Eight

Eight

DESI

The last two days have been utter hell. Jace refuses to look at me, and, if I'm lucky, he might grumble a good morning or an excuse me as he maneuvers around me. Beyond that, our communication is nonexistent, and I'm tired of this game.

"Why is it you can leave your shoes scattered about or forget your cup on the coffee table, but I rearrange the pillows on the couch, and Jace loses his shit?" I ask.

Cannon peers around the refrigerator door and cocks a brow. "You act as if I'm a complete slob."

I lean against the island and cross my arms over my stomach. "Well, compared to Jace's ridiculously high standards, you kind of are," I say, and when he looks at me with an offended expression, I raise my hands in defense. "Hey, it's not your fault he expects something so far beyond perfection that it's impossible."

"True. One bowl in the sink will not cause the world to crumble around him." Cannon returns to the counter with all the fixings for turkey sandwiches. Without getting a plate out of the cupboard, he prepares our lunch directly on the granite—an act that would send Jace into an epic meltdown. "Why don't you just talk to him? The man is a pretty good listener, not to mention really funny."

I've seen Jace's funny side a couple of times, and it's a side I really, really like. But ever since we argued and nearly kissed—or whatever the hell happened—he hasn't shown me any side except the angry one, and it's intimidating as hell.

"I've tried to talk to him. I've tried opening up to him. It's like we take one step forward and two steps back. I just think that somewhere deep down, or maybe not so deep down, he doesn't like me. That there's just something about me he can't stand. He likes you. Me, not so much."

Cannon sets the used knife on top of the jar of mayo and slaps the top slice of bread over the meat and cheese. He grabs two plates from their shelf and tosses our food on top. "You're overthinking this, Desi. You've had guys walk out on you, never call you back, and stand you up, but you're here worrying about Jace. You need to do something to get your mind off him."

I pick up the sandwich and tell him thank you before shoving a bite into my mouth. I haven't eaten all day, and I am what Glen likes to call hangry.

"You're right, you're right. I just hate that he's my roommate and we can't seem to get along for more than a couple of days at a time," I say after swallowing and taking a drink of tea. "You're right, doing something else sounds fun. But what? Ideas?" I take another bite of my sandwich and drum my fingernails on the countertop.

"Do I have permission to cash in on that second date?"

I think for a moment. I don't want it to seem like I'm going out with Cannon because I'm pissed at Jace, because that isn't the case at all. Cannon is funny, sweet, sexy, and he wants to take me out and show me a good time. Isn't that what I'm here for?

"Absolutely."

"I feel like you've got a little aggression you need to work off. Dress warm and comfortable and meet me down here in twenty. I'm going to take you somewhere that you can pretend you're sticking it to Jace Wilder."

"Now that, I like the sound of."

Twenty minutes later, we're in Cannon's Lexus and he's driving us to some undisclosed location. I am questioning my choice of clothing when he keeps talking about how cold it is outside.

"Did I dress warmly enough?" I ask, looking down at my black yoga pants, purple puffer jacket, and the white running shoes I've finally broken in. "You keep mentioning the cold, and I'm getting paranoid."

"We are going to be outside, but don't worry, I'll make sure you stay warm."

We drive to the outskirts of the city and Cannon pulls into a dirt parking lot with a wooden sign advertising archery. My insides roll at the thought of me using a new weapon. My father and brothers are versed in all manners of combat, but I never found joy in it like they did. So I was taught the basics of self-defense and left to lounge by the pool or spend time with friends.

Cannon opens the passenger-side door and holds his hand out to me. "You ready to burn some energy by shooting things with arrows?"

I take his hand but hesitate before moving to get out of the car. "I—uh, would you believe me if I told you I've never shot a bow and arrow before? I have no idea how to do it."

"Maybe that's all part of my devious plan to get close to you."

I smile as I climb out of the car and let him pull me against his side. I don't let go of his hand as I say, "Well, please, continue. I'd love to see where this plan takes us."

I glance at Cannon from the corner of my eye as we walk into the building to rent bows and arrows. He looks good with his gray hoodie and black jacket, but it's his joggers that send my mind to deep, dark places. They remind me of the joggers that sit low on someone else's hips.

"Ready?" Cannon asks, snapping me out of my wandering thoughts.

I literally jump and hold out my hand for the weapon. "Yep. Yep. I'm ready. Let's go pretend the target is Jace's grumpy face."

He shakes his head and laughs, leading me to the back of the building where several individual shooting ranges are lined up with targets at each end. We set down our quivers and Cannon walks me through some basics. He's a great teacher—patient, descriptive, and very hands on when he shows me how to nock an arrow.

"This is going to take some upper body strength, so don't get too frustrated if you fall short the first few times you shoot," he says from behind me, helping me aim at the target.

I hold back my grin. Even without regular exercise, I have upper body strength for days compared to a human, but I do have a feeling my aim is going to suck. I let him guide my arm to assist with the aiming. When I let go of the arrow, although it's nowhere near the target, it hits the board with a loud thump.

I look over my shoulder at him and smile. "What were you saying about falling short?"

He holds his hands up and smiles. "Not a damn thing. You might be a natural at this. Let's just hope that you're not begging for your arms to fall off tomorrow."

I give him a wink and ready the next arrow. He moves behind me again, adjusting my stance. I shiver when his hand grips my hip and turns it a bit. The small liberty he takes sends my insides fluttering. "Just pretend the middle is Jace with that exasperated look on his face when you don't do something just the way he likes it, and let it fly."

I snort and say, "All right. I think I can do that." I draw my elbow back, and when the arrow is ready to fly, I release it, and this time it sails all the way to the board and hits the bottom of the target.

Cannon laughs and wraps his arm around my waist, pulling me against him. "Well, at least you shot him in the balls."

"So, you think I'm a threat with a bow and arrow?"

"Oh, you're absolutely a threat. There's something hot about a woman who can wield a weapon."

My face lights up at the compliment. When I was younger, my brothers were always faster and stronger. I remember my father patting them on the back when they perfected more complex training moves. It was hard not to feel jealous in those moments. For the first time, I feel like I could receive that same praise from my father.

"I just might start walking around with a quiver and bow. It would be pretty badass."

Cannon raises an eyebrow and chuckles. "That would be intimidating to future suitors. Which might not be a bad thing for me; I'd have a clear path."

"You're the only ‘suitor' who hasn't ever stood me up or gone running for the hills. Or wasn't boring as hell."

He purses his lips and lifts his fingers to a curl that hangs in front of my eye. Brushing it back he says, "It's a shame for the other guys. They have no clue that they're missing out on spending time with an amazing woman. Have I told you how much I like being around you?"

My skin flushes and I reach up to capture his fingers with mine. "A time or two. But I wouldn't mind hearing it again."

"I like being around you, Desi. It doesn't matter what we do, just being in your presence is enough. Watching movies, eating dinner, shooting arrows into fake Jace's junk, it's all fun."

He's right; it is fun. Hanging out with Cannon is like spending the day with my best friend. It's comfortable and easy. We can talk about anything or nothing at all and never have an awkward moment. It's been a while since I felt that way around someone.

"I know what you mean," I say, taking a seat on the bench against the wall and resting the bow between my knees. Cannon sits down beside me and places his hand on my leg, his thumb moving in comforting circles. "You like hanging out with me better than Jace?" I lean into him, shoving his shoulder playfully.

He rolls his eyes, seeing my question for what it is. I'm feeling a little down after my fight with Jace, and I just need to know that what went on between us isn't because I'm unlikeable. It's stupid and childish, but I can't help feeling that way.

"You and Jace aren't on the same playing field. In fact, you two are very different pastimes. He's LARPing, and you're ice skating, with tight outfits and extremely entertaining maneuvers. Both are fun to watch and keep me intrigued."

"LARPing?"

"It's people in costumes pretending—it's nerdy, very nerdy."

"So I'm just not as nerdy as he is?" I tilt my head back and forth. "I guess I can go with that." I sigh and lay my head on his shoulder. "I just wish he weren't so angry all the time, ya know? There have been a few times when we've all gotten along so well, and I've had so much fun with both of you. I wish it could be like that all the time."

He stretches his neck so he can see my face. "Is that a hint of longing I hear? I'd almost venture to say you like Jace more than you're letting on."

I chew the inside of my cheek as my face heats. "I—well, that didn't really come out right. I didn't mean, like, in that way. I just meant—"

"He is good looking,"

"You're good looking."

"He owns a business and drives a BMW."

I flick my wrist at him and shake my head. "Not that either of those things matter, but you drive a pretty killer Lexus."

"He watches you whenever he's eating that sugary cereal he loves."

"Peanut butter puffs." I jerk my head away from his shoulder. "I know because he asks me to buy them whenever I go to the grocery store."

Cannon hums and crosses his arms. "I get it, Desi. Like I told you from the very beginning, he's been hurt. I understand not wanting to get involved with his personal turmoil, but it doesn't mean you're not attracted to him."

I'm still stuck on what Cannon said. He watches you whenever he's eating that sugary cereal he loves.

"What do you mean?" I blurt, unable to stop myself. "What do you mean, he watches me? I'm not just going to let you speed right past that one."

"I mean, maybe he freaks out on you because he's scared to like you. Maybe Jace Wilder is just as confused about you as you are about him."

No way is Jace conflicted about me. We spend too much time driving each other up the wall. He's organization and healthy foods and caution. I'm chaos. He didn't even want me to move into his house. I begged him until he couldn't say no.

"And what about you?" I ask. "How do you feel about all of this?"

He licks his lips and pivots his body toward mine. "I like you, Desi. A lot. But I understand that dating is new to you. I'm not looking to make you choose. You do what makes you happy. If you like spending time with me like this, then let's continue to do it. And if you decide you want to take things further, know I'm a willing participant."

Is it really that simple?After all the terrible dates, men standing me up, the run-in with Patrick at the club, Cannon is willing to just let me run the show? Let me make the decisions? Maybe this dating thing isn't so hard after all.

"Okay. That's fair." My stomach rumbles, and I place my hand over it with a giggle. "But right now, can we go get food? I'm starved."

"Deal. Let's go find some fried pickles."