Chapter Five

Dallas

Now

"God, you're beautiful. I can't wait to get you back home," Josh murmured, grabbing my hand and kissing it before putting it back in my lap. He pulled up to the hotel and gave the valet his keys, keeping his hands on me the entire time we checked in. The thoughts swirling through my head had me at the bar minutes later. I took in my surroundings and did my best to answer Josh without being curt as he spoke to me when all I wanted was to be alone with my thoughts. I was working on my third martini when I heard a familiar laugh behind me. I kept my eyes zeroed in on Josh as every nerve in my body stood at attention.

"They did a great job," Josh noted of the décor and catering. One of our first dates had been attending this same event last year. We'd had a great time and left barely clothed and racing to his apartment. We never went to sleep. Tonight, I could scarcely look at him without feeling guilty for the kiss I had participated in. I was many things, but I was not a cheater…well, until that morning. I'd kissed him back. And I would never recover from the way it felt.

"Dallas," I heard Beatrice address me and turned to smile at her, catching a glimpse of Dean behind her. He was looking right at me as I caught his gaze at a table adjacent to the bar. Miranda was planted next to him, whispering in his ear. He looked breathtaking in a classic black tuxedo. I quickly greeted Beatrice back and threw my arms around her awkwardly. She was a saving grace as she hugged me back fiercely with a chuckle.

"Still pretending you don't care, huh, baby?" she whispered in my ear as I backed away and changed the subject. "Beatrice, you know Josh," I murmured, looking up to see his eyes connected with Dean's. Josh hadn't missed his eyes on me. His glare was apparent, and I nudged him when he didn't reply.

"Beatrice," he said, a forced smile crossing his lips before shifting his gaze away from Dean to look at her, "you look beautiful."

She looked up at him and waved off his compliment. "This old dress has seen better days."

"Are you here with anyone?" I asked though the answer was obvious.

"No, my Roy died a few years back. Heart attack. He was too young," she said sadly. "I always told him if he died on me before we hit thirty years, I was a free agent, and wouldn't you know he died three days before our anniversary. Men …" She chuckled softly as I studied her masked pain.

"What are you having?" Josh asked as he waved to the bartender.

"What any woman has at these fancy things—champagne." She winked at him as he busied himself with her order.

"My, my, my child, I see number one is looking pretty damn good tonight. Now where is number two." She quickly skimmed the crowd until her eyes landed on Dean. "What I wouldn't give to be in your predicament. Those two could eat crackers in my bed anytime." I spit out a small amount of martini as I laughed loudly. "Beatrice!" I scolded half-heartedly. "What in the hell, woman! Aren't these two a little different than your taste?" I said carefully.

"Honey, I love me a good, strong white man with a bad attitude. You've never seen a picture of my Roy." She laughed, wrapping her arm around me. "When you're done with this one here, let a sister know," she teased as she grabbed the champagne from Josh and winked at him.

Beatrice is a cougar and a freak. Who knew?

"What are you two talking about?" Josh said, wrapping his arm around my waist as I stood up to start our mingling. Technically, we were obligated to do more than enjoy the free food and drinks. We were expected to engage in conversation to try to get more donations. I gripped Beatrice's arm. "You coming with me?"

"Hell no. I only get invited to these damn things because they want to make it known that the hospital is diverse in their hiring."

"Surely you don't think th—"

"The hell I don't," she said before taking a sip of champagne. "Some things never change, baby, but I'm on this ride until the end. Now go away so I can find me a hot, rich man to keep me company. You're cramping my style." I looked up to Josh, who shook his head, smiling. He grabbed my elbow to lead the way. We spent the better part of the next hour talking to several possible contributors. I spotted Dr. Pierce, who gave me a brief smile and a nod before returning to his conversation. I wondered how that was going and if the person on the other end of it was inwardly cringing.

Another bout of laughter brought my attention to Dean's table. I rolled my eyes at the number of people gathered there. It was like high school and college all over again. But now, in the scenario where he was amongst my peers, I was infuriated. It was the same pattern—women fawning all over him. His declaration that he wanted me to be his. History was repeating itself, and I was determined to change that. I circled the room furiously, rallying donations and refusing to join in with the table that seemed to be having the most fun. Josh grabbed my hand and led me to the dance floor, and I wrapped my arms around him tightly, refusing to look anywhere but at him.

"You're not having a good time. Why don't we just leave?" I looked up to see him studying me. He seemed irritated, and I couldn't help my aggravation.

"It's a work thing. It's not supposed to be fun," I said crossly.

"Babe, look, you've been on edge all day. You've swallowed more vodka tonight than you should be able to handle. It wasn't like this last year," he said, leaning in, wrapping his arms low on my waist, his thumb sliding back and forth across my bare back. I leaned in and kissed him. It wasn't a light kiss. I gave it my all as I thrust my tongue into his mouth, feeling him respond immediately with his. The couples were entertained with their own dancing, but I couldn't have cared less if the world saw us. Josh and I were good together, really good. I needed to see it. I needed to feel it. When our kiss ended, Josh pulled away, his eyes dancing and his erection brushing against my stomach.

"You better back that up when we get home," he warned as he leaned in again. "I can't even tell you how good you feel. How much I want you." I nodded as he whispered the words to me, and tears sprang to my eyes. I held him close so he couldn't see and faked a laugh so anyone watching wouldn't have a clue that I was falling apart inside. When the song was over, Josh led me back to the bar.

"One more?" he asked with a laugh. "Are you sure you can handle it?" I nodded, no longer able to keep from scanning the crowd. I spotted Beatrice on the dance floor with a younger attractive man and burst out laughing at how odd they looked.

"What's so funny?" Dean said, stepping into my line of vision and filling it with his tux-clad body. On his right stood Miranda, who looked beautiful in a floor-length black gown and was studying him as if he hung the moon.

"Miranda, Dean, how are you? Having fun?" I inquired, thankful when Josh was almost instantly by my side, handing me a fresh martini.

"Here, babe," he interrupted, holding me tightly to him.

"We are. How are you, Josh?" Dean replied, extending his hand. Josh stiffened next to me but didn't hesitate to shake it. "I'm good, Dean, thanks."

"Joshua Stephenson!" Miranda exclaimed in a squeak. Josh studied her briefly before beaming a smile of recognition her way. "Miranda, how are you?"

They both looked incredulous, and I knew then that they had a history. I rolled my eyes, downing my martini, and saw Dean's lips curl into a sly grin as he gauged my reaction.

"It's been…my God, how long has it been?" she said, wrapping her claws around my boyfriend and planting a firm kiss on his lips. I took a step away as they studied each other and started to reminisce. I shook my head at the ceiling of the ballroom.

Son of a bitch!

The next twenty minutes were an exchange of ‘remember that time'…as Dean and I stood there, humoring their reunion by smiling and nodding. Josh held me closely, entertaining her and eyeing Dean and me at the same time. Apparently, they had been high school sweethearts, and it was almost impossible to stop my gag when she called him ‘Joshy'.

"You look beautiful," Dean offered as I ripped away from Josh's side to order another martini. I was going to pay like hell for this tomorrow. "Thanks, Dean," I said dryly, doing whatever I could to discourage him.

"He hates me," Dean observed, his breath hitting my ear with his admission. Josh's watchful eyes darted over to us, and I damn near jumped out of my skin until Dean grabbed his drink from the bar next to me and pulled back. "He should hate me," Dean said, amused as he took a long pull of his scotch.

I turned on him, my words full of spite. "And why is that, because you had your tongue in my mouth this morning?" I said casually so those around us wouldn't catch on.

"No, because I want it in your mouth right now. Tell me, Dallas, did he kiss you as well on that dance floor as I did earlier?" My mouth dried quickly as I choked down a sip of vodka.

"Go to hell," I said, furious.

"You're drunk." He chuckled as he studied me. I took a few swallows of my drink despite him.

"We aren't kids anymore, Dean. Did it ever occur to you that I might just be kissing him for my own benefit?" I said, eyes wide and mocking, my mini-me putting up her boxing gloves in the corner of my mind. My vagina screamed at me that I wouldn't feel a thing tonight or any night if I didn't stop drinking.

"No," he answered quickly, "you never really have played fair, have you?" His voice was filled with ice as I looked over to see Miranda inching closer to Josh.

"Your date is getting awfully cozy with my boyfriend, Dean," I noted as he kept his focus on me.

"I didn't come with her," he admitted easily.

"Oh," I said absently, the pressure in my head easing slightly. It was official. I was hitting the inevitable wall one hits when they have had an asinine amount of vodka. I was going down, and I was going fast.

"Well, just so you know," I said, my head now resembling what I was sure was a bobblehead, "I hate that you're home. I hate that you're here ," I hissed as I pushed his chest with my finger. "You are the same arrogant, conceited, imposing bastard you've always been. And this whole thing you do with everyone around you, like you're some gift…makes me sick," I slurred as his eyebrows rose higher and higher with every word.

"Wow, tell me how you really feel," he said, taking my martini out of my hand and setting it on the bar beside me.

"You're not everything you think you are…You…hurt," I said shakily. "You hurt the people who care about you."

I watched his face fall as he took in my words. "What are you going to do when she falls for you, Dean? Huh?" I pointed to Miranda. "Let her down gently? Are you going to abandon her when she declares her love? Is that what you did to your fiancée?"

"Yep, you're wasted," he said, motioning for Josh.

"And I'm right," I snapped, motioning for Josh myself. He came quickly.

"Go get the car. I'll bring her to you," Dean said as Josh approached.

"What's going on?" he demanded as he looked my way. I shrugged my shoulders and had to take a step back and lean against the bar to keep from falling to my knees.

"Oh, shit, babe," he looked at Dean for a second as if he was going to argue but then told him. "She won't last much longer. Don't let them see her like this. Give me four minutes." Dean nodded as I turned to address him.

"Really, I'm fine—"

Dean grabbed my arm and started walking. I followed him, determined to make it to the hotel entrance. This was…bad.

"Fuck, Dally, I don't think I've ever been so pissed off at you," he hissed in my ear as we passed through the ballroom doors. "I'll forgive you for what you said to me…eventually. But what the hell do you really know?"

"I know you want what you can't have," I said heatedly as he came to a halt in the lobby.

He moved in front of me, then pulled me to his chest, his face twisted in fury as my head began to spin. I sucked in a breath at the intensity of his stare. He was close, too close. His eyes burned into me, making my lips part on a silent gasp. He towered over me as I felt his body tremble in anger. I studied his strong dark brows, perfectly sculpted face, and full lips. I wanted him in that moment more than I wanted anything in a long time. "I'm going to make up my mind on exactly how much of this shit I intend to swallow, and I have a feeling it won't be much more."

I ripped myself away from his embrace. He refused my retreat, grabbing my arms and holding them behind my back with one hand, his lips inches from mine, his stare murderous. A slow burn started inside me and quickly spread as I watched him. His expression turned smug as he read my reaction to him. I twisted against him, my body betraying me. Angry with the sudden need to give in, I quickly started rambling. "Do yourself a favor, old buddy. Go fu—"

He pressed his fingers to my mouth, muting my words. "You loved me once, Dallas Whitaker. You loved me, and I loved you." His eyes beckoned me for acknowledgment, and when I remained quiet, he cursed, dragged me outside, and practically threw me in Josh's passenger seat.

"Have a great night, Dally. It was memorable," Dean said, leaning over me to buckle my seat belt. Tears threatened as I inhaled his scent and studied his profile, every fiber of my being leaning in toward him. He addressed Josh next. "She's all yours," he bit out before glaring at me again, slamming my door before heading back inside. The next few hours were a blur of porcelain and cold showers, and then I finally drifted to the place I'd been praying to visit all day—darkness.

Dean

Then

"What?" She grinned.

"Nothing." I grinned back.

She was sitting opposite me on our dilapidated, pea-green couch, perched cross-legged with a pen cap in her mouth. Luckily, we were alone. It was Saturday after all, and my militant girlfriend had insisted we spend it studying.

"Well, now that you have taken my attention away from my studies, Dr. Martin, you have to tell me."

"No, I don't," I taunted, holding her socked foot in my lap, my thumb making slow, deliberate circles on the skin of her ankle. "I love it when you call me doctor."

"Well, you might get the title first, but we both know I'll wipe the floor with your ass in recognition and publication. Now stop," she said, jerking her foot away from me. "I need to study."

"What a completely unsupportive and bullshit statement. Don't be jealous, Dallas. There's room for both of us."

"Hmph, have you chosen your specialty yet?" I ignored her as I resumed my slow, seductive torture. I would get her back for it my way, which would be her begging for mercy beneath me.

"I didn't think so." She looked back down at her book with a slight smile on her lips, trying to ignore the effect I had on her.

We'd spent the last month hitting the books and exhausting each other in bed. I couldn't get enough of her, and I knew she felt the same. Most nights, she would finish class, then head over to the frat house to cook huge meals for the guys. She was a horrible cook, and none of us had the heart to tell her, instead choosing to scarf down her offering. They were more than helpful with her in the kitchen and even more appreciative after, but I was learning to ignore it. I'd made it very clear she belonged to me, and they gave us hell as they chanted some of the things they'd heard through the walls.

Classless.

I'd considered renting an apartment so we could spend the rest of my last year in peace, but Dallas insisted it didn't matter, and she actually liked hanging with the guys. And she was right—she fit. We fit, and I couldn't have imagined it any better. Even her bitchy roommate, Cammie, would make an appearance at the frat house once in a while. I only humored her because she seemed protective of Dallas, which made her my ally.

I raked my fingertips softly up her legs, underneath her sweats, and she batted my hand away.

"I'll leave," she warned as I crawled toward her.

"It's Saturday, Dr. Whitaker," I murmured, gripping the side of the couch as I hovered above her. She slunk down into the cushion, hiding her smile.

"Flattery will get you nowhere, Dean. I have a test Monday!" Her words were exasperated, but her heaving chest told me all I needed to know. I leaned down and took her lips in a slow kiss. She pushed the book that was lying on her chest to the floor.

"You're an animal," she said between kisses, pulling my shirt over my head. I shut her up with my tongue, and she caught it, sucking hard. My already hard dick twitched in appreciation. I pulled back to gaze down at her.

"I'm your animal."

"Finally."

"Spaniard!" I heard Dallas call from across the quad. I laughed as I watched her running toward me. "Spaniard, I did it!"

She made a beeline for me, a single piece of paper in her hand. She didn't slow as she approached, hurling herself at me, landing on me with enough force to knock me off my feet. I felt the thud in my back as she straddled my hips, kissing my face mercilessly.

"Yes, Dallas?" I said with a chuckle as her lips rained repeated kisses over my face.

"I did it, Spaniard. I aced it!"

"And this surprises you. Why?" I looked around as people stopped to gape at us. Dallas ignored them. All she saw was me.

"I thought I was going to have to break up with you."

I sat up, gripping the sides of her head. "What?" I forced her to look at me, panic shooting through my every limb.

"Yeah, I was worried you were too much of a distraction. Too much sex. Just altogether a horrible influence. You know I would have to get rid of you and start dating a mathlete. Someone a little more serious about his education."

I pushed her off my lap as she fell to the grass, chuckling. It was starting to get colder, and I slipped my freezing hand under her sweater, making her scream out.

"Funny, Dallas. Always trying to bring out the angry Spaniard in me."

"Well," she said, pressing her lips to mine, "you can put him away. You're safe for now."

Pushing her hair back from her face, I leaned in. "Mathlete? Please don't insult me, and aim a little higher."

"Okay, well, there is this one guy in pre-law. I may be able to look over the fact that he wears socks with sandals. I mean, after all, my boyfriend dresses like he belongs in The Tabernacle Choir."

A month later, I was waiting for her to finish packing for Thanksgiving break. We were going home to spend time with our parents, and for the first time, we were officially together.

We both carried our class load with ease—the same goal in mind. I admired her when she pushed me out of her doorway for some much-needed catch-up or sleep. When she'd finally let her guard down enough to let me in completely, she mirrored my behavior in affection. I hadn't heard the words cross her lips and was being patient about it. I'd never thought myself a romantic fool before. I'd never had to be, never wanted to be, until her.

She was still my spitfire in every way, constantly challenging me with her sharp tongue and as persistent as ever to bring out the angry Spaniard in me—which she did often. I loved every minute of it.

I loved her.

I watched as Dallas and Cammie went back and forth as she finished packing, Cammie eyeing me suspiciously. She was a pill. A few of my frat buddies had attempted a shot at her but were quickly shut down. She seemed to have a stick up her ass that gave the effect of a bowlegged stance. She was a cute girl, just not cute enough for the amount of bullshit one would have to endure to date her. She held some sort of grudge, and it was obvious. Dallas rolled her eyes at me in jest as Cammie went on and on about her last date. She seemed to want my opinion as she eyed me every other sentence. I offered nothing. I just wanted to get my girl alone, and no sooner had she shut her suitcase did I take her hand, hauling her out the door after a quick hug with Cammie .

"You don't like her." Dallas chuckled as I dragged her down the stairs leading out of her dorm.

"I wouldn't say that," I denied, carrying her ten-ton bag through the quad toward the parking lot.

"No, you wouldn't," she smarted back.

"Let's go home, spitfire," I said, giving her a smile as we closed our car doors.

"Spitfire?" she questioned with a smile. "I think I like it."

"You would," I chuckled, starting the car as Dean Martin's greatest hits played in the background. I held her hand for the entire five hours to Dallas as she rattled on about the medical practice she and Rose had decided to open. Rose would be a surgeon. She was excited when she spoke about it, and in a way that told me that any hopes I had of her joining me in New York were premature. She had planned her future as well, and as far as I could tell, I wasn't a part of it.

Looking over at her as she spoke animatedly, I decided to change that. The crippling fear in my chest told me I had to.

We'd spent our first day at her house catching up with her family. I watched Rose and Dallas interact, completely different this time around. Rose was now fifteen and seemed to have a little hero worship for her big sister. It was a far cry from the Tom and Jerry act I was used to when it came to them. They seemed closer and spent a good amount of time whispering. Rose, true to her no-bullshit nature, brought up our relationship status in front of the entire family—including their older brother Paul, who had always threatened no less than death if I touched his sister.

"So, you two finally hooked up," Rose said without apology as Dallas spat out her salad and glared at her.

Her mom was the first to speak up. "About time." She winked with an added smile.

"It could've waited longer," her dad said pointedly at me. I coughed and swallowed my entire beer as his lips twitched with a smile. I had a deep respect for Seth Whitaker. I only felt slightly guilty for the misconduct I had planned for the next few days. She was finally mine, and not even he could dampen that fact.

"All of you shut up, or we're staying at Dean's until the end of break," Dallas said with an apologetic smile at me. I simply shook my head and grinned. Seth replaced my beer, and I knew then it was all in jest.

I felt at home with them all as we watched the Cowboys get their asses kicked, and we collectively yelled at the screen. Dallas sat beside me, my arm around her shoulders, her legs tucked beneath her. Halfway through the game, I caught her eyeing me, the look on her face bringing me back to a time when I couldn't tell her how I felt. She didn't shy away from being caught. She simply smiled, her eyes telling me all I needed to know. I took full advantage now as her beautiful, green gaze caused an explosion in my chest.

I leaned in slowly, eyes locked on hers, before I whispered in her ear. "When you look at me that way, baby, I feel invincible. Nothing else fucking matters…nothing. I love you, Dallas." I saw the sting of tears as she kept her eyes on mine, and I backed away slowly as she nodded into my chest, wrapping her arms around me tightly. An angry scream at the TV shook us both out of the moment. It might have been broken, but it lingered between us, ever-present, the energy pulsing around letting us know we were right. We got it right with each other. I held her tighter to me as she laughed at her dad, who threw an entire bowl of pretzels at the TV, and her mom cursed him and the Cowboys for his ill mood.

At my house, Dallas spent a few hours helping my mom in the kitchen as she drilled her incessantly on whether or not I was being a good boy. I rolled my eyes and was smacked on the back of the head as my mom explained to Dallas that a good turkey was covered in butter underneath the skin. She never missed an opportunity to teach. Dallas glared at me as I prompted her to pay close attention. My dad reacquainted himself with Dallas and questioned her while letting his eyes drift to me every so often. He knew how I felt about her, as did my mom. It was obvious and always had been. I didn't have to say a word. I could see the small amount of worry he held for the future we had planned together. He never cornered me, not once asking me if my plans were changing. He was letting me handle it the way he often did—on my own. I loved that about him. He trusted me, and though I was a lot like him in some respects, he also catered to the side that had nothing to do with him. Honestly, I think he was just as smitten with Dallas as I was. She was a hard girl to resist. I should know.

She made me feel superior to other men just by breathing my name.

After the turkey had been devoured—at not one but both our houses—we separated reluctantly. Dallas had left my parents with leftovers at my mom's insistence, though Dallas repeatedly told her they had far too many at her own house.

I was settling in for a long night without her. I couldn't stop thinking about what little time I had left with her. How everything would change the minute I left for New York. She had seven years left to my four. It seemed impossible. I would never ask her to give it up, and there laid the problem. She would never ask that of me, either. It was our common goal that threatened to tear us apart.

I heard a scrape at my window but ignored it. A few seconds later, I heard a lot of the same and looked out my bedroom window, jerking it open in alarm. "Dean!" Dallas was sliding down the shingles of the roof near hysterics, gripping them for dear life. I opened the window just in time to catch one arm before she fell off the roof and broke her neck.

"What in the hell are you doing?" I asked as she cried into my shoulder, shaken up from her near face plant with the concrete. She shook violently as I consoled her. I paused and twisted her to look at me. Her tears had turned into laughter, the laugh I loved where it was about to burst out of her. I clamped my hand over her mouth just in time to catch it and shoved us into a closet. Her howling wouldn't stop as I did my best to silence her. I didn't know how my parents would react to finding her in the house, my mom being the most imminent threat. I finally gave up my struggle to keep control, picturing her out there grasping at straws, and started laughing hard as well. We stood there for five minutes in a dark closet before she finally slowed enough to speak.

"Well, that sooo did not go how I pictured it," she said. With tears in her eyes, we exited the dark space and stepped into the bedroom.

"That was fucking ridiculous and dangerous," I scorned, shaking my head, unable to hide my chuckle. "What the hell were you thinking?" I grabbed her hands, which were cut pretty badly, and walked over to get a cold washcloth. I wiped them clean and started to work out a splinter in her palm.

"I came here," she said, her voice now shaking with nervousness. Her jade eyes were shimmering with emotion, and I stilled my hand. "I came here to tell you I love you too, always have."

I smiled. "I know." Elation seeped through my every pore as her face fell into a frown.

She shot up out of the bed, yanking her hand away and pointing at the window. "I damn near bit the pavement out there, and all you have to say is I know?" She now had her torn-up hands on the hips of her yoga pants, pants I had repeatedly told her I despised. The attire was typical for Texas this time of year, and her hair was a misted mess from the threat of rain. She'd never looked more beautiful.

"Sé que estoy hablando con mi otra mitad. Siempre lo he sabido, mi amor."

"Dean Jeffrey Martin, I don't speak Spanish!" she said in a harsh whisper.

"I know," I said mischievously as I joined her at the window. I reached in and tasted her lips, all the protest slipping from her as I repeated what I'd just said so she understood. "I know when I'm speaking to the other half of me. I've always known, my love."

There was a whoosh of air as her lips puffed out. "That night, I—" I pressed my finger to her lips.

I knew what she was asking about. She was wondering what I said the night of Reiner's party. "It was more of the same."

She suddenly looked guilty, and I refused to entertain it. As far as I was concerned, she was always mine. "Dean," she offered, but I silenced her with my kiss and took her to my bed, where I took her twice, saying words she couldn't translate and making her understand them, anyway.

Dallas

Now

I woke up with a headache I would classify as terminal. I had a water bottle in my hand, and once the contents had been drained, I looked over to my right to see Josh sleeping peacefully. I stumbled from his bed, desperately seeking to fill the bottle, and only made it as far as the bathroom and stubbed my toe on his cabinet door.

"Son of a bitch!" I declared to the cabinet as I pushed through the pain and put my bottle under the faucet for a refill. I was downing my third bottle when Josh came in and stood in the doorway, reaching up to brace himself on the frame.

"Nice," he said, chuckling as he watched me struggle with my jeans, my bare ass to him.

"How could you let me drink that much? No, no, it's my fault," I said, barely able to get the words out. " I'm so sorry. I don't know what came over me. Do you still like me?" I said, barely able to look at him.

"I won't bother with a play-by-play, but you were the worst-case scenario. Seriously, woman, you cannot handle your alcohol. And you made me plug in your phone and blare old-school Snoop Dog the entire way home."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"Oh, my God," I said, burying my head in my hands.

"You also ate an entire box of Captain Crunch and forced me to watch The Notebook," he said, his smile faltering. "That was unforgivable."

"Oh, shit, Josh. Really—"

"No, no, you can't take it back, Dallas." He chuckled. "And I won't forget it."

"Great, I thought you said you weren't going to give me a play-by-play."

"I lied. Kinda like you did… Dally," he said, his tone changing. I looked up to see him turn and walk out of the bathroom. He must have heard Dean call me Dally.

Shit. Well, if the hangover doesn't kill me, guilt might. I should just convert to Catholicism.

"Josh, look," I started, seeing him crawl back into bed.

"Who is he to you?" he asked, leaning back and clasping his hands behind his head.

"My past. Just some guy from my past and nothing more."

"Hmph," he said, rolling over with his back to me.

"Come on, babe, don't do this to me. I'm dying," I said, approaching the bed, willing to beg.

"You never call me babe. You're so guilty," he said, lifting his arm to indicate I was welcome back in bed. I quickly crawled under the covers and drifted back to sleep. I woke up with a start, seeing I had just enough time to brush my teeth and fly to work to make rounds.

"Josh!" I said, screaming through his apartment with my bag in hand. He handed me a coffee in a paper cup just as his cell phone alarm went off. "You had almost half an hour, Dallas. I wasn't about to let you sleep in." He chuckled as I kissed him, thanking him profusely, then walked out the door.

I sat in my car, sipping my designer coffee, feeling more determined about the man I should be concentrating on.

You love Josh .