Page 28 of Dash

“I told him I was a messy bitch and he replied with sleep, like I’m a fucking overtired toddler.”

I still don’t know what that meant.

“You are an overtired bitch, Dayna. But that’s not the key here. It’s the other things he did before that monosyllabic reply.”

“Staring at me like a disappointed father?”

“Babe, nothing about his actions say father. The man put you on the back of his bike wearing his hoodie and his helmet.”

I’m still wearing the former. I let the sleeves fall down over my hands like it can protect me from whatever truths Katie is about to lay on me.

“It was cold and I’ve never ridden before. He didn’t want my brain splattered on the road if I fell off.”

“He did that after standing between you and a guy who was trying to hurt you.”

“He’s a gentleman.” He most certainly is not when he fucked. He took me like he wanted to ruin me in the best ways.

“He then carried you into the building,” she continues, ignoring my protests, “got angry about the fact your security system is a load of shit, which I love him for by the way because your building might as well have a beacon saying rapists and murderers this way, and he still replied to you when you sent him a spiralling message.”

Hope surges in my chest. I shouldn’t let it blossom, but it feels good to have something.

“I thought he wanted to have sex again.”

“Well, he probably did. You’re any guy’s wet dream, babe. And the man has eyes.”

“Okay, that was weirdly sweet.”

She snorts. “I’ll give you shit in a minute. For now you need to hear me. That man likes you, Dayna, and not because you’ll fuck him. There are easier ways to get laid than what he did.”

Maybe… I don’t know anymore.

I sigh. “It doesn’t matter anyway. Whatever chance I had with him is done. I fucked up.” That ache in my chest is so painful now I can hardly breathe. I don’t want it to be done, but that’s not my choice.

This is why you don’t fall for people.Getting hurt, feeling something, it’s too much.

“Babe, you did fuck up.”

I snap my gaze to her, my eyes narrowing. “Your pep talk sucks.”

“You don’t want a pep talk. You want truth. You were a bitch. You already know that. So just message him and apologise. Make it right.”

“And what am I supposed to say? Sorry I’m such a neurotic mess? Sorry I insulted your… honour.”

She snorts. “His honour?”

“I don’t know. These bikers have weird senses of right. Look at Mace and Riot.”

“Okay, well, first off leave honour out of it and just message him like a normal human.”

There’s a boulder sitting in my gut. “I already did that last night and his response wasn’t exactly endorsing.”

Her sigh is exasperated, and I can’t even blame her for that. “Woman, just text him to collect his hoodie.”

“Oh. Yeah. That’s actually a good idea, though I kind of don’t want to give it back. It’s really warm and soft.”

And it smells of him. I totally did not sleep with it like some kind of security blanket.

“The hoodie is the excuse to get him here, genius.” She flicks my forehead hard enough to leave a mark.

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