by Elle Wright
My relationship with alcohol was complicated. Sure, I enjoyed a beer with my homeboys every now and then. And I didn’t mind taking a shot of tequila or having Jameson with my cigar. But drinking just to be drinking was not my thing. I’d seen the effects of addiction on someone’s life. I had a firsthand seat to the destruction too much liquor could cause, and I didn’t want that for myself—or anyone I loved.
“Hey?”
I closed my eyes. Dallas’ voice was like balm on dry, cracked skin. Soothing, soft. I felt her eyes on me, watching me, seeing me. Still, I couldn’t face her; I didn’t want to show her even a glimpse of the turmoil I knew would be swimming in my eyes. It was best to keep that to myself, to hide that part of my life from her.
“Preston?” she called again.
“What?” I murmured, keeping my gaze trained on my glass.
She placed her hand on top of mine and squeezed. “You… Um. You… Shit.”
Unable to help myself, I peered over at her. Dallas was many things. But she was never someone who stumbled over her words. The fact that she was having a hard time articulating amused me. It also intrigued me.
She blew out a quick breath. “So… Yeah. I know we don’t really do…” She covered her forehead with her hand and muttered something incoherent. “What I’m trying to say is…you can talk to me. If you want to,” she added under her breath.
I barked out a laugh. The words were good, and I believed she was sincere, but the delivery sucked.
Dallas shoved me. “Don’t laugh at me. I’m serious.”
I searched her eyes. “I know.”
She smirked, drawing my attention to the dimple on her right cheek. Dallas was a beautiful woman. It didn’t matter if she wore jeans and a T-shirt, a business suit, a dress, or a ripped, dusty softball uniform. Smooth brown skin. Large expressive eyes. Curvaceous hips. Despite my best efforts to appear unaffected by her, I usually failed. Because I always wanted to kiss her, to touch her, to hold her.
That night in October had done nothing to dampen my desire for her. In fact, it’d only made every woman who’d come after her pale in comparison. And it wasn’t just the sex—which was definitely unforgettable. It was just her.
Over the years, I’d dated many different types of women. Some older than me, others younger than me. Women who loved sports, ladies who loved the ballet. Women who worked corporate jobs and women who worked on the assembly line at an automotive plant. Dallas ran circles around all of them. She was consistent, intentional, honest. Always thinking, always moving. Never stagnant. She spoke her mind, and she knew when to be quiet—sometimes. I knew what I was going to get with her. I also knew I could trust her, even if she didn’t think she could trust me.
“You look…” She licked her bottom lip. “You’re sad.”
I wasn’t surprised she’d recognized the sadness. She’d grown up with parents who studied and taught the human mind. Many of her siblings had followed in their footsteps and had become therapists. Although Dallas didn’t work in the field, she’d majored in psychology in undergrad.
“Yeah,” I admitted, shocking myself.
“I meant what I said, you know? I’m here to listen, if you want to talk.”
Talk. Listen. The words were simple but loaded at the same time. She was offering me a lifeline, but I wasn’t sure I could use it. In the end, I decided not to. “Thanks, but I don’t want to think about it.”
“Okay.” She waved the bartender over and ordered onion rings. Glancing at me, she grinned. “What? I’m hungry now and I deserve fried food.”
I chuckled. “Because you played softball?”
“Hell yeah. And I won the game.”
I gave her a high-five. “Alright. Is there any footage?”
She winced visibly. “No comment.”
“Uh-oh. Let me guess, one of your siblings took a video.”
Dallas picked up her glass of water and gulped it down. “No comment,” she repeated.
“Hey, Sissy.” Blake joined us at the bar. “We’re about to head out. Lennox has a speech to write.”
“Damn.” Dallas’ shoulders fell. “I ordered onion rings.”
“You’re just now ordering food?” Lennox asked, approaching us. He looked at his watch. “It’s late.”
“It’s a treat,” Dallas said. “For saving your ass in that game today, brotha Lennox. Since you nearly lost us the game by striking out.”
“Um, ma’am,” Blake said. “Don’t come for my man.”
“Matter of fact,” Dallas continued, “I was so distracted by the pain shooting down my leg that I forgot we’d placed a side wager on this game. I think you owe me some money, Professor.” She did the cabbage patch dance, then mimicked a mic drop. “Boom!”
I covered my mouth, once again amused by the woman sitting next to me. She really was a breath of fresh air. I’d been around the Young family many times. Barbecues, events, birthday parties. Every single time, they’d treated me like I was part of their clan. Being the only child, I appreciated that.
Lennox groaned and slapped a fifty-dollar bill on the bar top. “You got me. Dinner on me.”
Dallas picked up the bill, held it up to the light, and stuffed it in her pocket. “Thanks. Next time, double or nothing.”
Yawning, Blake asked, “Can you get those onion rings to go? Dex left with some chick, and Tristan? He disappeared like he always does. And you know Asa. He ain’t taking nobody home. So, we’re dropping you off.”
Dallas opened her mouth to speak. “I—”
“I’ll take her,” I offered.
Dallas blinked.
Blake placed her palm under her sister’s chin and pushed her mouth closed. “Thanks, Preston.” She patted my shoulder, then whispered something in Dallas’ ear. She cracked up when Dallas pushed her away.
“Get your ass out of here, heffa,” Dallas grumbled through clenched teeth.
Curious, I asked, “What’s up?”
Blake smirked. “She’s—”
Dallas covered her sister’s mouth. “She’s leaving. Bye, Blake.”
Lennox and Blake said their goodbyes and walked away.
We sat there in silence for a moment before Dallas turned to me. “My sister talks too much.”
“What did she say?”
“Nothing,” she chirped. “Never mind.”
Several minutes later, the bartender set a plate of onion rings in front of her and the bottle of ketchup. She immediately picked a ring up and bit into it, groaning with delight.
“Good, huh?” I asked.
She gestured toward her plate. “Want one? They’re delicious.”
“No, thanks.”
“I wish I knew how to cook. I would make these all the time.” She dipped another onion ring into her ketchup. “When Duke comes to town, I always bribe him to do it.”
A couple of months ago, I went with Dallas to her brother’s couples cooking class. I found out then just how untalented she was in the kitchen. The steak had been so tough, I’d had to stop and get something else to eat on my way home. “Have you thought about learning to do it yourself?”
She paused, onion ring midair. Glancing at me out of the corner of her eye, she shook her head. “Hell no. That’s what chefs are for, right?”
I laughed. “You’re a trip.”
“We’ve already established that cooking is not my gift. The most I can do is cut up vegetables, because I was always early to help my mother cook for Thanksgiving. That damn Blake purposely came late so she wouldn’t have to peel the potatoes for the potato salad.” Dallas continued munching on her food and talking about random shit, like celery and green peppers. She’d gone through all the ingredients of her mother’s famous potato salad and was now telling me she’d tried to sneak pre-cooked boiled eggs into her mom’s house one year. “Mom made me go to the store and buy more. I had to peel all those mugs too. I hate that.”
“Is there anything you can cook?” I wondered aloud.
�
��Oh, yeah. I can bake chicken. Oh, and I can make rice—” she covered her face, “—in the rice cooker?” I didn’t realize I was smiling until she said, “Why are you smiling? ‘Cause I’m pitiful?”
Because you’re beautiful. “Not even a little bit,” I told her.
“Do you cook?” she asked, pouring more ketchup on her plate. “I mean, I’ve known you for years and—”
“We really don’t know each other,” I finished for her.
A moment passed. “Maybe we should do better?”
“I’m ready if you are.”
“Is this awkward for you?” she asked.
The question threw me off, but I quickly recovered. “How so?”
“That we’re sitting here by ourselves, learning things about each other we never bothered to learn before.”
I leaned closer and whispered, “Why is that?”
Her gaze dropped to my lips. “We had sex.”
Dallas had this uncanny ability to catch me off guard. I wasn’t expecting her to bring up Halloween, but talking about that instead of my personal shit was better any day. “We did.”
“Yeah, but before that, we didn’t really have much alone time.”
“By design?”
She eyed me skeptically. “Maybe.” She hitched a shoulder. “I don’t know. But just so we’re clear, I don’t want to talk about it now, either.”
I laughed again. “Tell me how you really feel.”
“I just did.”
“You brought it up, though.”
“Only because I wanted to say something else.”
“Something else that has nothing to do with sex?”
“Exactly.” She stretched a bit. “I’m going to be stiff. You might have to help me off this stool.”
“Still sore from that game-winning slide into home base?”
She snickered. “Very. I’m never doing that shit again. Anyway, I brought it up because we’re alone now. The last time we were alone, we got busy.”
“I recall that night a little differently.”
Arching a brow, she said, “What is your recollection?”
“We had an unspoken conversation and decided to explore an avenue.”
“That’s one way to put it.”
“Then you said we wouldn’t talk about it again,” I continued.
“And you agreed.”
“I didn’t say anything that night. You set the rules.”
Dallas placed her hands in her lap. “Did you want to talk about it?”
“Talk is not really the right word, Dallas.”
“What is the right word, then?”
“Repeat,” I said.
She sucked in a deep breath, then stood. “It’s time to go.” She started to shuffle away but stopped. “I meant it’s time for me to go home and you to go to your house. With no detours to the bathroom.”
With a smirk, I nodded. “Whatever you want.”
During the short drive to Dallas’ house, we didn’t talk much. But it was just as well. As much as I’d enjoyed my time with her, I knew it wouldn’t last. Dallas’ ability to compartmentalize her emotions and feelings was only rivaled by one person—me. I understood what was at play here. And I would respect her wish to keep things distant.
“Thanks for helping me up these steps.” Dallas unlocked her front door and opened it. “Tonight was alright, Preston. I had a good time, even though my hip is on fire from sitting on that barstool.” She stepped inside her house and kicked off her shoes. “I really need to take a bath.”
Am I supposed to go in with her? The fact that she was still talking to me, and not closing the door in my face, prompted me to follow her inside. “Do you need anything?” I shut the door behind me.
She glanced at me over her shoulder. “Only if you got those healing hands.” She let out a cute giggle and lowered herself to a chair. “Just kidding. All I need is a good soak.”
I tried to recall if I’d ever been inside her home without a buffer. Nope. The architect in me had catalogued the design elements of the house, the wall color, the trim, the type of doors she had, the thickness of the dark hardwood flooring, the open flow from the living room to the kitchen. But I’d never really paid attention to the décor, the tiny pieces of herself displayed around the room, the pictures of those she loved placed on shelves. I picked up a small picture of her, Duke, and Dexter—The Triples, as I’d heard them called before. In it, Dallas was in the middle, flanked by her brothers. Protected. It looked like they might’ve been at a picnic or something, because they were dressed casually, and Duke had a basketball in his free hand. I’d watched her and Coop with their respective siblings. It always felt like I’d missed something important in my own life, something valuable, something priceless.
Wasting time on “what-ifs” had never been my thing, but now that I knew I had a different father, I couldn’t help but wonder if I had siblings out there somewhere.
“Still don’t want to talk about it?” she asked.
I caught Dallas’ pained look when I met her gaze. “Maybe you should take some Advil or Aleve?” I suggested.
She rested her leg on the ottoman. “I’m okay. Are you?”
I sighed, torn between telling her everything and telling her nothing. Earlier, she’d effectively doused my hope for a repeat when she’d ended our conversation, which was okay. But I couldn’t help but wonder why I was there.
A knock on the front door pulled me out of my thoughts.
“Oh, shit. Who the hell is that?” She struggled to get up from her chair. I helped her up. “Thanks,” she murmured, walking to the door slowly. “Coop!” she shouted when she opened the door. She smacked him. “I said I would kick your ass on sight, but I’m too happy you’re not dead from alcohol poisoning.”
I grinned, grateful Coop had finally come to tell her his news. I gave him dap. “I’m glad you came by, man. I was tired of the interrogation.”
Coop thanked me for not telling his business. Then, he glanced at Dallas, then me, then back at Dallas. I could tell his mind was running with the possibilities. “What are you doing at Dallas’ house anyway?” he asked.
“Leaving.” She nudged me out the door. The bubble we’d been in had finally burst, which I’d expected. And knowing Dallas, she wouldn’t want anyone to think there was more going on here than it was. Especially since I knew she’d been dealing with PR issues.
Cooper narrowed his eyes, studying both of us. “Right.” He crossed his arms. “Listen, I can’t stay, but I wanted to tell you in person. I’m moving to Rosewood Heights. Tonight.”
Dallas’ eyes widened and a slow smile spread across her lips. “Because you’re in love with Angel.” When Cooper confirmed her suspicion, she cheered. “I knew it!” She pulled him into a hug, then smacked him again. “That’s for planning a move to a whole ‘nother state without telling me. You’re lucky Charleston is a short flight away. Punk.”
Cooper smiled. I’d never seen my best friend so happy, and considering what he’d been through, I thought it was about time. “Thank you, Dallas,” he said. “You were right.”
“I’m right 99.999% of the time,” Dallas said with a shrug.
“Yeah, I’m not agreeing to that.” Coop told us he had to go and assured Dallas he’d leave his phone on. He gave her another hug and me another dap. Before he left, he reminded me of our conference call next Monday. I wished him luck, and Dallas and I watched him hop in his truck and drive away.
Then, I was alone with Dallas again, only this time I was standing outside the door. “I need to get going,” I told her.
She slipped her hand in mine and tugged, stopping my retreat. “Wait.”
I peered at her, wanting nothing more than to tuck that errant strand of her hair behind her ear. “Yes?”
Stepping close to me, so close I could smell the hint of her soap, so close I could rest my forehead on hers, she said, “I hope I was able to keep your mind off your troubles.” She searched my face, smoothed her
thumb over mine. “Sometimes life happens so fast, you just need to slow it down. It helps to think about everything else but what’s weighing you down.”
I stared down at her sincere eyes. Sitting with me alone, talking about random shit, joking… That wasn’t Dallas. At least, that wasn’t the Dallas I knew. The realization that she’d completely stepped out of her own comfort zone for me made me want to pull her closer, to carry her inside. But I knew that couldn’t happen right now. Instead, I nodded. “Thank you.” Saying anything more wasn’t an option. While I wanted to share with her what had happened, I didn’t think it was wise to bare my soul tonight. “Take some meds. I hope you feel better.”
“I’ll get there. I have no choice. You don’t either.”
“Right.”
She gave me a hug. Damn, she felt good, she felt right. I allowed myself to sink into the embrace, burying my nose in her hair and letting her hold me for as long as she wanted to. I needed this. I needed someone calm, someone strong.
Eventually, and all too soon, she pulled away. Smiling, she whispered, “Drive safe, Preston.”
I hesitated, because I didn’t want to walk away from this. Dallas hadn’t said anything to indicate tonight was anything more than a friend helping a friend, but it felt different. It felt like we’d crossed a line. It was more than bathroom sex, deeper than a quick fuck.
Unable to stop myself, I reached out and brushed my thumb over her cheek. “Dallas,” I murmured.
She sucked in a deep breath. “Yes?”
I probably could’ve asked to stay, but I wouldn’t. When or if I spent the night with Dallas, she would have to initiate it. “Thanks,” I whispered. A moment later, I backed away, waved at her, and headed to my truck. As I drove home, her words replayed in my mind. Dallas was right. My time to wallow was up. I was thankful for the small reprieve from my inner turmoil, for the time we’d spent together. It had helped more than words could say. Tomorrow, I’d start working through it and figuring everything out.
Chapter Five
Pick Up Your Feelings
Dallas
