Pretty Boy D by Rachel Jonas

23

Dane

A pocketful of business cards, a dozen calls scheduled to discuss photoshoots, a girl on my arm most guys would chew their own hand off to be with. But me?

I’d rather be home, chilling with the girl who’s made an art of pushing me a way.

That shit sucks.

Big time.

Shawna reaches across my shoulder to adjust my collar, then smiles up at me. I try to flash one back, but it feels awkward as hell, which means it looks at least that. I’ve never been good at hiding my feelings, and tonight, the pervasive thought preventing me from having a good time is of how much it pisses me off that Joss is still in denial.

She thinks her parents were screwed up? Well growing up under the same roof as Pam and Vin Golden was no fucking picnic. And, yes, being an eyewitness at ground-zero of our parents’ trash relationships messes us up, but she fucking knows me. Knows I’m nothing like her piece-of-shit father.

“You okay?” Shawna’s question has me glancing down to her.

“Fine. Why?”

Her brow shoots up curiously. “Well, for one, you’re super distracted. But there’s also the fact that you’re squeezing my fingers like a tube of empty toothpaste,” she answers with a laugh, slipping her hand from mine to shake it a bit.

Guess I’m not hiding my frustration as well as I hoped.

“Sorry. Just got a lot of shit on my mind.”

“Wanna talk about it?”

We push past a group near the balcony door, then step out into the open air before I answer.

“It’s nothing you’d want to hear.”

When I sigh, leaning over the railing, Shawna’s stare deepens.

“Trouble on the home front?” She lets out a humorless chuckle when she turns, facing out over the courtyard below us.

“You could say that.”

There’s unacknowledged tension lingering between us. Like there are things we both want to say but can’t for about a million reasons. Mine mostly involve me knowing she won’t want to hear me gripe about the Joss situation. Because she’d know the frustration is rooted in something else, a much deeper emotion I’m starting to think I’m an idiot for even feeling.

“Saw your video today,” she shares. “Looked like you and the roomie had a good time. Well, it always looks like that, I guess.”

I shrug, not really wanting to discuss it.

“So, since you seemed fine in the video, did something happen after that? Did it have something to do with having to be here tonight?”

Glancing down at her, I realize she thinks she’s the problem, thinks I hate having to be here with her, and it makes me feel like shit.

“It’s not about attending the event,” I explain. “Well… not in the way you’re thinking.”

I hear her wheels turning as she pushes the length of her hair behind both ears.

“Hmm… Is she upset that—”

“Before you finish, no, she’s not mad I’m here with you,” I say with a sigh, not ignoring the fact that I wish that were the problem.

“Well, I give,” Shawna huffs. “And I’m also starting to think I was right; coming tonight was a bad idea.”

My gaze slips toward her just in time to see she’s starting to sulk a little. Exhaling, I pull my head out of my ass and realize I’ve been terrible company tonight. I haven’t had much to say and when I have spoken, I’ve been short with her.

“I’m sorry. I’ve been so preoccupied with my own shit that I’ve been a complete ass.”

She slips me a look, holding in a faint smile now. “You didn’t even compliment my dress.”

Turning toward the courtyard again, and away from her, I laugh a little. “You look beautiful. My failure to say it out loud doesn’t mean I didn’t notice.”

She steps closer and leans on the rail beside me. I guess she just now realized I won’t bite.

“You look good, too. I’ve wanted to tell you since you first stepped out of the car.” There’s a shyness about her I’m not used to. Seems like she’s always so confident. So sure of herself.

“Thanks.”

“Welcome.”

The conversation lulls and, without fail, my thoughts lead me right back to Joss. Wondering what she’s doing. Wondering if she’s talking to Carlos just to avoid thinking about me, about last night.

And just like that, I taste her on my tongue, then feel the softness of her hand encircling my cock. I know I’m not crazy. We were electric together. I can’t be the only one who felt that shit.

But since she doesn’t want to admit it’s a thing, I’ll do my best to forget.

“You really started not to show?”

“Didn’t see the point,” Shawna sighs.

That wasn’t quite the response I expected, so I’m admittedly curious. “What does that even mean?”

She smirks when I do.

“It just means that PTSD from one rejection is enough for me. The whole ‘Tim thing’ has me gun shy to fall for someone new and, if I’m honest, you kind of scare me. Because I could see that happening with you,” she admits. “Guess the video today just seemed… different.”

I face her fully now, resting my elbow on the rail to make eye contact.

“The video with Joss? Different how?”

She nods to confirm, then draws in a deep breath. “There was this point after the piercing was done, when she was half-laughing and half-crying. You just looked so concerned. Like, you knew that despite her cracking up, she was in actual pain. And when a tear finally fell, you brushed it away with your thumb. It was an innocent enough gesture between friends, but… not when you look at her the way you do. It was the look. That’s what made it more than ‘just friends’. That’s what made it love.”

I gaze at her a few seconds, then let my stare shift to the wood slats beneath our feet, feeling exposed. Like she’s just read me.

“And… I guess I can take your silence as confirmation.”

Frustration brings tension to my shoulders. “Doesn’t really matter what I feel. Her mind is made up about us and I’ve accepted that there ain’t shit I can do about it.”

Shawna’s thoughtful for a moment, biting her lip when I glance her way.

“While I’m more than aware that what I’m about to say will probably sound completely desperate, it seems that’s a risk I’m willing to take,” she says with a nervous laugh. “But if you come to the conclusion that things aren’t going anywhere with her, I’m willing to let that be enough.”

A solemn smile touches her lips, but I’m confused. It seems she understands that when the lighthearted expression leaves her.

“I’m… not sure I follow,” I admit, which has her face tinting red.

“Shit, I don’t even know how to flirt anymore,” she says mostly to herself. “What I’m trying to say is, I know neither of us are emotionally available right now, but that doesn’t have to mean we aren’t, you know, physically available. To each other,” she adds, gazing up through her dark lashes.

I only look into her eyes a few seconds before glancing out toward the courtyard again. For some reason, even imagining what she just offered feels like I’m cheating. But how fucking ridiculous is that? Shouldering the guilt of being unfaithful, when the one girl I want refuses to admit the feeling is mutual?

Shawna takes hold of my arm, her light touch drawing me back to her stare. There’s sadness in her eyes, and a bit of something else. Hope, maybe?

“Please don’t think less of me for speaking my mind. I just think that since we both know how much it fucking sucks to be lonely, maybe it’s okay if we’re… you know… lonely together.”

I have nothing to say, nothing to combat that.

“Just… think about it,” she says.

With that, her grip on my arm loosens, and I watch her walk away, weaving back through the crowd until she disappears.

* * *

@QweenPandora:Is NotJoss sinking her claws deeper into one of our Golden Boys?

The pair were spotted at a snazzy event held at the art gallery tonight. Check out this pic of her clinging to PrettyBoyD’s arm, gazing at him on the balcony.

Am I the only one dying to know what’s being said here?

Guess we’ll just have to use our imaginations and learn to let that be enough.

You know, unless either one wants to message me with a play-by-play.

No? Well, can’t blame a girl for trying.

Later, Peeps.

—P