I kicked at the dirt because I wasn’t being the most reasonable, and I knew it. “That’s not my point.”
“Oh?” His hard stare made me shift my weight from foot to foot.
“I’m trying to say that you might be the right Dom for me, but you don’t want to see it.” Talking about Joe’s issues was so much easier than addressing mine. My tone was sharper than it needed to be, and I wasn’t surprised when Joe took another step back.
“If I was the right guy for you, then you would’ve told me if you were upset about something.”
I made a frustrated noise. “If you want to be the right guy, why does it feel like you’re always lurking near the door, ready to shove me in the direction of what you think I need and want?”
“I don’t know.” Joe scrubbed at his short hair. “I don’t like fighting.”
“Me either.” And I also really didn’t like doing it here, happy people all around us, the colorful sights and tasty smells a reminder of all the fun we were not having. I wasn’t sure how we’d gotten so far off-track. Fuck Rick. Fuck my own doubts and whatever was going on in Joe’s head too. “I think we both need time to think.”
“Okay,” Joe agreed when what I really wanted was for him to protest.
I wanted him to fight for us. He was so worried he wasn’t right for me that he was missing all the ways in which we were perfect together. And now I was the one walking away.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Joe
Well. That didn’t go like I’d planned.
I wasn’t entirely sure when my night had gone so spectacularly off the rails. But it had, and now I was wandering around the music festival aimlessly because I didn’t want to go home and be confronted with yet more evidence of failed plans.
The music swelled and faded, and I couldn’t have told anyone what the song or genre was because my brain was too muddled with thoughts of Levi. People sang and danced and ate in happy little clumps all around the park. Every couple I saw, whether they were eighteen or eighty, made me think of him.
He’d walked away, and I’d let him go, and now I missed him with a ferocity that scared me. The intensity of how much I needed him back was a big part of why I didn’t reach for my phone. If it hurt this much now, how much more would a future, inevitable loss devastate me? My head continued to churn as the festival wound down for the night.
“Joe!” My name carried across the crowd of tired picnickers and young families carting coolers and sleeping toddlers, heading to their cars.
Even before I turned, I knew it was my dad calling, and I steeled myself as I walked over to join him, stiffening my slumped shoulders and forcing a neutral expression, so that I didn’t reveal how disappointed I was that it was him and not Levi looking for me.
“Hey.”
“What are you doing still here? Alone?” Dad shifted a box to his side, and I took it from him. At least I could make things easier for someone.
“I don’t know,” I admitted. God’s own truth right there.
“Ah.” Dad made a thoughtful noise as I slowed my pace to match his lumbering gait. “You…uh…fight?”
I groaned because of course he’d guessed right. “I’d rather not talk about it.”
“Okay.” One thing I loved about him was that he never pressed me. Mom was the one who could get me to confess all my deep thoughts, but Dad was more the type to walk quietly beside me, giving me space to be miserable. But when we were almost to his truck, he stopped and turned toward me. “I was going to call you tomorrow. And this is…awkward timing. But…I need advice.”
“Advice?” My stomach twisted. I wasn’t fit to give anyone guidance.
“Yeah. I…uh…think I have a date.”
I opened my mouth, sharp response ready to fly. But then I remembered how happy Levi had been all summer for my dad, how he’d cheered him on over coming out of his shell of grief, and how Levi would hug me and tell me it was okay to feel things.
I shut my mouth and took a breath through my nose.
“That so? You accidentally asked?” I didn’t quite manage lightness or teasing, but I didn’t sound cranky at least.
“There’s that French place off the Jefferson Highway—”
“The one without prices on the menu?” I blinked because that was so not my steak-and-potatoes dad’s kind of restaurant.
“Yes. I heard that they do this special French apple thing there, and you know how Inez loves sweet things.” It was dark, but even under the dim parking lot lighting, his cheeks were red.
I had to laugh. “So you asked her to dessert at the fanciest place in town?”
“Well, I couldn’t tell her about it and then suggest she go alone.” He shrugged, all bluster and no bite, and still blushing.
“Of course not.” I managed a soothing tone even though part of me wanted to laugh some more. And another part wanted to cry. This was real, and Levi had warned me it was happening, and it still hurt more than I’d thought it would. “So…it’s a date?”
“Is that okay?” His tone was about as tentative as I’d ever heard it.
I took another breath, and it was almost like I could feel Levi there beside me, warm hand on my back, telling me everything would work out.
“Yeah. Yeah, it is. Go you, putting yourself out there like that.” My voice was thick, and I had to swallow hard.
“Wasn’t that much of a risk.” Dad made a dismissive gesture, humble as ever. “We’ve been dancing around each other all summer. I was pretty sure she’d be a yes.”
“She’s a smart lady. Knows a catch when she sees one.” Moving the box to my other arm, I clapped him on the shoulder.
“Thanks.” He nodded before he looked away at all the cars departing the parking area. “That…means a lot.”
“So, you need advice?” I prompted before things got heavier and more emotional than either of us could handle.
“Yeah.” He smiled, and I wished again that Levi was there because he would have found his sheepish expression adorable. “You’ve been on a date way more recently than me.”
“Have I?” I blinked. I’d never even been to the fancy French place myself, and casual dates had been few and far between the last couple of years.
Dad made a scoffing noise. “You don’t have to keep up the ‘just friends’ pretense. I know I’ve made cracks about Levi’s age, but he’s good for you. I’m happy for you both.”
“We’re not dating,” I said absently, brain still churning.
I’d cooked for Levi fairly often. We’d ordered a lot of takeout. We’d spent time in my hot tub and plenty of hours in my bed. We’d made plans for volunteering together. But dating? Had we done that? Should we be doing that?
“That is, we’ve never actually gone out on a date.”
Now it was Dad’s turn to blink. “You should fix that.”
“Yeah. Maybe.” My voice sounded distant.
Did I want to date Levi? Was I already dating him and simply didn’t know it? We’d been hooking up for weeks now, and I’d never once taken the guy out for dinner or a movie or any other “date” that didn’t involve power tools or hot sex.