Pretty Boy D by Rachel Jonas
8
Joss
“Cool if I take fifteen?”
My knee bounces beneath the table while Blue gets permission from her uncle, Dusty, to go on break a little early. They’re not super busy, so I’m hopeful. Heaven knows I need her advice right now.
Dusty glances up from the grill where he’s hard at work. “Sure thing. Fix you and Joss a milkshake first. On the house,” he adds with a nod.
I wave when he flashes a smile my way. Somehow, he’s not sick of seeing my face, despite how much time me and the guys spend here. Now that Blue and West have gotten things sorted out, Dusty’s Diner has kind of become our hang out, which Dusty doesn’t hate. According to him, people in this city look at our crew as local royalty, so business has been booming lately. If you ask me, we all have way too much baggage for anyone to envy us. I suppose they’re only considering what they assume is in our bank accounts, though, instead of the drama surrounding our actual lives.
Which is pretty damn shallow, but not a surprise.
Wonder what they’d think of me if they knew my father had completely cut me off? Would they still think it’s cool to be me?
Sighing, I go over all the shit I need to vent about. Blue makes two strawberry milkshakes, removes her apron, then joins me in the booth. She shoots me a grin and slides one of the tall glasses my way.
“Ok, so tell me what you think you screwed up,” she says, quoting the desperate text I sent a few hours ago.
Sighing, I stir the shake a bit, still getting my words together.
“Or we could start with something lighter,” I suggest, in no hurry to spill my guts.
“Oookay, what do you consider lighter?”
I shrug. “Anything. Tell me how Scar’s doing. She and your dad getting along okay without you?”
The first indicator that things have done a complete turnaround is that smile Blue’s wearing. Months ago, she’d been so hellbent on hating her father for the rest of her life. But now? She’s actually entrusted him with the one thing she loves on this planet as much as she loves West Golden.
Her sister, Scarlett.
“They’re good. She sent me a pic last night of their first homemade pizza together.”
“Did you go over for dinner?”
I know the answer before she even speaks, judging based on how her face is scrunched.
“Not exactly. I told them to get a bit more practice, then invite me,” she laughs. “I’d rather not be turned off from pizza for the rest of my life.”
A smile touches my lips, but there’s pain beneath it. Hearing how Scar is building a relationship with their once-estranged father is a reminder of how things with mine are falling apart.
“Enough about that stuff, though. What’s up with you?”
Hearing her ask, I accept that it’s time to get to the real reason I came seeking her advice today.
“I already know I did the right thing, but I guess I just need to tell someone,” I sigh. “Honestly, I’m not even sure why I texted you.”
“Is it about Dane?”
I nod. “Yeah.”
“…I’m listening,” she teases when I don’t elaborate.
I suck down some of the shake to buy myself a few more seconds, because I know how this is going to sound.
“Well, I’m managing Dane’s social accounts. Which, for now, just means I engage with his followers, respond to DMs, stuff like that. So, I officially started yesterday morning, and as I was wrapping things up, I came across a message from Rose’s daughter, Shawna. Apparently, Rose wants them to link up and—”
“Wait,” she cuts in. “When you say link up, what does that mean exactly?”
“It’s supposed to be a networking thing, but it seems kind of like a publicity stunt? Almost? Kind of?”
“So, Rose wants them to start dating—or at least look like they’re dating—to get people talking?” she asks.
“Yes, exactly. And when I mentioned to Dane that she’d reached out, he was casual about it, not all that interested. But then my dumb ass had to push,” I admit, hearing my own voice in my head from last night.
Blue pauses mid-sip to glare at me. “Joss, what the fuck did you do?”
I can’t even look her in the eyes, because more than anyone, she knows. Knows there’s a hidden layer to mine and Dane’s relationship. A layer that—if left unchecked—would turn into something it shouldn’t.
“I told him I’d set everything up.”
“As in, set up the date?” When she asks, her eyes nearly bug out of her skull.
“It was the right thing to do,” I say again, aware of how it sounds like I’m trying to convince myself.
Blue’s only response is to continue glaring at me.
“I know what you’re thinking, but you’re not there in that loft. It’s only been three days, and already I feel the pull,” I admit.
“Then don’t fight it!”
When I roll my eyes, she grabs my hand.
“Remember what you said to me when we were in Louisiana last Christmas?”
A deep breath fills my lungs and I hate that I do, in fact, know what she’s about to say.
“You told me there’s a type of love between you and Dane, even if it isn’t romantic love—which I’d beg to differ—but the point is that you like him. And you trust him. So, I fail to see the harm in, you know, getting a little closer,” she adds wiggling her shoulders until I laugh.
“I hate you.”
“You try.”
My gaze slips out the window and I know the damage is done. I’ve already backed myself into a corner with what I promised Dane over dinner. If I renege on my word now, he’ll know.
He’ll know I’m confused about my feelings for him about fifty percent of the time.
He’ll know I’ve considered throwing caution to the wind on many occasions, just to see what it’d be like to be with him. In every way imaginable.
“What’re you doing?” Blue’s eyes are fixed on my phone when I pull it from my pocket.
I finish the task at hand before answering, knowing she’ll only try to talk me out of this. It isn’t until I hit ‘send’ that I finally meet her gaze.
“I messaged Shawna back. Like I said I would.”
I’m getting that look again but turn away from it because I hear Blue’s thoughts now, too.
She thinks I’m being stubborn, thinks I’m digging myself in a deeper hole, thinks I’m doing something I’ll regret later.
How do I know this?
Because I’m thinking the same thing.
My phone sounds off in my hand and my heart sinks.
“That her?”
“It is,” I nod, trying to hold to the notion that this was all done in the name of preserving me and Dane’s friendship.
“Well? What’d she say?” Blue asks.
I meet her gaze and feel nauseated, knowing it’s now a done deal.
“She said what I expected her to. It’s a date.”