Chapter Four

Dallas

Now

I peeked around the corner of the medical supply closet, watching Dean in his usual repartee with a few of the floor staff .

All women…figures.

They crowded around him like a bunch of groupies backstage at a rock concert. Then again, I wasn't doing much better stalking from a distance.

You're not stalking him, Dallas. You are simply…curious.

I watched as Dean threw his head back and laughed with Miranda, a cardiologist who worked on a completely different floor. The rumor is half the hospital staff had already gotten a crack at her. I narrowed my eyes as she finished their bout of laughter by putting her hand on his chest oh…so…casually.

"Tramp," I whispered vehemently under my breath.

"Who's a tramp?" I heard Beatrice call from behind me as I jumped out of my skin and ducked into the closet. I quickly recovered, grappling for supplies as she followed me in.

"I said more," I piped, gathering as much as possible to keep my hands busy. "What are you doing here? This isn't your floor," I said in a rush, scorning her in vain .

"I'm covering for someone, and I could say the same for you, honey. You aren't fooling anyone here. Since when do you stock up on anything?" she said as a knowing smile graced her face as I turned crimson. Beatrice is what I liked to call the housemother. She governs the hospital as if she is watching her grandchildren with adoration in her eyes and a sharp tongue. Lines filled her caramel skin and were complemented by her soft brown eyes. Her scornful, southern voice reminded me of every lead actress in a mother role in a good movie. And if this was a movie, she looked like a female version of Morgan Freeman with tiny, sporadic black moles around her eyes and nose. I found them adorable. I took in her kitten-covered scrubs and shook my head.

"Fine, I'm busted," I said, putting the supplies back neatly and shaking my head.

"I knew he was trouble the minute I laid eyes on that man. What's the story?" she asked, slowly crossing her arms over her chest as if we had all the time in the world. "And if I may say, he's as handsome as any man I've ever seen." She tilted her head back and peeked out of the closet, and I quickly jerked her back in with both hands, making her scream out in surprise.

"There. That right there. That's the story," I said quietly. She was talking normally and apparently didn't realize we were on a stakeout. She halted my nervous hands with a hand on my shoulder. "Stop, Dallas, and tell me what's going on." She typically only addressed me as Dr. Whitaker, but like with every other governing force, once they used your name and that particular tone, it was time to spill it.

"When we were kids—not kids, college—we…dated, and we were…we …" I nodded at her to catch on for herself without me having to say the words. She didn't bite. I rolled my eyes at her stubbornness .

"You?" she encouraged, shutting the door behind me, pinning me with her intrusive stare.

"We dated…well, we met in high school," I said, looking anywhere I could to avoid those damn Oprah-I'm-going-to-make-you-realize-shit-about-yourself-and-have-an-epiphany-so-you-will-cry-on-my-couch-eyes.

"We dated in college for a year, that's it," I said dismissively.

"That's not it. If it were, you wouldn't be in the closet calling Ms. Miranda a tramp and watching his every move." She chuckled, raising her brows.

"I got lost in a memory. I'm fine. The way things ended, I just …" I finally gave her a pleading eye.

"Ms. Dallas, listen, if you care for the man and he's making it obvious he cares for you, why not talk to him?"

I felt like an idiot standing in the supply closet being talked to like I was ignoring the most obvious solution. I narrowed my eyes at her. "It's not that simple."

"All right, all right," she said, opening the door slowly behind me. I did an about-face, burst out of the closet as if my ass was on fire, and ran right smack into Dean.

Perfect.

"Dallas," he said, gripping my hips so I could regain my bearings. I whipped back quickly to stand, noticing Dean eye Beatrice over my shoulder with a raised brow. Beatrice just smiled at him and grabbed the first thing available on the shelf, making it completely obvious we were up to no good.

Dean turned to me as I tried my best to ignore his delicious smell of wood and sea. I caught myself just before I took a whiff and jerked my arms out of his grasp.

"Sorry," I said quickly and took a step away. He took one step forward, his light blue eyes penetrating mine.

"What did I just bust you doing?" he murmured with no regard at all for my personal space. He inched closer, and I felt my spine start to tingle.

Don't look into those eyes, Dallas. Trouble, trouble.

"Nothing, just girl talk," I said, giving Beatrice big eyes as she lingered. She made a slight "hmph" sound and walked off with her lips twitching in amusement. The same amusement gracing Dean's smooth full lips at the moment.

This man should not have this much effect on me.

"Okay, well, bye. I—"

He cut me off when his finger swiped my lip to remove a strand of hair that was stuck in my lip gloss.

"Sure, you have to go," he said, holding his tablet at his hip, his eyes still peering into mine, his lips twitching as he fought a smile. He knew very well his effect on me.

"Stop looking at me that way," I barked.

"What way?" he asked, his tone implying he was clueless, his broadening smile telling me he knew exactly what he was doing.

"Like you've seen me naked," I snapped, my hands on my hips, my center and resolve melting simultaneously as he continued to stare at me with hunger.

"I have…repeatedly," he said softly as a small shiver made its way across my shoulders.

"That was years ago," I snorted, my eyes challenging him. The tall, dark, insanely handsome bad habit I used to have was now getting under my skin, and I needed to put a stop to it.

Nothing good had ever come out of it.

"I've known you a long time, Dallas," he spoke as he leaned into me.

"So?" I said, still trying to mask my arousal with contempt. He leaned in closer, and the second his chest brushed mine and his breath hit my ear, it took everything I had not to moan. "You don't really want me to stop, Dallas. In fact, I'm willing to bet you want me to do a lot more."

"I'm not the girl I used to be. Do you need me to continue to remind you?" I said, knowing I had exactly thirty seconds to get away from this man before I proved myself wrong.

Twenty-nine…twenty-eight…twenty—

He started to speak again, and I raised my hand in protest. "Let me just stop you right there. I'm not curious like those women are—" I gestured over his shoulder at our female audience that were trying their best to hear our conversation "—because I've been there, Dean. I'm not falling for your shit because I already have. I don't need to be reminded of what we did because I was there, too. But maybe I should remind you of how it ended." He stood a little taller then as the recognition crossed his face.

"How exactly did it end, Dallas?" he said, his voice becoming less intimate and more distant. It was all I needed.

Nineteen…eighteen…seventeen…sixteen—

"Badly," I said, turning to walk toward the elevator. "You were there, too," I whispered, thinking he wouldn't hear me.

"Yes, I was," he said softly. I paused mid-stride but didn't look back. I didn't have to. I knew he was still staring at me.

Three…two…one.

I walked into Mr. Carson's room, waiting for Dr. Pierce to give the results of the chemo. If it had shrunk just another few millimeters, there was a good chance he would live to fight another day. Against my better judgment, I was fully vested in Lance Carson. I couldn't stand to see his wife in so much pain. I knew the odds were against him. I also knew that with cancer, anything was possible. It was a nonbiased killer but carefully executed medicine, and with the help of divine intervention, it could all turn around.

"Dr. Whitaker, have you ever thought about branching out to oncology?" I scanned Mr. Carson's hopeful face, praying to God I'd made the right decision in telling him to take another round of meds. He'd gone through so much during this round of chemo that I thought we would lose him… twice . Still, he sat in his bed, smiling at me.

"No, I'm opening a general practice with my sister."

"Plans change. You should think about it. And no matter what comes out of his mouth, I'm thankful you made me fight." I turned to Mr. Carson, who gave me a quick wink and took in a deep breath, waiting on Pierce to deliver the verdict.

"It worked." Dr. Pierce nodded at me with appreciation as he walked into the room. It took everything I had in me not to burst into tears. In the case of Lance Carson, I was heavily involved.

I saw Mrs. Carson's face light up, and she let out a scream of delight and hugged her husband furiously. I watched, unable to speak, fearing my voice would betray my emotion.

"You saved my life today. Think about it, Dr. Whitaker," Mr. Carson said over his wife's shoulder, who was sobbing.

"I will go set up your surgery," I said, quickly excusing myself.

"Thank you." Mrs. Carson threw her arms around me, stopping my retreat, and sobbed into my jacket. I hugged her back fully with my warning.

"We aren't out of the woods yet. We still have to get the tumor out. Stay optimistic, and I will see you both shortly with the orders." I walked out of the room, dodging all of the awe-filled stares, including Dr. Pierce.

"Beatrice, it worked! Schedule him for surgery right away. "

"Well done, doctor."

"Thank you!" I beamed, my chest full.

I had been spending more and more time in the hospital's oncology department. I hadn't mentioned it to Rose due to the fact that I didn't want to tell her I was becoming more interested in that particular field. It would interfere with the plans we have had for years. I couldn't do it to her, and I wasn't so sure this wasn't just a phase. I'd been interested in several other fields, as well. Still, I couldn't deny that this felt much different. I walked quickly across the street to meet her for coffee. Dallas Memorial was situated minutes from her campus. I walked into Starbucks and stopped dead in my tracks as I watched her. She was beaming at her phone as she texted someone. I could see it on her instantly. When she realized I was watching her, she quickly pocketed her phone and came toward me. It seemed my baby sister was hiding something of her own. I gave her a knowing smile, and she shrugged away my interest. I turned my attention to the young barista in front of me.

"I'll have a caffeine-free, frothy, cold, chocolate thing with chocolate shit on top, please."

I heard a puff of air escape my sister. "Are you serious? I'm sorry, ma'am." She turned to the young girl at the counter, who was laughing hysterically at my order. "She's not fit for public. She'll have a decaf chocolate Frappuccino with whipped cream and extra drizzle, and I'll take a chai tea, please. Dallas, go get us a table."

"Thanks, Rosie. I never know how to order this crap."

"It takes brains, Dallas. Take your damn drink, will you? I don't want people knowing I drink this poison."

"You guzzle tacos, Rose," I pointed out as we situated ourselves at a high-top table with a view of the hospital.

"True," she said, her smile never far from the surface .

"Spill it. I only have ten minutes," I said, dreading what was coming. I adored my sister. Today she had decided to style her hair in her usual knotted, curly red mess on top of her head. I had tried for years to get her to embrace her feminine side, and for years she had told me to ‘go to hell'. In all honesty, she didn't need to change a thing. Rose carried a confidence about her that I admired. She wasn't trying to impress anyone, which I was sure made her even more appealing to the opposite sex. She was a true natural beauty.

"So, I met someone. His name is Grant. He is beautiful, smart, caring, funny, and he smokes weed."

She looked up at me with an impish grin as I laughed harder than I had in months. "Ha ha ha, holy shit, Rose. He's a pothead?"

"No, he smokes weed," she defended. "There is a difference."

"He's a pothead," I said, egging her on.

"No, he's not, damn it. I'm telling you, sister, I've never had it this good," she boasted, eyebrows raised, and perfectly plump lips puckered out. I chuckled at her.

"You look good. Really, Rose, you are practically glowing. So, okay, tell me more."

"He was raised here and in Tennessee due to his parent's divorce. He is a mechanic for a private airline. He is twenty-nine and is the hottest, and I mean the hottest man I've ever seen. He's so good to me and tells me he loves me with every breath he takes. I think, no I'm sure I'm in love with him. It happened really fast, and we don't get to see each other often, but we talk every single day for hours. And when we do see each other…oh, God, it's like my heart is full, and I am so happy. He hasn't let my school work suffer, and he swears we're destined to end up together, and I love him, and he is so, so good to me and—Dallas…why are you looking at me like that? "

"It happened," I said carefully, giving her a slow nod with the tilt of my chin.

"What happened?"

"What Dad said. Lightning struck you, Rose." I watched the words sink in as she tilted her head, eyes squinting. "Oh, you know I don't believe in that stuff."

"Yes, you do. Don't pretend with me. I know better," I said, suddenly terrified for her. It had been a little less than a month since dinner at my parents' house. Who the hell could she possibly have fallen in love with in such little time?

"Okay, so what if I do believe in it. How do you know it's Grant?"

"Rose, I know as well as you do that it's Grant. I'm going to down this frothy chocolate shit and try to be happy for you," I said, the bitterness in my voice growing stronger with every word.

"I'm sorry, Dallas. I know you're miserable right now with Josh."

"Completely, but not because of Josh. Dean is working on the ninth floor in my hospital."

She couldn't hide her excitement. "Oh really! Dean! Huh, the guy who broke your heart?" she cooed.

"He said I broke his," I replied dryly, completely sure of who was right.

"You did, and he broke yours. It's a sick thing to watch. So, what happened?" she asked, sipping her tea.

"He took me out to dinner and then tried to kiss me. I freaked out on him, telling him to leave me alone."

"He's married, isn't he?" she asked, trying to hide her smile. Rose had been Dean's strongest advocate and her first crush when she was a kid.

I looked at her pointedly. "He is engaged. I can't get involved with Dean. I won't. He can't be trusted." I ended it there as she looked at me in question. "And you know, as much of a sexual opportunist as I know he's always been, I never thought he'd be the type to cheat on his fiancée."

"Me neither," she said, still listening, but I could still see her faint smile.

"What?" I asked impatiently.

"Nothing, it's just that…I always saw you with Dean. Everyone did. I'm glad he's back."

"And engaged, Rose. It's just never been…right with us. Anyway, Josh showed up with his mom, and all hell broke loose. We were at Chantilly, of all places. He was treating his mom to dinner and saw me flirting with Dean in my ‘do me' dress."

"You're kidding me!" she said, laying her hand on my arm with excitement.

"Nope," I sighed, accentuating the ‘p' with the pop of my lips.

"He took you to Chantilly? Did he know about that place!" she asked with awe on her face. My sister had gone from a love-shunning moralist to a romanticist in a month. I shook my head slowly with distaste, nowhere near ready to lose her to the bright side.

"No, and, Rose, that was the right reaction to the wrong part of the story I just told you. It doesn't matter where he took me!"

"I know, but he took you to Chantilly. It's a sign!" She clapped her hands together happily as if she had been in on the secret that the universe would dump Dean at my door…or hospital.

"It's not a sign! Look, I have to get back to work. Keep your damn happy voodoo shit away from me for now. I'm happy being miserable," I said, throwing the rest of my drink in the trash.

"Why don't you give Dean a chance instead of assuming the worst about him? Talk to him and see what's going on. If I remember correctly, you're the one who screwed it all up."

"I think something is wrong there, Rose, but I can't afford to care right now. I'm working harder than ever to research what needs to be done to set up shop, not to mention my current patient load. Can we just drop it?"

"Fine, but this is Dean. God, does he still look like a completely fuckable movie star?"

"Better," I said with another sigh.

She smirked at me and grabbed my arm. "Do you really think it's Grant?"

"Isn't it?" I said, trying my best to conceal my concern. I didn't want her to see how bitter I was. She had dealt with enough when I came back from college. She knew from experience how risky it was to put your heart out there. Her personal life had been no picnic. "Be happy, little sister. You deserve it. But you know…be careful, too."

"I will. Not much I can do at this point. I'm with Grant," she said quickly as I saw a small amount of fear cross her face.

"It scares me, too, but enjoy him. I'm behind you. And I want to meet him," I said sternly. If some stoner creeper was claiming love for my sister in less than a month, I had the right to question their sanity.

"Soon," she said with a smile as she adjusted her backpack on her shoulder.

"Get to school, Whitaker. We have a practice to open."

She gave me her widest smile before she walked away. "Love you."

I walked onto Dean's floor the next day after rounds and caught him in between appointments.

"Dallas, hey," he greeted me with a smile. "I was just going to buzz you and see if you still wanted to have lunch. "

I took a step forward, not wanting the three women sitting in chairs in the waiting room to hear us. Although I was sure with the attention Dean garnered in any room he occupied, they were straining to hear.

"Do you have time for coffee now?" I asked icily. He frowned at my temperament, then nodded quickly, heading down the hall as I followed. He entered a tiny break room that furnished a small table with coffee and closed the door behind us.

"Do you still take it black?" he asked, pouring a cup and holding it out to me.

"No thanks. Look, Dean, I need to know why you're here. Why you came back, and why you're acting so damn …"

"What?" he asked carefully.

"Weird?" I said, uncertain.

"Is that a question, Dallas?" he said, taking a sip of the cup he extended to me and putting his other hand in his pocket. I followed his hand and caught myself eyeing the bulge in his pants. I expelled a harsh breath and averted my eyes, but it was too late. He set the cup down and took a step forward.

"Weird, hmmm," he said, taking another step forward. "Last time I saw you—"

"We aren't talking about then," I snapped.

"Aren't we?" he stated as he took another step forward.

"You can't be serious," I said, taking a step back toward the door.

"Why not? You're the one who said the words," he said, reaching me as he cupped my chin, trailing his thumb across my cheek and over my lips. I parted them in surprise as he licked his.

"I was twenty and na?ve. You can't hold that against me," I defended weakly.

He took another menacing step forward, so I was backed against the door. Jesus, even having coffee with him wasn't safe .

"Your fiancée," I protested as he inched closer to me, and his eyes zeroed in on my lips.

"Is my fiancée no longer, and lives in New York. It was over months ago," he said, his thumb still stroking my face.

Why hadn't he told me?

"And so now, because you're here and it's convenient for you, you think you can just…oh, I don't know, fuck me up against a door? I'm involved with another man. Get your hands off of me."

He jumped at my order, apologizing as he shoved his hands in his pockets.

"I'm sorry, that was a dick move."

"Yeah, well, it doesn't surprise me." I flinched at my own words and, in turn, apologized to him. "Look, I'm sorry, but this isn't going to happen. Whatever the hell you're thinking isn't going to come to fruition."

We stood studying each other, static heavy in the air, his intent clear. Even though I knew, I asked, "I mean, what are you thinking, Dean? What do you want?" I whispered as his eyes drifted from my lips and then to my eyes. He kept his hands in his pockets as he inched forward.

"What you promised me," he finished before briefly leaning in and capturing my lower lip before pressing his fully against mine. It was instantaneous as my heart lurched in my throat and my senses bottomed out. I clung to his shoulders, bracing myself for his kiss. The minute his soft lips began to explore, I felt every single shockwave imaginable roll through me. I moaned as his tongue slid along my mouth and opened briefly to taste him before I pushed at his chest in protest.

"Don't you ever do that again!" I said, my voice hoarse, my need for him evident.

"I'm the only man that should ever kiss you, Dallas." I was speechless. I couldn't believe what he was saying. I put my hand behind me on the door, searching for the handle, trying to think of something to say to help my situation. I had let him kiss me. I hadn't fought hard enough. I had just done to Josh what I said I'd never do.

My vagina spoke first, the greedy bitch, urging me to give in to him. I quickly shut her up by lashing out.

"I need you to respect my relationship. I've been with him for a year. This isn't some fling. He doesn't deserve this, and you…you need to forget about what I said. I was a kid, and that was a long time ago."

"You meant it," he replied with a bite, his determination unwavering. "And if I thought for one second you were truly serious about him, I might respect your relationship. Then again, you belonged to me first."

"You don't know me anymore, and I don't belong to you," I whispered heatedly as he slowly pulled his hands from his pockets and stroked both my cheeks with his thumbs, his eyes my undoing.

His breath hit my skin with his words, his hot gaze matching his threat. "Then you better leave and fast because I want you so much right now, Dally. I want to push so far into you that you remember exactly who you are and who you belong to." I gasped at his declaration, my underwear now useless as I clenched my thighs tighter together. If I stayed in the room one more minute, I would lose all control. I'd done nothing but dream of this man for years and done everything imaginable to push him out of my subconscious. All of that effort was now wasted with the kiss he'd just recaptured me with.

"You have to stop, Dean," I begged as my limbs became useless.

"I've missed you, Dallas," he whispered before he placed one last soft kiss on my lips and stepped back, still pinning me with his gaze.

Anger from years ago surfaced, and suddenly I couldn't help the emotion building in my chest. Fear crept through me again as memories of what was left of me in the wake of loving him wormed into my thoughts.

"You missed me? That's laughable. I seem to recall you walking away without looking back," I said, turning toward the door. "Leave me alone. I don't want to revisit the past."

"Dallas, I'm sorry," he said softly.

"Leave me the hell alone," I pushed out, turning the knob and walking out but not before hearing his last words.

"I can't."

Dean

Then

Days after the party, I was talking to Rob in front of the dining hall when I saw her. I stopped mid-sentence as she approached. I could tell by the way she regarded me that she was going to pretend like nothing had happened between us. But I was done pretending the minute I'd touched her.

"Dean, Rob," she greeted. She noticed my glare and stopped with a laugh. "Why, Dean, is that the look of love you're giving me?"

She was dressed in a tight T-shirt and a catholic schoolgirl skirt. I inwardly groaned as I looked her over. Still, I was too furious with her to speak. I walked away with Rob, who was still talking.

Dallas followed as I left the quad, but I ignored her. "Stop right now," she demanded as I continued to walk. "Stop, Dean," she pleaded as she followed. I kept walking and heard her cry out in surprise. I turned in time to watch her fall to the ground, her book bag flying behind her. She looked down at her knee to examine it as I joined her. Standing in front of her, I watched as she blew on her flawless skin, a slow smile forming on her lips.

She'd faked her fall.

"Nice try, Dallas," I snapped.

"It worked," she mused up at me, brushing herself off as she stood. "What's your problem?"

"You know exactly what my problem is, Dallas Whitaker."

"Oh, the first and last name…We are friends. What happened shouldn't change a thing."

I shook my head and walked away. I couldn't get my thoughts together, the hurt from her brush off building in me and fueling my anger. She followed me to the frat house and ignored the door I closed on her, opening it up with a laugh and walking upstairs just a step behind me. At my bedroom door, I reeled on her.

"Stop following me!"

She laughed out to spite me.

Spitfire.

"What's the problem? Do the girls you casually screw hold it against you?"

"I didn't casually screw you. I made love to you for hours, and you want to treat it like nothing happened between us. You clearly weren't ready," I said, convinced.

She avoided my sincerity again with another dismissive statement. "Look, I'm sorry. I didn't realize you hated it so much. It didn't seem like it to me."

"I didn't hate it, and you know it," I said quickly.

She walked over and brushed my lips with hers. "Prove it." She gripped me, finding me already hard, then let go .

I scanned her from head to toe and back up again. My mind whirled with endless scenarios and an ache I now had solely for her.

I gripped her T-shirt, jerking her inside my room. We stood face to face in front of the door, neither of us talking as my breathing picked up. I captured her lips with my teeth, biting harshly, before I tasted her, getting my fill. Her lips were completely responsive to mine as she took back with a greedy tongue before I pulled away.

"This isn't a game, Dallas," I mumbled, holding her lip between my teeth before I let it go.

"Seems like fun to me," she said in a whisper, her eyes beckoning me. She was avoiding our connection purposefully and was refusing to let me in. She had turned the tables, and I didn't know how to handle it.

"Okay, Dallas, you want to do the fuck between friends thing? I'll treat you like every other girl. Which means this," I said, leaning over as I lifted her skirt up and ran my fingers along the top of her panties, "is mine, and you will do exactly what I tell you to for as long as I tell you to, got it?" She nodded yes, her eyes filling with heat.

I turned her away from me, pressing her forehead against the door. I heard her moan as I licked the nape of her neck, and my fingers found her ready and willing. After fumbling with a condom, I was buried inside her, thrusting hard.

"This is what you want, Dally?" I questioned, pounding into her as her nails clawed the door, grappling for something to hold on to.

"God, yes, Dean. Don't stop!"

"This is all you want from me!" I lashed out, angry at how incredible she felt.

"Please…please don't stop," she begged.

"So, you like being fucked?" I bit out, slamming into her harder, deeper as I pistoned my hips.

"I like you fucking me, Dean. Don't…stop!"

I made it a slow, torturous punishment as I repeatedly stopped her from letting go every time she was on the brink .

"Let me come, Dean."

"No!"

"Let me come!"

"NO!"

She bent over further, making my reach deeper, meeting my thrust. I cursed as she tightened around me, coming hard and screaming my name. A heartbeat later, my orgasm spilled into her as I grabbed her. We slumped onto the ground, gasping for air. We both lay there half-dressed, thoroughly fucked, and panting. We didn't speak as we caught our breath, our eyes locked. I sat up after a few moments, shaking my head as I mumbled, "I never wanted to just fuck you, Dallas."

"Let it go, Dean. I'm not the girl you think I am," she fired back.

"You're exactly who I think you are…You're the girl who cleaned my house when I had an out-of-control party and passed out and was too sick to clean it for myself."

"That's what friends are for."

"You're the girl who literally talked my best friend off a ledge when he caught his girl cheating."

"Nolan was one of my best friends, too, Dean."

"You're the girl who picked me up every single day for school when I broke my leg on the senior trip."

"Yeah, I'm that girl. If you want to show me you care, be there for me always, and don't hold this against me. I did a lot of that stuff because I had a horrible crush on you. It seems silly now, don't you think? You've screwed half the girls on campus. It's just not realistic for you and me to be a couple, but I want you, Dean. I can't help it, and I know you want me, too."

"Not this way," I snapped after discarding the condom and pulling my pants up. Her words crushed me. I had no idea how to come back from that.

"Dean? Come on! This isn't fair. I waited for you for a year in high school. You never made a move. I got over it. Now you're going to hold it against me for feelings you refused to show me you had?"

"You were barely sixteen, and that sick fuck Reiner obviously didn't have a problem with it, but I did. I couldn't be physical with you and live with myself. I wanted you so badly, but if I'd touched you, I knew it would have been the end of me. You weren't ready, Dallas." I sat against the door, my knees drawn up and forearms sitting on top of them. "You were way too young for anything serious, and I couldn't handle the age difference, period."

She looked completely stunned, as if I could knock her over with a feather.

"I spent three years crying over you, Dean Martin, wondering what in the hell I'd done that was so bad to lose you. I thought it was Reiner, and you're telling me you cared for me so much you had to stay away?"

"That's exactly what I'm telling you." My heart was pounding as I laid it in her hands.

"Bullshit," she said, sliding her panties on and picking up her bag. "I'm no expert, but I'm pretty sure when you care for someone, you don't abandon them and make them think they aren't important. You tell them how much they mean to you. You touch them, you…you let them know you care…and you don't fuck everyone they know and never speak to them again."

"Is that what this is about? Who I've slept with?" I already knew the answer.

She pulled her skirt down and thought only briefly before facing me. "Maybe…High school, now here. I can't go one day without hearing what an amazing fuck you are. I mean…how can I take you seriously?" She grabbed her bag and turned toward me as I sat, still blocking the door. "At least I have first-hand knowledge now."

"Dallas, look at me," I said, commanding her attention. She slowly looked down at me, a cloud of hurt covering her face. "It stops now. I only want you."

"I am pretty much the only one left, aren't I?"

"Stop it. I haven't slept with half of the women you think I have." It was true. My reputation had preceded me. But I was still guilty, and it was hurting her again.

"Well, we all have our dirty secrets, right?"

"I know everything, Dallas," I said, tugging her hand from the floor so she was forced to look at me. I pulled myself to my feet. She pulled at the door, and I closed it, shaking my head. She let out a frustrated breath as she paced in front of me. "I know you dated Johnny Rivers your entire junior year and never slept with him. I know you went to prom with Michael Morehouse senior year and broke his nose that night because he cornered Rose at an after-party. I know you went to summer school to retake classes and raise your GPA. I know you smoked pot in the steam room on your senior trip to Florida. I know you damn near drowned in Lake Grapevine drinking with friends on the 4 th of July. I know the car you drove, the guys you dated, and of two you left brokenhearted over the summer. I also know the very fucking minute you got into that car to come here, and the reason I know is because I asked. And the reason I fucking asked is because I had to know because I couldn't wait for you to get back to me."

My heart was pounding out of control as she let out a hard breath of disbelief, mouth gaping. Twin tears slid down her face as she studied me, absorbing my words. I scooped her into my arms, declaring to her what I'd wanted to for as long as I'd known her.

"I love you, Dallas. I just couldn't do a damn thing about it until now."