Page 37 of Falling Into Forever
“Anything else?” he whispers. There’s tension in his voice as he stares at the phone.
“No. Sell it,” Kate demands, and he turns to me with an apologetic shrug. “I have to go. Remember, sex sells. So sell the shit out of this tonight.” She hangs up, but Dante continues to hold the phone out in his palm while he watches me.
“How are your acting skills?” Even wearing a wary lopsided grin, he still looks like a rockstar who graces the bedroom walls of teenage girls everywhere.
“About as good as your writing skills,” I mumble. “Probably. Maybe worse. Probably worse.”
He bumps my shoulder with his. “Then maybe we need to make this real.”
Sparks shoot down my spine. “What?”
“Before I got you to fall in love with me, we were the best of friends. Let’s start there. Think of it as me trying to woo my way back into friendship like old times.” He stands, then turns to face me. “Saylor Greer, let today be the first day of me winning back your trust. But…” He seems unsure for the first time since he walked back into my life, and stares at me with an unreadable expression. “Are you and Grady a—thing?”
I almost choke on the name. “Grady? Grady Reid?”
A low rumble erupts from somewhere within him as I stare at him in utter disbelief.
“May I remind you that you’re the one who came crashing back into my life with your string of women plastered all over the tabloids?”Zip. Zip. Zip.I drag my pendant across the chain like an angry bee.
It’s harder to calm myself with him so close. It’s why I use my bookstore to hide. It’s my sanctuary where I can fall apart, be pissed off, and eventually calm myself down. It’s safe, and Dante Thompson is more dangerous than a nuclear explosion.
“None of that was real, Saylor. It’s all about appearances and nothing more. But if you are in a relationship, it kind of fucks up our plans here, don’t you think?” The grit in his tone is new. I’ve never heard him sound like this before. Did he show up here assuming I’d always waited for him—that I’d been alone all this time?
He’d be right, but what hurts more is knowing that he didn’t wait for me, even if he did exactly what I told him I wanted. I take it back—I am a hypocrite.
Your book told him you waited for him.The voices in my head need their mouths duct-taped shut.
Pain sears my eyes, and they grow hot with the moisture I’m no longer accustomed to, so once again, I grab ahold of anger, regardless of how irrational it is. “It’s only now occurring to you that I might be with someone? That someone could love me? That they would stay?”
Low blow.
“Jesus, Saylor. No. That’s not what I’m saying.”
I can’t listen to him anymore. Everything hurts. After years and years of protecting myself, my insides shake in fear. Fear that feelings I’ve attempted to bury aren’t as deep or as broken as I need them to be.
“Go to hell, Dante. Go straight to hell.”
CHAPTER10
DANTE
“Ihate to admit it, but it worked,” I say when Saylor finally lifts her head from her laptop with glassy eyes.
“What?” she asks while blinking and glancing around the room like she expected to be alone.
How did I ever forget all her quirks? Every one brings forth a new memory that makes me desperate to learn more.
It’s almost midnight, and she hasn’t moved from the table since six hours ago, when she’d tucked her feet underneath her and started working, so I joined her. I should have been focusing on my work, but I spent most of the time watching her.
She’s freaking distracting in the best, most painful of ways, but it gave me time to take in her home. It’s not messy, per se, but there are piles of clutter in places that make me smile. What shocks me is there are no photos of anyone anywhere. Saylor used to carry a Polaroid camera with her everywhere, so why is her home lacking the love she used to showcase so proudly?
I take in the mismatched pillows and throw blankets from the sofa that were tossed haphazardly after making my bed last night, and I bite the inside of my cheek to hold in a chuckle. We couldn’t be more opposite. At my house, every available surface is covered with pictures of those I love, and there’s not a pillow out of place, but it’s never felt like a home, either.
Saylor feels like home.
Her relationship with Grady set her off tonight. More accurately, my interest in it set her off, but I saw the heartache play out in her eyes. Then she was too pissed at me to go to the brewery, so I attempted to make dinner. It was edible, but only barely.
Why didn’t I fight for her—for us—back when it would have made a difference? Saylor leans forward in her chair, curled in on herself, swinging her necklace around her neck in a daze, and her lips turn down in sadness. Everything about the position screams broken.
