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I looked at Dean now across from me at Chantilly and saw a sadness I hadn’t noticed until now.
I felt the guilt of what I had done to him that night hover over me. I realized long after our first time together I had been so concerned with my agenda to get him in bed that I didn’t even realize what he was trying to tell me. He thought I was special. I wondered if I would ever think that way about myself. Then again, he was the only man truly capable of making me feel that way.
And taking it away too easily.
Pain ripped through me as I recalled the day it stopped. Dean saw the memory surface on my face and started to speak when I stood to excuse myself for the restroom, and to my absolute horror, I saw Josh standing a few feet away. He had his arm around an older woman who I recognized as his mother. I quickly made my way over and hugged her in greeting, wishing her a happy birthday. Josh was far from civil as he spoke.
“An old friend, Jesus, Dallas,” he whispered harshly and only for me.
“Josh it’s not like that, not at all. Please come outside with me.”
“Dallas, how are you?” His mother, clearly embarrassed by hearing our unpleasant word exchange, did her best to make conversation. “I’m fine, Mrs. Stephenson,” I piped in happily. “It’s so good to see you. Happy birthday.”
“What the hell is going on?” he hissed as Mrs. Stephenson was whisked away by the hostess. I glanced over my shoulder to see Dean behind me. “Dean, this is Josh. Josh, this is Dean. I ran into him yesterday at my OB. We went to college together.” They shook hands and I begged Dean with my eyes to give us a minute, and he quickly conceded. He walked over to the table, laying his card down, waiting on the server to pick it up and check us out.
Josh eyed Dean then quickly turned to glare at me. “I really don’t care how good of friends you are, that dress is not for a friendly dinner, Dallas.”
“I know, and I’m sorry. I just…it was a bad call. I’m under a lot of stress lately and you don’t want to hear about work—”
He roughly grabbed my arm and led me outside. Once we were far enough away, he tore into me.
“So you dress like a total whore and go on a date with an old boyfriend who wanted to pop your cherry! My mother heard that disgusting shit!”
“Oh, God.” I wanted a blanket, no a tarp, no a nun’s habit. I was thoroughly ashamed and hated myself.
“Whore, it’s all I can think about looking at you right now and I don’t want to say it again.”
“Don’t talk to me like that. I haven’t done anything wrong!” I felt my cheeks grow hot as he berated me in front of the valet.
“Then don’t act like one,” he hissed as his gaze covered my body possessively.
“I’m sorry, all right, but you’re overreacting,” I reasoned.
“I saw the way he was looking at you, Dallas. How fucking stupid do you think I am? Now I have to go to explain to my mother why my girlfriend is out in a fuck me dress with another man!”
“Watch your mouth,” I snapped, ready to stand my ground.
“Really, and I suppose you are the voice for the morally sound, Dallas?”
“That’s enough! I swear to you, you keep talking to me like that you will be in for a fight! Who the hell do you think you—”
“I’m jealous!” he admitted, raking his hands through his hair. He looked at me in defeat, and I felt tears threaten. “God, I’m sorry, Dallas. You look so fucking beautiful. I really can’t take this!” He looked over my shoulder and nodded. “Enjoy your date.”
“It’s not like that, Josh!”
“It’s exactly like that, Dallas,” he snapped, turning abruptly and leaving me as Dean approached.
“Sorry, that was…unexpected,” I offered as he looked behind him at a retreating Josh. “This does look rather suspicious,” I said, looking do
wn at my filthy fucking dress. I would burn it. I was guilty for more reasons than one: the way I was dressed, and the fact that a few minutes ago I had been replaying one of the most amazing sexual experiences of my life with Dean.
“That’s what you do to men, Dallas,” he chuckled.
“Thanks for siding with him. It’s been years, Dean. You don’t know me anymore!”
“I just remember how badly it hurt when you threw me in the garbage,” he remarked, unlocking his car.
“I most certainly did not!” I huffed, refusing to let him get my door for me.
