“Actually, I did. He’s in the hall, I’m sure he’ll be in here in a sec.”
Bennett gives me a concerned and confused look to which I respond with a slight “let it go” shake of my head. It’s about twelve minutes, not that I was keeping track, before Dane joins us. I don’t look at him but rather stare straight ahead at Bennett. She looks like a crazy cat lady glancing quickly back and forth between us, frantically trying to figure out what’s just happened. You’d have to be asleep to not feel the tension in the room.
I’m trying to understand. I’m not unfamiliar with the whole obsessed fan thing, but he has to be stringing her along or something. I mean, it’s all the time—she calls him, she always knows where to find him, and now she seems to be able to lure him into a secret hallway rendezvous. It pisses me off to think I’m hurting Evan for a player, but that can’t be right...my instincts are screaming at me that Dane simply isn’t a player and basing my decision on Evan solely off whether or not this thing with Dane is real, well, that’d make me the biggest player of all.
Evan deserves better than to be a wishy-washy girl’s fallback guy. Evan deserves someone’s fire, someone’s all-consuming passion, and someone’s love; nothing less. He should be someone’s everything.
Dane makes his plate and comes to sit down by me. He says “welcome back” out loud but whispers, “I need to talk to you.”
I want so badly to play it off and give him the jealous girl cold shoulder, but I just can’t make myself do it. I’ve told Dane all along that I don’t want to play games so I have to stick to that. I hitch up my big girl panties and head to the hall, indicating to him non-verbally to follow me.
He steps in the hall, clicking the door shut behind him, nervously moving towards me. “So, about Whitley...it’s not what you think.” He runs a hand through his sexy brown hair, messing it up just right.
“I’m not sure what I think, to be perfectly honest with you.”
“What do you want me to do? I can’t change my number; too many important people have it. I can’t get a restraining order.” He shakes his head and looks down. “What do you suggest I do? Tell me and I’ll do it. I don’t want to be a dick, but I can’t get her to leave me alone.”
“You could block her number. You could keep walking and ignore her. I refuse to believe she physically contains you.”
He leans into me, teasing me with his musky scent and his hot breath. “I could tell her my woman’s getting mad and is gonna kick her ass,” he whispers, running his hands down my arms until he links his fingers with mine. I gulp, not ready to forgive him just because he talks purty and lights up my whole body.
“You just want to see a cat fight, you hornball.
You’re as bad as Sawyer.”
“Mmmmm,” he hums as his lips and nose graze my neck, “I could watch you do anything. If that happens to be a cat fight, so be it.” He chuckles slightly into my skin, earning my forgiveness with the fire it shoots through me.
“Come on,” I roll my eyes and pull him to the room.
The tension fizzles and I know everyone is grateful. The night turns out very fun with lots of laughter. I almost forget all about the Whitley thing...almost.
Even after our little spat about Whitley, or the teeny tiff over the night I promised to call him after talking to Evan and forgot, or less-than-happy texts due to having almost no time for him this week because of late practices...Dane has still been wonderful, greeting me with dinner and a massage every night, no matter the time.
By Thursday, fatigue is about to completely take over. He shows up at my room around eight, and after we say our goodbyes to Bennett and Tate, who are on their way to some new movie Bennett’s been raving about, he settles beside me on my bed, stroking my hair gently. “What time do you have class tomorrow?” he asks softly.
“Only one class tomorrow at three then ball at five-thirty,” I reply through a yawn.
“So nothing until three? Why don’t you come home with me tonight, baby? I can pamper you all night and most of tomorrow.”
It sounds wonderful and new life springs into me at the thought of it, but I haven’t met his parents yet; will they be there? Thinking about it, I talk about my dad all the time. Hell, I’ve even told him bits and pieces about my mom, who might be a Buddhist hiding in the mountains for all I know, and he’s never said anything about his own parents.
“What about your parents? I don’t want them to meet me as the floozy creeping in after dark.”
He shakes his head. “They won’t be there, baby, just us. Well, that’s not entirely true. Helen, the housekeeper, will be there for a bit in the morning.” He gives me a slow, lingering kiss. “But I’m hoping you sleep through her visit.”
Even I, fog girl, know what he’s insinuating. Am I ready?
“No, Laney, you just need your rest.”