Page 44 of The Burdens We Share
I pout, “Aw, no ‘Little Devil?’”
His nostrils flare in anger and I wink at him, rolling onto my side and giving him my back like he gave me before. “Goodnight, Dallas.”
Silence ensues and for a second, I actually think I’ve won. I think I’ve silenced Dallas Carter and made a point. I’m fully convinced I made a point and that I’ve stunned him until an arm wraps around my waist and lifts me off the ground in one fell swoop. “Hey!”
Dallas tosses me onto the bed and I try to struggle, but he pins my wrists down and angles his face so that it’s only inches away from mine, “You do not fucking move.”
I struggle beneath him in disobedience and feel a hard length pressing against my stomach. My eyes widen and I suck in a small breath. Dallas takes in my face and immediately releases my wrists, taking a few steps away and putting distance between us. He’s hard. His pinning me down like that made him hard. My nipples stiffen into peaks most likely noticeable through my thin tank top since I’m not wearing a bra. I want him over me again, I want his mouth on mine, his skin on mine. I want it so badly, that I could completely melt right where I am, but after the events of tonight, I know it isn’t in the cards for us at the moment.
I keep my voice low, “I’ll sleep if you agree not to sleep on the floor and you sleep in the bed too. It doesn’t have to be a wholething.”
He frowns at me, looking strained. “Why do you insist ontorturing me?”
I tilt my head at him, “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize caring about your well-being is torture. Next time, I’ll be sure to encourage you to sleep outside on the balcony with no pillows and no blankets.”
Dallas looks suddenly like a moody teen as he reaches down and grabs our pillows from the floor. He tosses his over to the opposite side of the bed and places mine beside me. I take that as a win and lower myself, plopping my head against the pillow. I watch as he walks around the bed and slides in beside me. The bed is a king so there’s plenty of room between us. I reach for the lamp on the nightstand and turn it off, encasing the room in shadow.
None of us says a word and I try to fall asleep, but the events of today have my mind running rampant. It feels like off-key instruments are playing a really shitty tune in my head on a loop. I try to reposition myself a few times, but I never feel comfortable enough to actually fall asleep. Dallas is completely still wherever he is and I hear his soft breaths and wonder if he’s sleeping. I can’t see him in the dark of the room, so I whisper really quietly, “Dallas?”
A moment later he answers, “Yes?” His tone is impatient as if I’m annoying him.
I want to hear more of his voice. I need something from him to distract me from what happened today, from whatcouldhave happened if he wasn’t here with me. “Tell me something about you,” I demand. Part of this is coming from me needing a distraction, but the other part of me has been dying to know the man who knows so much about me yet shares so little.
He sighs, “What do you want to know?”
I grin as I realize he’s giving me what I want. “Do you have any siblings?”
“I have a younger brother,” he answers.
For some reason, I thought he was an only child. “What’s his name?”
“Travis.”
“How old is he?”
“Twenty-four.”
“Are you close?”
I can hear the smile in his voice, “You ask a lot of questions.”
I laugh softly, “I’m taking advantage of the opportunity to. You never tell me anything about yourself.”
He doesn’t argue because he knows it’s true. “Are you close with your parents?” I ask.
“My dad and I don’t really talk,” he explains and I frown. I’d give anything for another few minutes with my father and Dallas has a living, breathing father that he just doesn’t talk to. Does he even realize how lucky he is to still have his dad?
I ask, “What about your mom?”
It’s like a chill runs through the air because he goes utterly silent and darkness seems to swallow the room up in a way that the dark of the night can’t.
Just like that, I know the openness between us just now, his willingness to open up to me, is gone. I sigh as guilt threatens to eat me alive. I didn’t mean to push him too far, I just wanted to know more about him.
I accept that I won’t hear another word from his mouth tonight, but he stuns me completely when he asks, “What’s with the cowboy hats and the boots you wear?”
So he does want to talk to me, just not about that sensitive topic. I smile softly as I answer even though he can’t see me, “My dad’s dream was always to become a famous rockstar and to do it all in Texas. He wanted to move there and do all of that, but then he met my mom and then I came along, and the things he wanted for himself got put on the back burner.” A wave of sadness washes through me as I add the last part. “Then he diedand that dream died with him.”
“I’m sorry,” he says in a low voice. It’s unusual for Dallas to show emotion, but I can hear it in his voice. He truly is sorry for me.
