Page 111 of The Draft
Rubbing my thighs together, I pushed the fabric of my miniskirt down and made my way over to the kitchen. Taking a seat on one of the barstools opposite Dash, I leaned over and watched him tend to the rice. “Smells delicious,” I drawled out, and he responded with a usual grumble.
“So, are you sure you’re okay with missing Scotty’s party?”
“Yes.” Short and to the point. I was getting the distinct feeling that he didn’t want to talk, which was fine. He probably needed the quiet to concentrate, and I didn’t want to get in the way.
Pushing myself off the barstool, I let my hand brush across thecountertop as I explored the room while Dash was busy. A large wicker basket caught my interest, so I strolled over and opened the lid. “What’s this basket for?” I asked, pulling out a rubber duckie and making it squeak.
He looked up and shook his head, letting out a low rumble of laughter. “Scotty introduced it when we moved in. He calls it the basket of doom. He hates messes, and it’s the only way to keep this place looking good. We shove everything in there that’s found out here, and if it isn’t claimed in two weeks, it’s thrown out.”
Just as he finished, I pulled out a purple lacy bra and cringed. “Guessing no one is going to claim that.”
“You don’t want to know where that was found, but I’m guessing it’s a friend of Erik’s since most of the girls he sleeps with like being watched,” he said before stirring the rice.
I raised my brows and dropped the bra back in the basket before placing the lid on top. That explained why I saw Erik out here sleeping on the couch that last time. Wincing, I really hoped I hadn’t walked in on a freshly fucked Erik. I shivered, trying not to think about it as I walked away from the basket.
Strolling around the couch, I let my fingers dance across the fabric as I made my way to the TV. It wasn’t on, but there was a little picture beside it, and it was the first time I’d gotten close enough to see that it was a team photo from last year. Dash was in the back, towering over everyone and scowling. The uniform made him look menacing, and his height only added to it.
“Dinner’s ready,” he said, and by the time I’d gotten to him, the food was already on the table and Dash was holding out a chair for me. Pushing my skirt down one more time, I gave him a small smile before sitting. He kissed the top of my head as he tucked me in. “I hope you like it.” His breathing was jagged, and he let out another low, almost anxious chuckle. Was Dash nervous?
As if my heart couldn’t warm any more for this man, it almost felt like it was melting from his behavior. I was the one causing his nervousness and that was something I never thought possible. With Dash Bridges, no less.
“I’m sure I will. It looks delicious.”
Dash seemed calmer now as he sat opposite me, reaching for his fork.
“Cheers.” I raised a glass, and although surprised by my gesture, he dropped his fork and followed along. Bringing his glass to mine, they clinked together. “To us.”
He tipped his chin in acknowledgment, and after taking a sip of his wine, he went straight to eating as if I weren’t here. He was hoovering up his dinner, and just as I was about to take my first bite, I dropped the fork onto the plate because I wanted to say something.
With my hands braced on top of the table, I let them dance across the wood before asking, “Do you think this is weird?”
“What?” He stopped himself from taking a bite and looked at me.
“You and me being on a date.”
He coughed, seemingly annoyed at my question. “No. Why? Do you?”
“No. Um, it’s just…” I was squirming in my seat, not really sure how to broach the subject. “You’re not talking.”
“I don’t talk much.”
That made me feel bad. I wasn’t trying to suggest Dash should change. I knew who he was when I first approached him, but I guessed I was just expecting something a little different.
“I know, but you went to all this effort to cook for me, and you’re even skipping Scotty’s party to be here, so it kind of feels like you might want to talk more instead of just getting to the point.” He kept staring at me and it made me nervous. I couldn’t help myself; I kept talking. “But if getting to the point is what you want, I’m not wearing panties, because I kind of assumed you’d want quick and easy access. Just so you know.”
He closed his eyes and breathed in, and I knew I had struck a nerve. “You aren’t wearing panties?”
“Nope,” I popped out with a big smile.
He pinched his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “I knew I should have taken you out to a restaurant for dinner. That shit is too tempting.”
I instinctively crossed my legs, sitting up straighter. “But you didn’t take me to a restaurant. Why?”
“I didn’t because I wanted it to be just us. Like you said. I wanted to get to know you out of the context of everything else.”
“Well, I’m here now, Big Man. I’m yours for the taking, so take me.” Lifting my fork, I took a bite of the risotto and let out a hum of approval.
He paused, then shook his head with a smile. I loved that I could break the tension between us so easily. I playfully knocked his foot with mine from under the table, and when I moved my foot back, he followed, leaving his leg in between mine. Like he didn’t want to stop our connection.