Page 21 of The Burdens We Share
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” I retort, taking a sip of my water.
She laughs, “No, you were just nice to me. I didn’t know you had that in you. I feel like I’m in the Twilight Zone right now.”
“Forgive me for trying to lighten your mood,” I say sarcastically, a stony expression on my face.
She teases, “Aw, don’t do that now, Dallas. You’re always so serious. It’s good to know you have a personality in there somewhere.”
I give her a hard look, “You know nothing about me.”
She rolls her eyes, “So then tell me something.”
“No.”
She groans, “Come on. I just told you all my family business. It’s your turn.” I want to correct her in my head and say,not all your family businessbecause there’s more that I know that she didn’t share. Especially the parts about her father.
I deny her, “No.”
She puffs out her lip and frowns at me, “Why are you so boring?”
“If wanting to keep things about my life private is boring, then I apologize for being boring.”
She gazes at me a moment longer before she tears her eyes off of me and leans back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest. I glance down at her bowl, “You really should eat more of that. You hardly ate anything today.”
“I’m fine,” she says dismissively and looks away from me.
She doesn’t say another word, nor does she eat anything else. I pay the bill and usher us both out of the restaurant, away from the paps, and into my car. When I pull away from the curb I turn to find her with her head pressed against the window and her body curled into itself. She looks so fragile, like she could break at any moment.
I want her to speak to me the way she did in the restaurant. Before I ruined it with my dismissal and refusal to open up to her about myself. I don’t talk about myself or my family with anyone. The only person who knows my business is my brother, Travis, and Harvey. I’m sure Brody knows a thing or two about me from either Harvey or me on the phone with Harvey, but she hasn’t shared any of my business with her friends.
When we pull into Ivory’s driveway, I shut off the car and make a move to get out. I notice her door doesn’t open and she makes no move to exit. She’s very still and I lean forward to get a better look at her face only to find that she’s sound asleep. Her breaths are steady and I don’t want to wake her. After theemotional stress she endured today, she deserves some sleep.
I quietly get out of my car and close my door behind myself before I walk to the passenger side and open her door. I lean forward and unbuckle her and as I do so, I get a whiff of her perfume. She smells heavenly and I wonder what the scent is. It’s floral in a way, but there’s also a trace of musk. It’s captivating, just like she is.
I carefully and very gently reach one arm behind her back to support her shoulders and the other under her knees. I lift her off the seat easily and settle her into my arms. I notice immediately how perfectly her body molds against mine. She fits in my arms like she was made to be there. Her head rolls against my chest and I pause to make sure I didn’t wake her. I can feel her small breaths on my neck and I continue moving with her in my arms as I close the car door quietly with my hip so as not to wake her before I walk up the gray stone walkway that leads to her front door. I use the hand under her knees to carefully set her down, still supporting her weight while I dig inside my pocket for my phone.
I use it to unlock her door and open it before I put my phone away and pick her up once more. I carry her through the entryway and all the way up the stairs and to her bedroom. I know part of her may panic tomorrow when she wakes up in her room, her anxiety from the break-in is still severe. I’ll wake up early enough to ensure I’m close by when she wakes. I’ll be there just in case she has a panic attack of some kind.
I gently lay her down on her bed and sweep those fiery pink strands away, like clearing the storm off her face. I pull a blanket over her and take a step away. I know I should go back to the guest room I’m residing in and that I should leave her be, but I can’t help this burning desire I have to take in her perfect face, her peace. She looks so peaceful in sleep, yet also so exhausted like she’s fighting battles even in her dreams.
This stalker of hers is the cause and I want nothing more than to catch him and make him regret ever laying eyes on her, but part of me also wants him out there on the prowl so I can stick around her for longer. Like I said, I never claimed to be a good man.
Chapter 9
Ivory
Since finding the notein my trailer with that fucking stupid rose three days ago, I’ve been mostly laying low. I haven’t had to go back to set just yet because they started filming some scenes about Brody’s life before the band first, which I was glad for because it gave me more time to study and memorize my lines. I haven’t stressed over the fact that I have a packet to memorize because I was there for these events when they actually happened. Nobody knows them better than me.
Dallas and I haven’t spoken much. We just exchange greetings when we’re in the same room of my house, but other than that we haven’t really been in each other’s way or spoken. I’ve just spent my time following the workout routine that Nara made for me, and I’ve been eating more, though the meals are bland if you can even call them meals. It’s mostly just salads and some fruit.
In all honesty, I’m fucking starving. I wish I could house a whole pizza, but every time I think of anything but fruits and veggies, I remind myself that I need to look more like Cami. And I’ll admit, my stomach is starting to look a little flatter.
I hop off the treadmill in my home gym, sweating profusely in my white workout shorts and tank top. I wipe the sweat off my face with a fluffy towel and head upstairs to the kitchen. According to Nara’s nutrition plan, I need to have a light meal after I exercise so that I don’t feel weak. When I enter the kitchen, I find Dallas seated at the white marble counter on a barstool, his eyes locked on his computer screen as he continuesto comb through security footage from the set. He looks up at me and I watch as his eyes roam over every square inch of me. I suddenly feel self-conscious.
I’m a nasty, sweaty mess. My cheeks turn pink with embarrassment and he meets my eyes, “How long were you in the gym?”
I walk over to the refrigerator and open the door. I grab a green juice and some mixed berries and answer, “I think two hours, maybe a little more.”
I place my meal on the counter and he looks at it with disapproval before he glances back up at me. “You should be eating protein after you workout.”
