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“Funny, Dallas. Always trying to bring out the angry Spaniard in me.”
“Well,” she said, pressing her lips to mine, “you can put him away. You’re safe for now.”
Pushing her hair back from her face, I leaned in. “Mathlete? Please don’t insult me and aim a little higher.”
“Okay, well, there is this one guy in pre-law. I may be able to look over the fact that he wears socks with sandals. I mean, after all, my boyfriend dresses like he belongs in the tabernacle choir.”
A month later, I was waiting for her to finish packing for Thanksgiving break. We were going home to spend time with our parents, and for the first time, we were officially together.
We both carried our class load with ease, the same goal in mind. I admired her when she pushed me out of her doorway for some much-needed catch up or sleep. When she’d finally let her guard down enough to completely let me in, she mirrored my behavior in affection. I hadn’t heard the words cross her lips, and was being patient about it. I’d never thought myself a romantic fool before. I’d never had to be, never wanted to be, until her.
She was still my spitfire in every way, constantly challenging me with her sharp tongue and as persistent as ever to bring out the angry Spaniard in me, which she did often. I loved every minute of it.
I loved her.
I watched as her and Cammie went back and forth as she finished packing, Cammie eyeing me suspiciously. She was a pill. A few of my frat buddies had attempted a shot at her, but were quickly shut down. She seemed to have a stick up her ass that gave the effect of a bowlegged stance. She was a cute girl, just not cute enough for the amount of bullshit one would have to endure to date her. She held some sort of grudge and it was obvious. Dallas rolled her eyes at me in jest as Cammie went on and on about her last date. She seemed to want my opinion as she eyed me every other sentence. I offered nothing. I just wanted to get my girl alone and no sooner had she shut her suitcase did I take her hand, hauling her out the door after a quick hug with Cammie.
“You don’t like her.” Dallas chuckled as I dragged her down the set of stairs leading out of her dorm.
“I wouldn’t say that,” I denied, carrying her ten ton bag through the quad toward the parking lot.
“No, you wouldn’t,” she smarted back.
“Let’s go home, spitfire,” I said, giving her a smile as we closed our car doors.
“Spitfire?” she questioned with a smile. “I think I like it.”
“You would,” I chuckled, starting the car as Dean Martin’s greatest hits played in the background. I held her hand the entire five hours to Dallas as she rattled on about the medical practice her and Rose had decided to open. Rose would be a surgeon. She was excited when she spoke about it, in a way that told me that any hopes I had of her joining me in New York were premature. She had planned her future as well and as far as I could tell, I wasn’t a part of it.
Looking over at her as she spoke animatedly, I decided to change that. The crippling fear in my chest told me I had to.
We’d spent our first day at her house catching up with her family. I watched Rose and Dallas interact, completely different this time around. Rose was now fifteen and seemed to have a little hero worship for her big sister. It was a far cry from the Tom and Jerry act I was used to when it came to them. They seemed closer, and spent a good amount of time whispering. Rose, true to her no bullshit nature, brought up our relationship status in front of the entire family, including their older brother Paul, who had always threatened no less than death if I touched his sister.
“So you two finally hooked up,” Rose said without apology as Dallas spit out her salad and glared at her.
Her mother was the first to speak up. “About time.” She winked with an added smile.
“It could have waited longer,” her father said pointedly at me. I coughed and swallowed my entire beer as his lips twitched with a smile. I had a deep respect for Seth Whitaker. I only felt slightly guilty for the misconduct I had planned for the next few days. She was finally mine and not even he could dampen that fact.
“All of you shut up or we are staying at Dean’s until the end of break,” Dallas said with an apologetic smile at me. I simply shook my head and grinned. Seth replaced my beer and I knew then, it was all in jest.
I felt at home with them all as we watched the Cowboys get their asses kicked and we collectively yelled at the screen. Dallas sat next to me, my arm around her shoulders, her legs t
ucked beneath her. Halfway through the game, I caught her eyeing me, the look on her face bringing me back to a time when I wasn’t able to tell her how I felt. She didn’t shy away from being caught. She simply smiled, her eyes telling me all I needed to know. I took full advantage now as her beautiful, green gaze caused an explosion in my chest.
I leaned in slowly, eyes locked on hers before I whispered in her ear. “When you look at me that way, baby, I feel invincible. Nothing else fucking matters…nothing. I love you, Dallas.” I saw the sting of tears as she kept her eyes on mine and I backed away slowly as she nodded into my chest, wrapping her arms around me tightly. An angry scream at the TV shook us both out of the moment. It might have been broken, but it lingered between us, ever-present, the energy pulsing around letting us know we were right. We got it right with each other. I held her tighter to me as she laughed at her father who threw an entire bowl of pretzels at the TV, and her mother cursed him and the Cowboys for his ill mood.
At my house, Dallas spent a few hours helping my mother in the kitchen as she drilled her incessantly on whether or not I was being a good boy. I rolled my eyes and was smacked on the back of the head as my mother explained to Dallas that a good turkey was covered in butter underneath the skin. She never missed an opportunity to teach. Dallas glared at me as I prompted her to pay close attention. My father reacquainted himself with Dallas and questioned her while letting his eyes drift to me every so often. He knew how I felt about her, as did my mother. It was obvious and had always been. I didn’t have to say a word. I could see the small amount of worry he held for the future we had planned together. He never cornered me, not once asking me if my plans were changing. He was letting me handle it the way he often did, on my own. I loved that about him. He trusted me, and though I was a lot like him in some respects, he also catered to the side that had nothing to do with him. Honestly, I think he was just as smitten with Dallas. She was a hard girl to resist. I should know.
She made me feel superior to other men just by breathing my name.
After the turkey had been devoured, at not one but both our houses, we separated, reluctantly. Dallas had left my parents with leftovers at my mother’s insistence, though Dallas repeatedly told her they had far too many at her own house.
I was settling in for a long night without her. I couldn’t stop thinking about what little time I had left with her. How everything would change the minute I left for New York. She had seven years left to my four. It seemed impossible. I would never ask her to give it up, and there laid the problem. She would never ask that of me either. It was our common goal that threatened to tear us apart.
I heard a scrape at my window but ignored it. A few seconds later, I heard a lot of the same and looked out my bedroom window jerking it open in alarm. “Dean!” Dallas was sliding down the shingles of the roof near hysterics, gripping them for dear life. I opened the window just in time to catch one arm before she fell off the roof and broke her neck.
“What in the hell are you doing?” I asked as she cried into my shoulder, shaken up from her near face plant with the concrete. She shook violently as I consoled her. I paused and twisted her to look at me. Her tears had turned into laughter, the laugh I loved where it was about to burst out of her. I clamped my hand over her mouth just in time to catch it and shoved us both in a closet. Her howling wouldn’t stop as I did my best to silence her. I didn’t know how my parents would react to finding her in the house, my mother being the most imminent threat. I finally gave up my struggle to keep control, picturing her out there grasping at straws and started laughing hard as well. We stood there for five minutes in a dark closet before she finally slowed enough to speak.
