Page 43 of Take A Number
“No,” he exclaims, his eyes wide in shock. “You were in front of me so I couldn’t hear a thing. Norah, God, if you were that scared, you should have stopped.”
“I wanted to but that trainer guy freaked me out about using the front brake and flipping over the handlebars.”
Dean clenches his teeth and nods. “Yeah, that can be dangerous.”
“We’re taking the lift down,” I state, pointing at the area behind the brewery where riders can go up or down the mountain. “I’m going to have PTSD from all this!”
Dean begins to approach me like I’m a snake who might strike. “Let’s get you a drink and maybe an edible or something.”
“I don’t want drugs,” I groan and then fall into his arms as he wraps around me to rub my back soothingly. “I want a time machine so I can go back and stay in the kitchen with Barb at the mansion.” Dean’s chest begins shaking and I jerk up to look at him. “You better not be laughing.”
He purses his lips and shakes his head with a mock frown before lowering his lips to mine in a long, lingering kiss that relaxes me almost instantly. It’s surprising and nice, and I’m a little confused by it because we still haven’t talked about what we’re doing together exactly, but I go with it because it feels good. And because I need it after the journey I just had.
He pulls back and threads his fingers through mine in a waffle hold. “C’mon, sugar butt, let me buy you a drink. I’ll text the others and tell them to go back without us. We can take a cab home.”
It takes two beers out on the patio before I can finally enjoy the mountainous view and stop resenting it. I sigh heavily and move my gaze to Dean, who looks like he’s posing for some outdoor adventurist magazine. He’s as cool as a cucumber, sitting in an Adirondack chair, wearing his white athletic tee and Ray-Bans, drinking a beer, and running a hand through his dark hair like he doesn’t have a care in the world. My eyes lower to his tight black bicycle shorts. Normally, guys in shorts like that are not something that draws my attention…but Dean’s thighs are ridiculously muscular. And the bulge he’s rocking beneath that stretchy fabric,the bulge that I saw in the flesh last night,is doing really embarrassing things to my body now that I’m no longer screaming in terror.
I self-consciously finger-comb my hair because I probably look like I’m coming down from a manic episode. Which isn’t far from the truth. I take another drink and smile sheepishly at him. “My throat has finally stopped hurting from all the screaming.”
Dean grimaces. “I really am sorry. I have a competitive streak and completely missed the fact that you were freaking out.”
“It’s fine.” I wave him off. “I was trying to play it cool.”
Dean pulls off his sunglasses and gazes at me with those caramel brown eyes that I can finally appreciate again, now that rage has cleared from my vision. “Why were you trying to play it cool?”
I pause for a second, chewing my lip before deciding to hit him with the thoughts that have been racing through my mind all day. “I wasn’t sure what last night meant exactly.”
“What do you want it to mean?” he asks, staring at me with a grave look that makes me squirm in my seat.
I shift my gaze and look out at the mountains again. “I don’t know…I was waiting for you to say something. You’ve been acting all touchy-feely with me all day but I didn’t know if that was an act for your friends or because of what we did last night.”
I turn back to see Dean watching me, concern marring his features. “Do you regret last night?” he asks seriously.
“No,” I reply quickly, my eyes wide. “I mean, I was tipsy but I knew what I was doing.” I pause, wiping the condensation on my beer glass with my fingers before nervously adding, “And I thought it was kind of fun.”
Dean’s shoulders seem to relax as he takes in my reply. “I’m really glad to hear that. I’ve been stressed out all day at the idea that I might have taken advantage of you.”
“Taken advantage of me?” I shake my head and huff out a self-deprecating laugh. “It was my idea. I practically threw myself at you.”
“I know, but still. I have a hard rule about fooling around with someone when they’ve been drinking. What we did last night was not expected and not something I’d normally say yes to. So, I’m not proud.”
I recoil at that last remark, and horrifyingly my eyes start to sting as his words evoke a shameful response deep inside of me. He’s not proud? Was what we did really that embarrassing for him? God, and I just confessed how much I enjoyed it.Holy shit, this is humiliating.
Dean notices my mood change and his jaw drops in horror. “I didn’t mean it like that, Norah. I just meant…fuck.”
I stand from my seat, desperate to get away from his watchful eyes when suddenly, his warm hand snakes around my elbow and he pulls me back to him, yanking me onto his lap. He cups my cheek and pushes stray hairs out of my face as I attempt to plaster on a cool expression.
“I didn’t mean that the way it came out.”
“It’s fine,” I reply stiffly, my posture ramrod straight in his arms as I look away and take in a cleansing breath.
“It’s not fine.” He turns my face back to him, rubbing his thumb along my cheekbone that has a hot tear streak running down. He struggles with what to say next before finally offering, “That comment goes back to my parents. It has nothing to do with you and what we did. What we did was hot. And I’m glad we did it, but only because you are too. No regrets, right?”
He stares into my eyes with worry, like he’s still not convinced what we did was wrong. But it’s not what we did that he’s worried about. It’s how I feel about it now, in the light of day that has him so freaked out.
“I already said I don’t regret it, Dean,” I reply, relaxing into his lap and touching the frown line between his eyebrows. “What’s your deal? Why are you so worried? What does this have to do with your parents?”
Dean grimaces like he doesn’t want to talk about this but then sighs when I continue watching him expectantly. He releases my cheek and sits back and takes a long sip of his beer before he finally cracks. “They used to get drunk and fight all the time in front of me. I was just a kid but I can vividly remember them coming home late and screaming horrible things at each other, about each other. They even said horrible things about me.”
