Pretty Boy D by Rachel Jonas
36
Joss
Dinner left me emotionally raw, driving home in a daze.
Kicking my shoes off at the door, I head to my room on autopilot, sorting through the menagerie of feelings bogging me down. The onset of a headache signals me that I need to hit reset on this day. I just want to lay in bed and start over in the morning.
I barely get a breath out when the door to the loft opens and shuts. I hear Dane’s steps as he moves through the great room, then the knob turns again. Only, he doesn’t leave.
“Joss?”
A quick glance in the mirror reveals that my eyes are as red as expected from tearing up. There’s no way Dane won’t notice, and definitely no chance he’ll let it slide.
What the hell is he doing here anyway?
Pandora’s last post showed him heading out to the event, but something’s brought him back.
“In here,” I call out, knowing there’s no point in trying to hide.
His steps carry him in the direction of my room, and he doesn’t stop until he gets here. Right away, his expression tells me the switch has flipped and he’s gone into protective mode. That’s ended badly for more than one person over the years. Even dressed to the nines, he looks like he’d commit murder on my behalf.
“What are you doing here?”
He seems only half-focused on my question as he evaluates what he’s just walked in on—my teary, red-rimmed eyes I’d just seen in the mirror.
“I forgot the tickets,” he answers, but his stare darkens. “Now, tell me what the fuck your dad did this time? Then, tell me where I can find him.” His voice is low and menacing when he asks.
My hand lands on his chest and I feel his racing heart against my palm. “He didn’t do anything. It’s not that.”
My words relax him a bit, but he’s still far from settled.
“What happened?”
Breathing deeply, I take the flight voucher from my purse and hand it to him. Now, since he asked, I’ll do my best to explain feelings I haven’t even sorted out myself.
“Things went well, but he’s still pressuring me to go with them.”
Dane’s quiet when he glances up from the slip I gave him, and I don’t miss that look in his eyes. It’s almost as if he feels physical pain, maybe at the thought of me leaving.
“And… are you considering it?”
Hearing his question, tension spreads across my brow. “Do you even need to ask? Of course not!”
When I reach for his hands, he squeezes mine.
“This doesn’t change anything, the wounds are still just a little fresh, you know?”
“I get it,” he says, and I know he does. “If it helps, I booked our trip. I’m taking you away from all the bullshit in just a few weeks.”
I do feel relieved knowing there’s something to look forward to, but I’m still a bit bummed. Dane does that thing where he studies my face, reading me, then he presses a kiss to the center of my forehead.
“Know what? Change of plans,” he says. “Put your heels back on. You’re coming out with me tonight.”
A laugh leaves me. “You’re kidding, right? Weren’t you expressly warned about bringing stragglers?” I tease, pushing a tear from my cheek.
“Fuck Rose and anyone else who doesn’t like it. I’m not leaving my girl home alone, feeling like shit.”
There’s a wild look in his eyes and it’s just enough to tempt me.
“Dane, I don’t want to ruin anything. I—”
“The only thing that can ruin tonight is you making me go to this bullshit event without you.”
He casts this wickedly sexy look down on me and I swear he’s got magic behind those green eyes.
When I roll mine with a sigh, he likely already knows what I’ll say.
“Okay. I’ll go.”
One corner of his mouth curves up with a smile and he leads me toward the door. With him holding my hand for balance, I step back into my shoes.
“Ready.”
He smiles at my lack of enthusiasm, then holds out his arm for me to take. “It’ll be fun.”
Famous last words.
“What kind of event is this anyway?”
Dane shrugs, hearing my question. “It’s a charity auction, I think, but… who gives a fuck? We’re doing our own thing tonight.”
He grins and I have no idea what that means, or what trouble he’ll face when Rose finds out he’s bailing, but there’s something to be said about Dane. Once his mind is made up, there’s no changing it.