to figure it out, I never expected an apology or anything close to a declaration of love. Maybe that’s why they sound so foreign? I’ve wished to hear these exact words for so long that I feel like I actually willed this to happen. Will this be a blessing or a curse? Or both?
I can’t stop my mind from whirling.
I push my own thoughts aside and comfort her.
“Shh,” I whisper, and rest my chin on top of her head.
A few seconds pass and she pulls away slightly to look up at me.
“I don’t deserve you,” she says softly. Her eyes don’t meet mine as she continues: “But I’ve never wanted you more.”
Her head is heavy on my chest as she cries. Her hands are fists, full of my T-shirt. A faint ringing sounds through the apartment and Dakota quickly reacts, snapping her head up from my chest.
Talk about bad timing.
“I’m so sorry, it’s my agent,” she says, rushing to the living room. “Well, not agent yet, but he might be.”
Agent?
Since when does she have an agent? Or want one? What the heck does an agent do for a ballet student? I know she’s been auditioning for small roles in commercials for the time being, but maybe she’s decided to pursue acting?
From the living room, her loud voice breaks my thoughts. “I have to go!”
Then Dakota’s head pops into the doorway of the kitchen. “I’m so sorry, but this is huge!” Her tears are gone, her frown replaced by a bright smile.
Perhaps my face is registering the utter confusion I’m feeling, because she walks into the kitchen, saying, “I’ll come back tomorrow, okay?”
She leans onto the tips of her toes and kisses me softly on the cheek.
Her hand squeezes mine and she looks like a new person. She’s happy, she’s light. I’ve missed this version of her and I can’t decide if I should be disappointed that she’s leaving in the middle of . . . whatever the hell we were doing, or excited for whatever opportunity is coming her way.
I choose to be happy for her and not question her motives.
“I have to work tomorrow, but I’ll be here Friday, all night after classes,” I tell her.
Dakota beams. “I’ll come Friday!” Then she adds, “And maybe I can stay over?”
She looks at me shyly, like she’s never stayed with me before. She bites her lips and I can’t stop my mind from recalling the last time she was in my bed. Well, not the last time, because she was drunk and I didn’t touch her, but the time before that.
She was beautiful, her bare skin was shimmering under the dim light in my room at Ken’s. She had woken me up in the middle of the night with her mouth around my cock. Her mouth was so warm, so wet, and I was so hard, embarrassing myself by finishing after only a few slow drags of her lips across me.
“Landon?” Dakota knocks me back into reality.
“Yes, of course.” I feel the blood rushing to my cock.
Hormones are tricky and embarrassing things.
“Of course I want you to stay.”
“Good. See you Friday,” she says while quickly kissing my lips. She squeezes my hand and rushes out the door.
• • •
Sleep doesn’t come easy. My mind is stuck on my past.