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“I promise…bye.” And she was gone. I buried my head in my arms and silently cried at my desk, for my sister, for my head, for the absolute disaster I made of my relationship, and for the mourning of the semi-normal and professional doctor who had suddenly abandoned post the minute Dean Martin waltzed into her hospital. I ended up dozing off and woke to a familiar male voice.
“Dallas.” I looked up to see Dean standing in my doorway. He looked alert and freshly showered. His clothes were neatly pressed and there wasn’t a hair out of place. I noted how his purple tie made his eyes pop.
I swallowed the sand in my throat. “I’m sorry. For whatever I said, for whatever I did, I’m sorry, okay? I just can’t battle it out with you right now,” I pleaded as I dropped my head back into the safety of my arms.
“Dallas, I need your help,” he said quietly. “I’m still pissed at you, and trust me I would ask anyone else to help me, but this situation is personal. Can you help me?”
I looked up to see the worry on his face and pushed my own selfish crap aside immediately. I couldn’t remember a time this man had ever asked me for anything. I nodded quickly.
“What is it?”
“I need you to come somewhere with me tomorrow. I’ll explain everything on the way. Will you come? Can you get your shift covered?” he asked while sending a text.
“Yes, sure,” I answered, wanting to comfort him somehow. He nodded as he read a text then looked up at me. “Try to lay off the vodka tonight. I need you alert tomorrow.”
“Yeah, yeah. And, Dean, I know I said—”
“You said what you meant,” he said, finally giving me his full attention. His stare was distant and it instantly hurt me. I was familiar with distant.
“I was drunk and angry,” I defended. “And you just barreled—”
“Look, we can talk tomorrow, okay? I’ll pick you up early at your place.” He picked up my phone and programmed his number in. “Text me your address.”
“Okay,” I said, taking my phone back quickly. He nodded then walked out without another word.
What in the hell?
Dean
Then
Seven months later, I stood waiting nervously on the porch of the frat house. I was more nervous than I’d ever been waiting on Dallas as I stood underneath the banner my frat brothers had tactlessly made stating “Dallas’s Ass is Twenty.” I rolled my eyes as people passed me to enter the house for her party. She would show up at any minute. I wiped the sweat from my brow. Summer making an early appearance in the middle of spring wasn’t helping my case. This kind of nervous didn’t need the assistance of Texas heat. Just as I pulled my phone out to text her, she appeared, looking beautiful as she took in her banner with a loud laugh.
“Awwwe, they even spelled it correctly,” she said as she joined me on the porch.
“At least you know it wasn’t me. Happy birthday, baby,” I murmured, pulling her to me in a long slow kiss.
“Wow,” she said, breaking away. “Way to go, Martin. I’m a sure thing after that kiss.” She looked beautiful in a pink, sleeveless dress, her hair down, the way I loved it. She looked on at me as I fell speechless then pulled her to the side of the house, trying desperately to make the words I’d carefully rehearsed come out. I ended up pacing for several seconds as she eyed me. She said nothing as she stayed quietly confused.
“So, this has been great. You and me finally together,” I said, deciding to just go with whatever came out.
“It took you long enough.” She wrinkled her nose. “If I hadn’t thrown myself on your literal throne, who knows how long it would have taken you.”
“I’ve made up for it,” I said, stopping suddenly and grabbing her, nuzzling her neck. She whimpered as she pulled away from me.
“Don’t tempt me, Dean. It took me an hour to get ready.” She wrapped her arms around my neck.
“You look so beautiful. I have always thought you were so perfect,” I said absently, still trying to come up with the right words.
Her smile was dazzling. “What are you up to, Dean?”
I pulled her hand from around my neck and placed the box in it.
“I want more, Dallas. I want you to agree to more.”
“What do you mean?” She gaped as she looked down at the box. It was a little deceptive.
“Open the box,” I choked out, my heart expanding to fill the entirety of my chest.
