“Dani, I—”
She huffs. “No, you didn’t. You took the violent route, like you always do.” She starts walking away from me but I don’t let her get far. I want to pull her back to me, to have her face me with those fierce eyes again but I also just bloodied a guy’s face up for doing just that so I decide against it.
“I’m not going to apologize for keeping you safe.”
Danika is silent as she walks ahead of me but I know she’s nowhere near the end of this conversation. She’s methodical. Always needed to think through her thoughts before speaking. So, I give her time. We walk the rest of the way home in silence.
It’s only when the door closes behind us that she finally whips around to face me.
“You have absolutely no right to do anything like that. For me. To anyone. Ever.”
“Oh, don’t I? In case you haven’t realized, I’ve been doing it for a hell of a long time.”
“What are you talking about?” She’s ripped off her coat and slung it on the back of the dining room chair. Stalking toward the kitchen, Dani angrily opens the refrigerator but shuts it immediately after, facing me again. Even though she’s seemed to calm down a bit, I don’t think this is the time to tell her I’ve been defending her damn honor ever since she was in middle school.
I sigh, running my hands through my buzzed scalp. “Was I just supposed to let that guy pull you away from me?”
Dani’s eyes soften somewhat. “Maybe. Or maybe you’re just supposed to know that I can fight my own battles and if I need help, you’ll be the first one I call. Okay?” She’s pulling her ring on and off her finger, a sign I need to let this go for now. She’s been pushed to her limit.
A long deep breath escapes my chest. “Okay.”
“Good,” Danika nods a few times before opening the fridge again. This time she pulls out two water bottles, handing one to me. She glances at her phone. “It’s still kind of early. Do you wanna finish watching that movie we started yesterday?”
I’m halfway through chugging the tiny plastic bottle before I can respond. “Nah, I’ve got an early shirt tomorrow. I’m just going to go to bed.”
Danika gives me a tentative grin and a nod of understanding. “Night, Ard.”
“Night, brat.”
We head to our respective rooms without another word.
Chapter Nineteen
Danika
“Sowhat’sonyouragenda for this week? Any fake dating I need to do?”
Sticking my tongue out at Arden, I look at my planner. “Same class schedule and two planned study sessions with my anatomy group.” That Nico is in.Ugh.Just thinking about spending time with him makes my skin crawl. I glance up at Arden and his jaw is tense. I guess I’m not the only one affected by him.
I hate to admit this but I’m still reeling about last night. So many things happened that it’s taking me more time than usual to wrap my head around it all.
First, Arden kissing the everloving crap out of me. That kiss was nothing like the one he gave me when I was sixteen. It was also nothing like the one we shared last year. Last year’s kiss was sloppy and drunk. A mistake. Last night’s kiss? That kiss was a beacon. A fortune. A sign of things to come. If we continued down this path, we could be sharing more kisses like that.More fake kisses, you mean.Shaking my head, I banish the thoughts of that epic fake kiss.
Because not only was it fake, it was followed by a violent display of masculine rage. Enough to scare me. And I don’t scare easily. I can’t forget about Arden’s past and how he’s been known to let his impulses take control. At least this time he was able to calm himself down and pull himself away. But still, it shouldn’t have happened in the first place.
I was seven years old when I saw my dad hit my mom for the first time. We were sitting in the kitchen, mom was cooking dinner and I was doing my spelling homework. I just couldn’t remember how to spell the word orange. When I asked my mom to help me, she turned toward me with a pan of salmon in her hand just as my dad walked into the kitchen. The sizzling oil jumped off the pan and landed on his arm and he whipped his hand out and smacked my mom so hard, she dropped the pan. I can still hear the clatter of the stainless steel hitting the tile floor.
He immediately apologized, picked up the pan, and cradled my mom’s face while she cried. She seemed to forgive him right away. But I didn’t. And I never looked at him the same again.
Arden isn’t my father. But I always told myself I would never be with a violent man. And I’m nothing if I don’t stick to my convictions.
Looking back at my schedule, I remember something I had written in bold letters for Thursday.
“Oh and I’m babysitting Dr. Wilson’s twins on Thursday night. She’s got an event on campus so she’s dropping them off here while her and her husband attend the event.”
Arden chokes on his coffee. “You? Babysitting?”
I look at him incredulously. “Excuse me? What’s wrong with me babysitting?”