The door across the hall opens, and Allison comes out, blinking furiously like a mole that’s been pulled unceremoniously from its burrow.
“Morning,” she says, sounding muffled.
My head pulses. “Oh. Good morning.”
“Last night was kind of crazy,” she says.
“Yeah.”
We don’t speak as she makes coffee, and we both sit down and sip it quietly.
“Did anyone text Dallas?”
“Yeah. Gentry let him know where you were.”
“Good,” I say, because as mad at him as I am, I don’t want him to actually worry about me. I sigh heavily. “I’m going to have to get back home. But I don’t have a car.”
“I can take you,” Allison says.
“Really?”
“Yeah. I don’t mind. But I do need to… maybe take a shower first.”
“Fair.”
While she does that, I sit there and stare at the wall, my thoughts tripping over themselves. I was ridiculous and overreacted last night, but he did too. I shouldn’t have thrown anything at him, though.
I’ve actually never been overprotected.
Not by anyone but myself.
So even though Dallas was ridiculous, I should have been a little bit… I don’t know. More grateful? Grateful that somebody finally cares what happens to me at all?
That thought makes me growl. What an obnoxious situation to find myself in.
Allison emerges a few minutes later, and we load up into the truck. I put my hand on my forehead.
“Is he always that jealous?” she asks.
I huff a laugh. “He wasn’tjealous. He’s overprotective of me. That’s it.”
“I’m not an expert, but it looked like jealousy.”
Jealousy. Like maybe he wishes he were dancing with me, not Colt. Like maybe he wants to touch me…
Just thinking about it makes me breathless. But where would it even go? We’re so dysfunctional. I don’t even know what sex would be like for me. What if we have sex and I hate it? Or he kisses me and I punch him in the face?
What if my rabid raccoon self scratches his eyes out and feasts on them while I growl in the corner?
Worse, what if I love it and I get obsessed with him and I can’t get enough of him? What if I send myself back to the hell that is longing for Dallas Dodge without ever being able to really have him? But this time with sex involved. This time with him in my life, but not…
What do I want?
I have too many questions, and no answers to any of them.
So it’s best to just not think about this at all. And certainly not act on it.
“Trust me,” I say. “It’s not. And even if it were, he wouldn’t be able to do anything about it. I wouldn’t doanything about it.” I clutch my seatbelt. The edges of it dig into my hands. “We’re in kind of a weird codependent relationship. I’m not sure what the answer to that is. I’m not sure what we can do to be healthier or better or… but I don’t want to lose him. So, I need to apologize for everything that happened last night. Because I really should be more grateful for him. He’s the only family I have, and I let my temper get the best of me.”
