14 - too good a guy

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Some twenty minutes later, Erick's car was pulling up in front of me. I stood up, grabbing all of my things and all but throwing myself into the passengers seat. Dallas looked at me but didn't say anything, just cranked up the AC and began to drive.

I was grateful that he could sort of read the room. I knew when I got back to the house, I'd receive the third degree by everyone else. It was nice to find solace in somebody.

We didn't go home right away, much to my dismay. I didn't protest, though, when we pulled up to a breakfast house. I glanced at Dallas and he simply nodded knowingly, turning off the car. I just sat there for a minute, the pounding in my head slowing to a dull throb.

I slipped my shirt back on, not bothering to button up past halfway. Keeping my head down, I made my way into the restaurant where Dallas had already gotten us a table at the far wall, away from the windows. I was grateful for that.

"I ordered you a water," he said.

"Thanks," I mumbled, avoiding his eyes.

When the waitress came back around and delivered our drinks, I didn't protest as Dallas ordered me the greasiest, meatiest breakfast platter they had. I just sat with my eyes trained on the table as I tried to piece together the rest of the previous night.

I wasn't sure why I was feeling so ashamed.

Perhaps it had something to do with the man sitting in front of me. In some weird, nonsensical way, I think I cared about what he thought of me. I never planned on sleeping with Wyatt—not on the first date, anyway. Waking up in his bed made me feel so sleazy, and maybe what was making me feel so guilty was the idea that Dallas thought so, too.

He was just so perfect and clean and sophisticated, everything I'd never be. I saw him as someone I wanted to impress. It didn't make sense, I know, but I just felt like a fucking idiot sitting across from him.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Dallas asked, making me look up at him through my lashes.

I chewed on the inside of my lip, tearing the skin until I tasted blood. "We can," I said, surprising myself. If it had been Erick or Chris or Carlos sitting there, I would dodge the fifty questions like I was in the Matrix.

"Are you okay?" he asked first. I nodded. "Did he do something?" I shook my head. "Well, what happened, then?"

The waitress returned with half of our order. I guess we picked a good time to go there because there was only a handful of people around. The sweet server smiled so brightly, I got a sunburn, and informed us the rest of our food would be out shortly. I didn't have the energy to reciprocate her energy so I let Dallas do the talking.

"So?" he asked when she left us alone.

"I don't know," I shrugged, scratching my arm. "I just remember getting dinner, which was nice, and then we drank a lot. The rest is kinda fuzzy? Like, I remember getting in his car to go to his place and then . . . I dunno. Woke up in his bed."

I watched Dallas's eyebrows furrow, holding his coffee mug in both hands. "All you did was drink and you blacked out? Do you think he . . .?"

It took me a moment to realize what he was suggesting. Did Wyatt drug me? "No! I don't– I don't think so? We were having a really good time. I think I just lost control," I said quickly, not wanting to think that could happen to me. I genuinely didn't think he would do that. He was a perfect gentleman up until I couldn't remember anything.

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