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CHAPTER THIRTEEN

TAMERON

“You’re being a dick.”

I looked up from the book I’d been reading on my Kindle, curled up on the couch, and found Nash pinning me down with a hard stare. “What?”

“You’re being a dick.”

I had heard him right. “What did I do now?”

“Dayton said he hasn’t heard from you in two days.”

I made a face. “Christ on a bike, he’s bitching to you about that?”

Nash gave me a slap to the back of my head. He barely touched me, probably out of consideration for my hearing aids, but I still felt like he’d full-on smacked me. “Dayton doesn’t bitch, which, by the way, is a derogatory and sexist term you should stop using. It implies it’s something women do.”

I considered that. Hmm, he might have a point, actually. Not something I’d ever thought about, but now that I had, it kinda rang true. “Okay.”

“Okay, what?”

“I agree it’s not a good term to use. I still maintain that Dayton shouldn’t have come to you.”

“He didn’t, dipshit. I had to practically drag it out of him since he was moping about something, and he finally told me he thought he’d done something wrong since you’d gone incommunicado on his ass. A rather spectacular ass, I might add, as we both know. So what gives?”

Nash sat on the coffee table, close enough so I’d have no issues hearing him…or reading his lips where needed. There went that excuse. “I’ve been…thinking.”

“Something you do way too much of.”

“I needed some time to figure things out.”

When I didn’t say anything else, Nash made an impatient gesture. “About what? Don’t make me force you to tell me because we both know I will if I have to.”

Oh yes, he would. Nash wouldn’t hesitate to use any and all methods at his disposal. Bribery, blackmail, beating your ass—he didn’t care as long as he got what he wanted. I’d seen alligators with a less tenacious bite.

“What did Dayton tell you?” I finally asked.

“Nothing, other than that he thought he might’ve done something wrong. No details. He refused to tell me more, stating it wasn’t his story to share.”

Fuck, that was considerate of him. Like, really nice.

And once again, I was the asshole. With a deep sigh, I resigned myself to the inevitable.

“We kissed. Dayton and I, I mean.” Nash gave me an eye roll that said, “Who else, dickhead?” Fair point again.

“And we did…some more. Hand jobs,” I added quickly when Nash’s eyes narrowed.

“We exchanged hand jobs. It was…good. Really good.”

“And then you ghosted him?”

“I didn’t ghost him. Did he say I ghosted him? Because I didn’t. I texted him back when he sent me pics of Knives. That’s not ghosting.”

Nash buried his head in his hands for a moment, letting out a loud groan. Looking up again, he said, “I can’t tell if you’re really this obtuse or if you’re fucking with me.”

I frowned. What the fuck did that mean? “Obtuse?”

“Dim-witted. Slow. Oblivious.” Nash apparently saw something on my face because he sighed again. “Christ Almighty, you’re serious. Okay, let me back up. Do you agree there’s a difference in how you communicated with him before you guys hooked up and after?”

Hooked up? Exchanging hand jobs was considered a hookup?

Hmm, come to think of it, it was. With women, it most often involved sex.

Penetrative sex—though that was about the least sexy term ever.

Sure, oral could be involved, but nine out of ten times, it was a quick fuck.

That was a little more complicated with two guys, so yeah, hand jobs made sense.

Or blowjobs. Fuck, how would it feel to have Dayton blow me?

Or to have his cock in my mouth? My cock jumped to half-mast at the thought.

Nash cleared his throat. Shit, right, he’d asked me a question. My cheeks heated as I realized the truth. Of course there was a difference. “I pulled away,” I said softly. “I answered his texts, but nothing more.”

Nash nodded. “You made Dayton think he did something wrong, and he’s hurting over it.”

I swallowed. “I didn’t mean to. I just…I needed time to figure out my own shit.”

“Okay, fair, but you could’ve told him that. Instead, you left him to come to his own conclusions, and guess what? They’re not positive. He thinks he fucked up.”

I hadn’t thought of it that way. “I didn’t mean to give that impression.”

Nash’s expression softened. “I know you didn’t, but you get into your head so much sometimes that you forget others are involved too. People who want to know what’s going on, who want to help you. All you need to do is ask.”

I hung my head, feeling very small. “I suck at asking for help.”

“You do, and I’m not sure why. Do you see it as a sign of weakness? Of failing?”

My shoulders hunched even lower. “I hate being dependent on someone else. I want to do it myself.”

Nash waited long enough to reply that I raised my head again and met his eyes, endlessly kind now.

“Stubborn. That’s what you are. Goddamn stubborn.

But I get it. I’m not much better myself, so it would be hypocritical of me to get on your case about it.

But please, Tameron, try to remember that you have people around you who want to help you…

and Dayton is one of them. For reasons I can’t quite fathom, he has a soft spot for you, so don’t shut him out.

My guess is he’ll understand far more than you give him credit for, given a chance. ”

I slowly nodded. “I’ll try.”

With a last firm shoulder squeeze, Nash left me to my own devices again. Reading was out of the question now, of course. Not when I knew I’d inadvertently hurt Dayton. Again. I grabbed my phone and fired off a quick text.

Can we talk?

Uh-oh

No, not like that. I want to apologize.

For what?

For being a dick

I thought we had settled that?

For being a dick again

…

I shut you out

You did.

It wasn’t your fault.

Okay.

I mean it. This was all me. I needed some time.

…

Which I should’ve told you. I know.

I was worried.

About me?

Yes. And that I’d done something wrong.

Fuck. Nash had been right. Dayton had been blaming himself.

That had never even occurred to me before Nash pointed it out.

Dayton was… Jesus, the man was a firefighter, a battalion chief, and one of the most competent, confident men I’d ever met.

How on earth could I have known he’d get all upset about me not communicating?

It was humbling, but it also filled me with an unexpected warmth. It meant he really did care for me.

Can I explain in person?

I’d love that. When?

Tonight? After dinner?

Sure. Text me when you’re on your way, okay?

Will do. Thanks.

Thanks for what? For allowing you to spend time with me? My ego isn’t quite that oversized, you know.

Not what I meant, but whatever.

I was restless the rest of the day until I could finally leave. When I got to Dayton’s, he opened the front door before I could ring the bell.

“Hi.” I shoved my hands into my pockets.

“Hi.”

Wow, weren’t we two stellar conversationalists?

Dax was in the living room, apparently on a video call with someone, signing at breakneck speed. I waved at him and he briefly interrupted his conversation to greet me back. ‘When are you coming to the shop?’

‘Soon. Promise.’

‘Okay.’

I waved again, then followed Dayton to his room.

“He’s serious, you know,” Dayton said, and it took me a second to realize he was talking about Dax.

“His invitation?” When Dayton nodded, I said, “I will take him up on it. Just haven’t found the right time yet. I still get tired easily.”

Dayton nodded once, then gestured to his bed. ‘Sit?’

I hesitated, then sat. Dayton settled beside me, far enough away that we weren’t touching. That was good. I needed to focus.

“I’m sorry,” I said.

“You already said that.”

I let out a sigh. “I know. But I’m sorry for pulling back from you emotionally. I needed some time to figure things out, but I should’ve told you that. I didn’t mean to make you think you’d done something wrong.”

Dayton’s face softened. “I know you didn’t.” He hesitated, then asked, “I take it Nash talked to you?”

“Yeah. Though talking is a bit of an understatement. It was more…berating.”

Guilt filled Dayton’s expression. He hadn’t been kidding when he’d told me his face was an open book. “That was never my intention. I hope you know that. I didn’t tell him to talk to you.”

I snorted. “Tell him? No one can tell Nash what to do. For a career soldier, he’s damn stubborn in following orders…though much better in handing them out.” I smiled as memories rushed me. “And we’re all eager to obey. He has a way of making you want to follow him, you know?”

“He inspires trust,” Dayton said, and I nodded because he’d described it perfectly.

“So no, he talked to me because he hated seeing you hurt.” I shifted. “Which, you know, is fair enough.”

Dayton’s smile was gentle. “He’s a good friend.”

Ouch. “Unlike me.”

“You’ll learn.”

I wasn’t sure if that was a compliment or not, but I’d take it because he wasn’t wrong. “I’m not good at opening up and I suck at asking for help, as Nash pointed out to me this morning as well. But I’ll try to do better.”

Dayton studied me for a few beats. “I was scared you’d changed your mind.”

“About what?”

“About…us.”

Us. I liked that term. It implied we were something more than friends. That we were… I couldn’t quite finish that thought. “I didn’t. Trust me, I’m still bi. I don’t know what I’m doing, but I do know I want to explore with you.”

Dayton’s eyes softened. “I want that too.”

“So what happens now?”

Dayton smiled. “We take it slow. We figure things out together. And we communicate. No more shutting each other out, okay?”

I nodded. “Okay.”

“So, are we good?”

“We’re good.”

The relief that washed over Dayton’s face was palpable. “I’m glad you came over. I missed you.”

My cheeks heated. “I missed you too.”