“I’m fine,” I insisted, fighting the urge to look up at his face.
One of his hands slid onto my knee. Even over the thick material of my brown pants, it was searing hot. Or at least it was like my blood flow had redirected itself to that one point under my skin. Damn you, traitorous body. “Iris, why won’t you look at me?”
Oh hell.
His voice took on that milky, smooth, deep tone that made me feel like a book of matches had been lit inside my gut, and the way he said my name… Ef. Me. I didn’t even think he knew my name. He hadn’t used it once the entire time I’d been working at Pins.
“I just want to get down,” I told him, glancing down at his hand.
Dex squeezed my thigh. “You can get down after you tell me why you still won’t look me in the face.”
I insisted. “Please.”
“No.”
“I want to get down.”
He squeezed me again. “No.”
“Let me down.”
“No.”
Oh shit. Annoyed as hell, I tilted my head up at him. “One minute you're kind of a fucking jerk—," did I just drop the f-bomb again? Why, yes, yes, I had. "Then the next minute you’re carrying me to my room and sharing your secret stash of bread with me. It doesn't make sense,” I said honestly. "I don't want to look at you because you hurt my feelings, okay? I don't know what to think."
And he just blinked. “That it?”
My head dropped back so I could look at the ceiling. Was this guy for real?
“Ritz, c’mon. That’s why you won’t look at me? 'Cause I talk outta my ass?” The questions were so casual it was like he was asking whether I wanted ranch dressing on my salad or Italian. So annoying.
“That's not enough?" I might have wailed my words a little.
This asshole started chuckling. “Don’t get so pissed.” The pads of his fingers brushed a line from my thigh down to my knee in an intimate, delicate gesture that was at odds with the man I’d met a week ago. “I told you it was a mistake. How many more times do you want me to say I’m sorry?”
I gave him a flat look which he returned to me with round, curious eyes. “I know. But you called me an idiot all because I asked you for help on my second day. Who does that?" The truth was, maybe I was an idiot. Because a smart person would have shut their mouth and accepted the forced apology, but there I was, my mouth still running. “The last time anyone called me a fucking-something was three years ago when I bought the last television on sale at Walmart on Black Friday for my little brother. But you know what? I didn’t care then.” The but I care now was implied in spades.
Dex’s thick lashes fluttered closed as he let out a whoosh of air from his lungs. He looked pained. Dex didn’t seem like the type of man who was used to apologizing to anyone. The expression seemed so rough and foreign coming from him, it was like trying to shove a square shaped object through a round hole. “Babe, I’m sorry.” Those pretty blue eyes opened, focusing on mine. “I just...say shit."
"You just say shit?" I repeated.
Oh boy.
I blinked in his features. His long, dark eyelashes, deep set eyes, magnificent square jaw, that nearly perfect nose—Dex The Dick was unbelievably handsome. And I was making him feel like shit for not forgiving him when it truly seemed like he was remorseful. In what might be the first time in his life with the way he expressed it.
"Yeah." It was a statement, a fact. "You're MC, you gotta have thicker skin than that to survive here, you hear me?"
God, grant me strength.
"My dad was a Widow. Sonny's a Widow. I'm not," I explained to him calmly. "I can't just grow a thick skin overnight."
It was his turn to blink. "Yeah, you can." He blinked again. "Who gives a fuck what I say? Tell me if you got a problem. Don't run off and tell Son that I'm treatin' you like shit, and hide your fuckin' face from me because you're hurt over me bein' a dumbass. Tell me. Maybe you don't have a thick skin but I do. I can take it."
Like it was that easy.
I sighed and closed both of my eyes, annoyed with myself for having kept the job when I didn't really want to, all because of circumstances. Circumstances that, as always, revolved around money. Crap.
I sighed again.
Wasn't it easy to just be nice out of the kindness of his heart instead of bullied into it?
I almost laughed. Like Dex could be bullied into something. I'd known him a few days and I already knew he was immovable.
"Don't get all emo on my ass." He nudged my knee with his hip. "Tell me you got a problem."
I couldn't. I just couldn't.
The risk of losing this friggin' job that I wasn't even that fond of yet was too high. If he got pissed off about me asking for help, how pissed would he be if I told him to quit being a dick? Despite the fact that my brother had told me to do the same thing Dex was implying...I wasn’t positive that I really had it in me.
“Babe, I’m not gonna have an issue tellin’ somebody that they’re pissin’ me off,” he stated.
No shit.
He nudged my knee with his hip again. “Say it.”
“Say what?” I asked slowly.
“Say what you’re thinkin’,” Dex explained.
I shook my head.
His eyebrows knit together in exasperated patience. “Call me a dick. An asshole. A shit. Whatever you want, just get it out, Ritz.”
The look on my face was probably half horrified, half nervous that he’d said the one nickname I usually called him in my head. “No.”
“Why not?”
“Because that’s rude.”
It was Dex’s turn to blink slowly. “There’s a difference between sayin’ it out loud and sayin’ it in your head?”
Damn it. He had a point.
But before we could go any further, someone in the front yelled Dex’s name loud enough that it was heard through the music playing. With a low grunt, he shifted so that his hip contact turned into the long length of his thigh pressing into my knee and shin. “I’ll try not to take my shit out on you again but if I do, say somethin’. I’m not gonna bite your head off for bein’ honest with me, all right?”
I gave him a dubious look because seriously? Did he really expect me to think he’d take me calling him an ugly name well? Oh please. But okay, whatever made him sleep better at night.
I was tired of being so angry. I could try to be a bigger person and wash my hands of this. It would be impossible to say that Dex wasn’t trying to fix this muck in his own brutal way. He deserved points for effort.
Okay, not really but still. Move past it. Forget it.
“Look, I’m gonna hope you forget what I said or forgive me sooner than later because I’m not a fan of this shit right now. I’m sorry and that’s the damn truth. But I want you to open that little mouth and say whatever’s botherin’ you from now on, all right?”
I didn’t say anything in response because I didn’t think he needed an answer.
He kept looking at me with those high intensity eyes until I realized he did want a confirmation. “Okay.”
Dex ducked his head in to catch my eyes more fully.
This guy. God. I raised my voice and repeated myself. “Fine, I’ll say something from now on.”
With a single pat to my knee, he was gone a moment later.
And I sat there wondering what the hell had just happened.
Chapter Nine
The days seemed to pass by in a blur of work, Sonny, his home, getting paid, and my new favorite place—the Austin Public Library branch right by the shop. I registered for my card before work one day, since I figured that with my starving bank account I wouldn’t be able to afford buying any books in the near future. And to be honest, once I got my card and settled into my routine, it was good—comfortable. I'd even applied for a couple of full-time jobs and that made me excited.