“I don’t want you to go.”
The quickness of her answer settled it.
“All right, then. Let’s get rid of the no cuddling rule too. Just for tonight.”
She groaned a half-hearted protest as he wrapped his arm around her belly and tugged her back to his chest.
“Just for tonight,” she breathed, a soft sigh escaping when he rested his chin on her head. “And then we go back to normal.”
Eighteen
“You, Dani-pie, are missing out.” Dylan took a bite of the ginormous sub he’d ordered, moaning dramatically as he chewed.
She scrunched her nose. “How can you eat all that salty meat?”
“Capicola, salami, prosciutto. This isn’t just meat, it’s the food of the gods.”
She spread extra tzatziki sauce on her chicken gyro and pushed some lettuce back in that had fallen out onto the foil wrapper. “It’s going to give you a stomachache.”
It had been three weeks and two more of Dani’s soulmate dates since the Jansen party, and sharing a meal on Friday nights had become part of their routine. Incredible sex on some surface in her condo, then a new takeout choice and a bad movie. They both had to eat, and eating across from Dani in a pair of tiny cotton shorts and a tank top with no bra was quickly becoming his favorite way to dine.
Tonight, her hair was up in a tight little knot on the very top of her head, and her cheeks still glowed from exertion. It was adorable and hot as hell.
He took a pepperoncini from his sandwich and dropped it on the makeshift plate on her lap. She popped it into her mouth.
“So your family is Italian?” she asked after washing the pepper down with her wine.
“Yup. My mother’s parents still spoke it when they were alive. We kept a lot of the tradition.” He pulled off a piece of bread. “And by tradition, I mean carbs and cheese at every meal.”
“If you tell me you can speak Italian, so much of your dating success will make sense.”
Dylan laughed, then clutched his bare chest in fake offense. “You mean it’s not my charming personality that makes all the women swoon?”
“Your personality is acceptable at best. It’s that face that makes them swoon.”
A grin pushed at his cheeks. Obviously Dani was attracted to him—she’d just spent an hour proving that—but that was the first time she’d admitted it out loud.
He took a slow sip of his beer, letting the compliment linger. “Well, I don’t know any Italian,” he finally said. “But you’re making me realize a huge missed opportunity. All I picked up was a love for cured meats and some traditional cooking.”
“My parents weren’t much for tradition,” she said, sighing. “Now, Cat’s family? Going there was like going back in time. They had a ceremony for everything. Prayers before dinner. Some new saint celebrated every month.”
“You spent a lot of time there, huh?”
“My mom and step-dad were always off doing their own thing. They didn’t exactly relish the parenting gig. I saw my dad on weekends, but he was always pretty busy with work.” She swallowed a gulp of wine and shook her head. “Not that they were neglectful. I had a perfectly sufficient childhood, but it was always clear their relationships came first. They always said they wanted me to be free. Which I realize now, just meant out of their hair.”
“Huh.”
“Luckily, Cat’s house had so many people in and out of it, between her hundred or so cousins and her sisters’ friends, they didn’t mind one more. It was loud and chaotic, where my house was empty, like a museum.”
He shifted his stool so their knees touched and nudged her with his foot. “You liked the attention?”
“Sure. I mean, I guess I felt a little left out at home. Carlos always had time for everyone. It was nice to be noticed, looked after. And of course, there was also the food.” She stretched her legs out in front of her and pushed her flat stomach outward. “So. Much. Food.”
He groaned. “I know that look. My mom was the same, always feeding everyone. Still is.”
“Did you have siblings to share all of that food with?” She scrunched her nose. “It feels weird that I don’t know that.”
“I have a sister,” he said. “Older.”
“What’s her name?” She asked it around a bite of chicken, juice wetting her lips, and he had to think for a beat.
“Katie. Her name’s Katie.”
“Are you close?”
He nearly laughed. They were three years apart, and because of when their birthdays fell, they’d never even gone to the same school, but you don’t grow up like they did and not develop the bond of shared misery. That wasn’t exactly light dinner conversation, though. “I don’t see her that often,” he said. “She’s married, lives two hours away. But we text a lot.”
“And your dad?”
“Non-factor.”
Her forehead wrinkled. “What does that mean?”
“It means he left when I was thirteen, and he was never around before then anyway.”
“Oh.”
The easy smile Dani had been wearing thinned and her eyes softened. That was the danger of sharing your dirty laundry with women. All of a sudden, they’d get that doe-eyed poor baby look, like they were just dying to settle on the couch with a blanket and some popcorn while you spilled all of your childhood trauma. Dying to fix you. Girls used to do that shit to Josh all the time. The minute the subject of Josh’s parents came up, it was like all the women in the room heard a dog whistle. Now Dylan had gone and brought it on himself.
His neck went hot at Dani’s attention, still focused on him even though he’d stopped speaking, and something familiar kicked at him. “It’s not an Afterschool Special, Dani. You don’t need to feel bad.”
“I don’t feel bad,” she said. “I just didn’t know that.”
“Anyway.” He tipped his glass toward her. “You’re definitely an only child.”
She cocked her head adorably. “Is that so?”
“Oh yeah. You have that ‘I never had to share’ eye bat down pat.”
Dani rolled her eyes, but it was all flirt. “Whatever. So it was just you and your mom and sister? That must have been interesting. Why aren’t you more sensitive growing up in a house full of girls?”
An image of his father, callus and unattached, flashed in his mind. Bad genes, he thought. “I guess they couldn’t corrupt me.”