Page 58 of How Dare You
“That doesn’t surprise me at all.” I draw my knees up and lean against the cushions. “Tell me about them.”
He laughs, bursting with pride as he describes his family, pulling up photos on his phone of each of his siblings and their kids. “My two older sisters were attached at the hip, and they used to dress me up and boss me around whenever my brother wasn’t there to harass. That’s Casey.” He points to a brunette woman with three children piled around her on a sofa. “The oldest. Smart as a whip, and she always talked the rest of us kids into acting out her schemes. “Lori’s the one next to me here.” He shows a picture from a wedding, and I almost miss the tall, smiley woman he’s referencing at the sight of him in a suit. “We’re closest in age. She has a soft heart, but Casey never let anyone take advantage of it. They always had my back too. Now, they’re both moms, and they’re badasses at it just like our mom is.” He pulls up a picture with at least twenty people in it, all wearing matching Christmas pajamas and zooms in on a shorter gray-haired woman in the center. “She’s tiny and mighty, a fierce protector of anyone she loves, which is just about everyone.”
I have the thought that I’d like to meet them, but I keep it to myself, instead encouraging him to share more. He tells me stories from his childhood, places they’d sneak into, times they got caught, times they didn’t, about the way his siblings helped him hide it from his parents the first time he got drunk, but he had to wash their cars all summer. It all slots into place, framing the understanding I have of Rhett. It makes sense that he comes from a boisterous and loving family.
He’s scrolling through his phone, showing me pictures of his family from special events and holidays when a picture of him with his arm around a woman who I now know isn’t either of his sisters pops up. He’s quick to scroll away, but I still ask who she is even though I’m pretty sure I already know the answer.
“That’s Crystal, my ex,” he answers, setting his phone down on the daybed.
Immediately, I’m irrationally jealous. I should drop it, but morbid curiosity wins out. “You don’t talk about her much.”
“Not much to say anymore.” He shrugs, the picture of nonchalance. “But I’m an open book if you have questions.”
If I have questions. All I have are questions. Can I see that photo again? She didn’t look much like me. Is she actually your type? Did you love her? Do you still love her? Why did you want to marry her? Do you want her back? I roll each question over, landing on one that’s less likely to hurt my feelings. “How long were you together?”
“About two years,” he answers, offering no other details.
“When did you break up?”
“Just before Christmas.”
That wasn’t very long ago. “That was right before you moved out here, wasn’t it?”
He shifts his weight, turning his body so he’s facing me more directly. “Yeah, the breakup is a big part of how I ended up here actually.”
“Why did you break up with her?” I ask.
He makes a sound between a laugh and scoff. “She broke up with me.” My shock must show on my face because he runs a knuckle underneath my jaw, saying, “I appreciate how unbelievable you seem to find that information.”
“Well, it’s ridiculous. You’re so—” I take a breath. “What reason could she possibly—” I let my words trail off when I realize how close I am to admitting my feelings for him.
Rhett’s lips pull tight before he lets out a sigh, seeming reluctant to give me an answer. “After I quit my job, she said it wasn’t realistic to expect her to be with someone like me, who gives up on his responsibilities.”
“Oh, fuck,” my words come out on a whisper. Didn’t I say almost exactly that to him two nights ago? Fuck. I told him he was irresponsible and too scared to take risks. Rhett watches me with an unreadable look on his face. It’s unlike me to be at a loss for words, but where do I even start? I’ve only said harsh things to try to keep distance between us—to protect myself. But I selfishly didn’t consider the cost to him.
Rhett surprises me, drawing one of my hands into his and rubbing soothing circles in my palm. He’s comforting me?
“Rhett, I owe you an apology. Really, I owe you many apologies. I should have said something this morning or even last night.”
He continues his tender movement with my hand but doesn’t try to contradict me.
“I said some truly awful things to you the other night.” It’s a weak start. “Not just that night. From the beginning. You haven’t deserved that from me, and I am sorry. I know those things have already been said, and I cannot take them back.” Heat rises to my cheeks, and guilt tightens my stomach. “You’ve been wonderful to me and you don’t deserve my cruelty.” I consider trying to explain why I said those things, why I’ve pushed him away, but he doesn’t need my excuses. That’s not the point. “I won’t—” I take a deep breath, “I won’t treat you like that again.”
The words hang between us for what feels like an eternity, and then Rhett’s mouth pulls into his most charming smile as he squeezes my hand in his. “I’m impressed. That was really good. I bet not many people can say they’ve gotten a Devon Blake apology.”
My mouth drops open in mock offense. “Are you making fun of me?”
“Just a little teasing, mama.” He gives my hand one more squeeze before releasing it, and I miss his touch immediately. “I forgive you. I know you’re not Crystal, and I know you only said those things to protect yourself.” Am I that transparent? He picks his phone back up from the daybed, opening his photo app again. “You ready for more pictures?” he asks, and just like that, he’s moving on and letting me off the hook in a way I’m not sure I deserve.
After showing me every Halloween costume his nieces and nephews have ever worn, he tells me the story of how he and his dad crashed a golf cart into a lake at his parents’ fortieth anniversary party and then switches the conversation back to me and my family. “What about your dad?”
It’s been such a lovely day, even with the conversation about his ex. Him bringing up my dad is jarring in a way Rhett could not have anticipated. Instinctively, I start to shake my head. I don’t like talking about my dad. Technically, he’s my stepdad. Mom said my birth father broke up with her while she was still pregnant, and she married my stepdad a few years later. He’s never done anything to harm me, but he never cared to know me either. Which means I don’t know him well.
But something about the way Rhett regards me with curiosity and patience when he sees the shift in my body language, but not an ounce of judgment or pity, makes me want to share. “My dad’s a nice enough guy, but we aren’t close. The dynamic in my house is sort of-mom raised me, and he raised my two younger brothers. They’re six and eight years younger than me, both of them D-1 athletes, his dream come true.”
Rhett looks me up and down, tilting his head. “You’re an athlete.”
“Yeah, I played volleyball all through school but didn’t want to pursue it in college. Dad would always come to my games until my brothers were old enough to play their own sports, and he usually had to be there instead.” I laugh, but it’s forced. “He just had a different focus.”