serious. “You know what I’m talking about.”
“I know what you’re talking about,” I said, swallowing and wondering if I was about to pass out.
Because it had been one thing saying I loved Dash on TV. Strangely it felt like a safe cocoon, saying it there, because even though it was in front of tons of people, it was more impersonal. Dash couldn’t push the matter, or I knew he wouldn’t, live on TV. I knew it would be left there in the studio, and that maybe he wouldn’t bring it up to me later.
But clearly he was. And now I was pinned like a moth, with the chaotic party too far away to escape back to. It was just me and him, there on the side of the patio, and I had to own up to what I had said.
It felt like eternity passed by but it probably was only a minute before Dash spoke again.
“Did you mean it?” he said, his voice barely a whisper.
I swallowed hard, then looked down at him, holding his intense gaze. I nodded my head.
“I meant it,” I said. “Yes.”
His gaze didn’t waver but I heard him sigh, and his eyebrows lifted just the tiniest, nearly imperceptible bit.
“I know I’m an idiot, Dash,” I said, my words getting ahead of me, “but I also know that I’ve never felt like this about anyone, before, and God it just… it can’t be anything but love.”
Finally he closed his eyes, and I felt slightly less guilty about what I was saying.
“And I know I’ve blown my chance with you, a long time ago, and I don’t deserve someone like you. At all. But I had to say it. I couldn’t say anything but the truth. I couldn’t stand there and be asked if I love you and say no—because I can’t lie to you. And I hope you know now you don’t have to lie to me, either.”
“Fuck,” Dash said softly, bringing a hand to his face and pressing it tight over his eyes before dropping it again. He looked at me with an expression I couldn’t read.
“I hope you don’t regret meeting me, Dash,” I whispered.
“Oh, God, Eric,” he said, his voice constricted.
And then his arms were around my shoulders, pulling me in tight, and his lips were on mine. He kissed me deeply, running his hand through my hair, and pressing our bodies tightly together, and feeling him against me was enough to make me moan into his mouth. It was so much. And it was nothing like the kiss in front of the photographer—although that had been real for me, and sweet, and tender—but this was something else entirely. Like Dash was giving himself to me, despite everything.
“What are you doing?” I asked when he pulled away, his face still near mine.
He just shook his head. “God, I tried so hard,” Dash said.
“Tried to do what?” my voice was a little sh
aky, and I kept my hands placed on his hips.
“Tried to be without you.”
I let out a bitter laugh. “Yeah, I noticed. I’ve honestly hated every moment without you since I met you.”
“Eric, I… I’m about to say something to you that I kind of can’t believe. But you’re right—I can’t lie to you ever again. So I’m going to say it.”
“Please tell me whatever you need to.”
“I’ve been… trying so hard to not want you Eric.”
“It’s okay if you don’t. I know why you wouldn’t trust me, after my history, and I don’t blame you for that.”
“But it isn’t working,” he said, clearly and forcefully.
My eyes widened, and I watched him closely, furrowing my brow.
“I have tried so fucking hard to forget you, to act like I wasn’t falling in love with you. But it just doesn’t fucking work, Eric.”
“Oh my God,” I whispered, reaching up and catching his cheek in my hand.
“I know. I know. But I’m…” he trailed off a little, before meeting my eyes again. “I love you too, Eric.”
I let out a breath and felt like my heart was going to leap out of me. I realized my hands were shaking as I pulled him in close to me again. “Oh my God,” I said, not knowing what else I could possibly say. “Dash, please don’t say this to me unless you mean it. Do you mean that?”
“Finally I can let myself say it and mean it. But it’s been true the whole time, Eric.”
“You are amazing,” I whispered.
“Amazing or an idiot, I don’t know which,” he said with a little laugh and a sniffle, and I realized a couple of tears had fallen to his cheeks. I wiped them away with the pad of my thumb.
“You said… you had something to tell me. So tell me, Dash. I want you to be able to tell me anything.”
He took a deep, shaky breath. “Well. Actually I was going to tell you that I’m quitting Eric & Dash.”
My heart sank in my chest as quickly as it had risen. “Oh… are you…”
“But,” he said, “I’m going to give it a week or two before I make any decisions. Last thing I need is another hasty decision under my belt. For once I’m going to think it over.”
The Sweetest Star: Under the Stars Book 2 Page 18
