The silence on the other end of the line said exactly what I knew was true. I was a serial monogamist. I’d been in four relationships my entire life and, with the exception of Jeremy, they had all been long-term. Jeremy would have been if he hadn’t been a piece of shit who needed to get stabbed in the kidneys repeatedly. I’d liked plenty of boys and men in my life, but I wasn’t big on dating around and playing the field.
And considering how much I liked Dallas—and felt even more than that toward him—my heart couldn’t handle disappointment, and at this point in my life, it wasn’t just me I was looking after. It was the boys too. They liked him and he was Josh’s coach. I wasn’t about to ruin a positive male influence for them by dating Dallas who had just gotten divorced after so many years.
He was going to date around.
And his neighbor across the street with two boys, who was always all up in his business and stuff, couldn’t be his first choice.
I lived across the street from him.
If Jeremy moved in across the street from me now, I would key his car and throw eggs at his house until he got a clue and moved.
There was no way I could be a revolving door. I wanted to be settled. I needed it. I knew he cared about me, but what were the chances he wasn’t thinking straight?
Shit. I wasn’t going to risk it. We could be friends and that was all he had ever given me the impression he wanted, with the exception of him rubbing his mouth all over my neck…
And the notes I’d found in his pocket that might not have anything to do with me.
I couldn’t think about that, or ever again, if I was supposed to survive this.
“Well, you can look but not touch if you want to do that, D.”
“That’s real useful advice,” I grumbled.
“What do you want me to tell you? You’re the one who’s never had a problem saying whatever is on your mind. You always do what you want to do, and everyone else can go to hell. The Di I know—the Diana I know now—doesn’t chicken out on things. So do whatever you want to do.”
I let out another grumble. How the hell was that supposed to help me?
“We’ll change the subject, chicken,” Vanessa went with when I didn’t say a word. “Did I tell you how Aiden makes Trevor call me when he’s gone, once every hour to make sure I’m fine? Can you believe that?”
“Nope.” Because I couldn’t. I knew how much Van hated her husband’s manager, and for him to have to call her all the time because Aiden was practicing was pretty damn hilarious. So I laughed because I was sure it must have been killing her inside a little too. “Sucker.”
My best friend snickered. “He’s the suck-up. I know for sure I never told you about how he bought us this baby stroller, and I looked it up. It costs four thousand dollars. For a baby stroller! I tried to return it, but he won’t tell me where he got it from. He should have used that money to buy things for someone who can’t afford the basics. I want to find a charity for pregnant women and donate money or items to them in exchange. It makes me feel guilty to get all this stuff.”
“Rich girl problems,” I teased her.
“Screw you.”
“Donate the money, or you can donate the money to me—”
That made her laugh. She knew there was no way I would ever ask her for money.
“You’re making me hurt, and I need to get back to work while Sammy is still napping,” the workaholic announced in a watery voice. “Text me later.”
“I will. Love you.”
“Love you too. Be my Diana and take what you want!” she shouted before the call ended.
Hanging up, I gripped my phone, took another swallow of the coffee I’d been drinking all morning, and headed back out onto the floor.
Take what I want.
I didn’t have to figure out what it was that I wanted. I knew what it was. Exactly what it was.
And that was Dallas.
But what the hell was I going to do about it? I wondered as I left the break room and headed into the main section of the salon for my next appointment.
Sean had his client in his chair doing what looked like a keratin treatment, and Ginny was sitting at her station, texting on her phone. She looked like as much shit as I did. There were bags under her eyes and she looked pale. She’d come in to work after I did, and all we’d done was wave at each other. I wanted to tell her about what happened with her cousin two nights ago, but…
Well, they were family. Distant family, but family nonetheless. You didn’t talk about matters of the heart with people who were related.
But I could ask her what had been bugging me on and off for months.
Making my way to her station, I leaned over and took a peek at her roots as she finished typing whatever it was she was sending.
Self-consciously, she lifted a hand to her ruby red hair. “I know. It’s about time you did my roots.”
Continuing on to the counter of her station, I leaned my butt against it and took in her clear, stressed but happy face. “Tell me when and I’ll do it for you.”
My boss nodded and raised her eyebrows, eyeing me closely. “How you feeling?’
“Like shit. You?”
“Like shit.”
I laughed and Ginny grinned. “How’d you get your car yesterday?”
“I made the kids drop me off. You?”
“The Larsens drove me.”
We both looked at each other for a moment before I finally blurted out, “Hey, is there something I should know about you and Dallas?”
She tipped her head to the side. “What do you mean?”
“Why don’t you like him?”
Her mouth formed an O shape before she closed it and sighed. “It isn’t that I don’t like him. We’ve never… hit it off. You know what I mean? When we were kids, he was serious and uptight. When we were older, like teens, it was always like he thought he was better than the rest of us. There’s nothing wrong with him. I guess I just never really gave him a chance. I didn’t know I was still doing that, but he can’t be that much of a stuck-up if he hangs out with Trip, I guess.”
It was my turn for my mouth to form an O. Just as quickly as Ginny had, I closed my mouth too. I could definitely picture Dallas being this mountain of judgmental black and white as a kid. He was still like that.
The difference was, I liked it.
Ginny kept going. “Now, Jackson on the other hand, what a waste of a human being.”
*
I am not going to look at Dallas’s butt.
I am not going to look at Dallas’s butt.
Nope. Not doing it.
Not doing it.
As if tempting me, Dallas walked by in front of me, all of his attention on the boy beside him during practice. Deep in the outfield was Josh, running drills with Trip and some of the other boys. But as terrible of a person as it made me, it was Dallas I was busy looking at.
Dallas and the skintight, long-sleeve thermal shirt he had on and jeans I was not going to be focusing on. I was too busy not thinking about Dallas to notice when someone took the seat right next to me. It was the divorced dad.
“Hey, Diana,” he greeted me, his hair combed neatly, hands on his lap.
I smiled at him. “Hi.”
The man, who had to be in his late thirties or early forties, gestured toward my hand, his gaze was wide. “How’s your hand doing?”
“Much better,” I told him, mostly honestly. I was better. Way better. But that didn’t mean it didn’t ache like hell after a few hours of working. I’d been putting vitamin E oil on it every night before bed, but the skin still hadn’t completely healed.