Dani laughed, sweet and girlish, and a spot in the center of his chest cracked open like an egg. What the fuck had she done to him?
“I didn’t meet my soulmate, Dylan. I just… have an early visitor.”
What did that mean? Fuck. Was she seeing some other guy on their day? “I can come later,” he said, refusing to think about how that would feel, to swoop in after someone else left her wanting. That was worse than being the opening act. It was a low point even for him, but he was panicking.
Dani groaned dramatically. “Ugh. Dylan. I got my period early, okay? You really don’t know how to take a hint.”
A hard laugh rushed out of him, pure relief bubbling out of the smile that split his face. He felt like he’d just missed getting hit by a bus. “Jeez, Dani. Why didn’t you just say that?”
But then a fresh wave of distaste appeared in his mouth. They were supposed to spend Friday night together and now he wasn’t going to get to see her.
“I’m going to be in the city anyway.” That was a lie, but he could reschedule some stuff in the morning. “I can still come by.”
“Dylan. Did you hear what I said?”
“Yeah.” He shoved a fist in his hair and tugged, thankful that this wasn’t a video call. “I just figured if you were going to stay in anyway… Were you?” His heart thumped against his rib cage. It felt like that time he went base jumping in Arizona when he was supposed to be at a sales conference, the way his hands shook unexpectedly when he’d clicked that harness in place. It was probably safe, but how could he really know?
“Yes, but I was planning on eating ice cream and watching Netflix in my sweatpants.”
He smiled at that mental picture. “What were you planning to wear on top?”
“Oh my God. The rattiest oversized t-shirt I can find.”
“I’ll bring you one. Look,” he said, “it’s a Friday night and it’s too late to fill the spot on my dance card, Dani-pie. I’m coming anyway and you’re going to entertain me with your shining personality. I’ll bring the ice cream.”
“Fine.”
“Fine.”
She paused. “Cookies and cream.”
“You got it, babe.”
“Don’t call me babe.”
He chuckled and the line went silent for a beat, her soft breathing the only sound between them.
When she spoke again, her voice went quiet. “I don’t know what you’re doing, Dylan. But I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She hung up and Dylan ran a hand over his face. He didn’t know what he was doing either, and yet, here he was doing it anyway.
There’s nothing like your uterus seizing up to kill any sexual tension between you and your Friend With Benefits. When Dylan arrived on Friday night, he might as well have been her elderly neighbor Mr. Cravits. She took one look at his mischief-eyes—the ones that usually tied her stomach in knots—and felt nothing but bloated and bitchy.
“That had better be cookies and cream,” she said, pointing to the paper bag he held in one hand. He had something that looked like a flat pillow tucked under his other arm.
“I told you, I got you. Wine and Doritos too. I brought you a whole buffet.” He nudged her out of the way and walked to her kitchen, setting the bag down. “And I brought you something else.” He put the pillow-looking thing down on the counter and took something out of the bag that was definitely not edible. Shaking it out, he held up his faux-vintage Rolling Stones t-shirt—the one with the mouth and the big tongue.
“That’s my favorite shirt of yours.”
“I know what you like.” He tossed it to her and she held it up.
“It’s not ratty, though. I said I was going to slob out on you.”
“Mmm. True.” He came around the island and kissed her on the head before unpacking the rest of his bag. “But, I also know how much you like the tongue and since I can’t give it to you tonight, this is the next best thing.”
“Oh my God. Do you just say whatever comes into your head?”
He shrugged and she couldn’t even roll her eyes at him. He was being cute. She’d allow him a few raunchy comments.
After he’d put the ice cream in the freezer and sorted the rest of the menagerie of snacks, he turned to her and put his hands on his hips. “Aren’t you going to put it on?”
She didn’t have a bra on under the t-shirt she was currently wearing but it felt a little silly to leave the room to change after his intimate all-too-true tongue comment. She turned away from him and lifted her shirt over her head. She could feel Dylan’s eyes on her naked back, hear him breathing, but he stayed put.
When she was done, she turned around and held her arms out, his shirt billowing around her like a sail. If the nausea and bloating didn’t kill any misguided hopes on his part, that was sure to do it.
Though, for some reason, he looked… smitten.
“What are we watching?” she asked, turning away from that soft smile.
“You’re the patient.”
“I have my period, Dylan. I’m not injured.”
“I guess you won’t need my magic heating pad then?”
He lifted the pillow thing up and she eyed it curiously. “What makes it magic?”
“I don’t know, but I wrenched my back pretty bad one summer on a bad wave. Bought this thing online. I was back on the board by the next weekend.”
Dani examined the heating pad, then unfolded it, popping it into the microwave according to the instructions. “That was kind of you to think of this.”
“Yeah, well. I’m not that bad once you get to know me.” He was smiling, playing it off, but his eyes were searching. He did that all the time now—looked at her like he was sending her some esoteric smoke signal he was praying she’d see.
She’d felt something in that inlet last weekend. He was different.
It had felt so different that she’d considered whether she should stop all of this. Dylan was supposed to be consequence-free. She wasn’t naive enough to think she couldn’t form some sort of attachment through this whole ordeal, so she’d picked the one guy who she was sure would never form one back. Someone who, if she even looked at him wrong, would stomp that budding spark of intrigue with a heavy foot. But now she got the impression he’d taken his boots off.
“Go pick out something to watch, Dani-pie,” he said when she’d been studying him for too long. “I’ll get you some ice cream.”