Dane’s waiting on the porch as I pull into his driveway. He’s wearing a plain white t-shirt, gray sweats that hang achingly low on his narrow hips, and no shoes. He’s positively mouthwatering and I don’t feel a bit bad that I take my time with the view.
He stays put as I make my way to him, my hands full of presents. “Let me help you. These better not all be for me,” he grumbles.
I follow him in the house, butterflies playing tag in my stomach; melancholy Dane makes me very nervous.
He sets the presents down and turns. “Let me take your coat.”
I shrug it off slowly, suddenly not sure how long I’ll be staying, and watch him closely as he hangs it in the hall closet. “Where are Tate and Bennett?”
“I gave him that end of the house,” he motions with his head, “so we don’t drive each other crazy.” He fights back a smile.
I wrap my arms around my middle, needing some warmth from somewhere. Dane’s usually warm brown eyes are cold, as is his whole demeanor. “Are your parents’ home?” I shift my eyes away from him, looking nowhere really.
He snorts. “No, Laney, no one else is here, just Tate and Bennett.”
It feels a lot like a stand-off as we stand on opposite sides of the room, both refusing to be the next to speak. When I break enough to meet his eyes, he’s already staring but giving nothing away. I’m not sure when exactly, or why specifically, but things have definitely changed between Dane and I. Might as well get this over with and get the hell out of here, he doesn’t seem to want me here.
“So, how about you open your presents?” I walk over and pick them up, and then sit on the couch, hoping he’ll follow me.
He does eventually join me, sitting miles away. Awkwardly, I scoot closer to him and place the first present in his lap. “Open it, Dane,” I say, nudging his knee with mine, “please.”
Gradually he peels off the gold paper, revealing his first present. I’d gotten him three DVDs; Toy Story, Monsters, Inc., and The Fox and the Hound, his professed favorites. I’d wrapped them, imagining laying with him and watching them all in a row, but something tells me that isn’t ever going to happen now.
For the first time since I arrived, he gives me a genuine smile. “Thank you, Laney. These are great, I love them.”
“You’re very welcome.” I wait for him to say something else, anything, but he doesn’t. He gazes at me, unmoving, so I hand him the next present. “Okay, open this one.”
“You didn’t have to get me anything, Laney.”
“I know I didn’t have to. I wanted to. Now open!”
He digs into this one a little faster than the last and tries to hide his inhale. It’s a CD, pictures of us decorating it. “It’s our playlist, for you to listen to anytime you want,” I explain. I’d downloaded every song Dane and I had shared from the first night I met him...”End of All Time,” “The Cave,” “This Year’s Love”...all of them.
Dane scoots closer to me now, a look on his face I can’t begin to interpret. “Our playlist?” he asks, on a whisper, one eyebrow raised.
I nod, and silently hand him the last present. He, too, remains quiet as he opens it. His hand trembles as he flips through the pages in the binder, the sheet music for every song on the CD. Obviously he knows how to play many of them, but maybe not on both the piano and guitar? And I want to hear him play every single one of them, on both instruments, time and time again; so I printed them all out.
Burning into me, the look in his eyes is now unmistakable. He sets down the binder and moves to me, cradling my face in his hands. Moving up, his fingers glide through my hair all the way to the ends and he rubs them between his fingers. Leaning in closer, he runs his nose along my neck, breathing in my scent the whole way and ending his path with a nip on my earlobe.
“I need some help here, Laney. I thought I could wait out the Evan thing, keep things casual with us, but I was wrong.” He nuzzles his face into my neck. “Then I thought I could let you go.” His hands slide down to grip my waist. “I was wrong again.”
His words, seductively angry whispers against my flesh, inflame parts of me I didn’t know existed. My breath stutters; can he feel my body react?
“So you tell me what’s right, Laney, cause I can’t take being wrong again.”
I lean back, wanting to see his eyes. They’ll tell me everything Dane won’t, every secret, every avoided question, the entire unknown. They’ll let me know it’s okay that I don’t know everything right now; what I do know is enough.
I know that my day is better if I see him in the morning before getting started. I know that I sleep better if his is the last voice I hear. My body knows the minute he walks into a room. My heart knows he needs me to give him time just as badly as I need him to give me answers. My mind knows that if I walk away now, I’ll eventually be fine, but fine isn’t the term I want used to describe my life.