I opened my arms, inviting her in, but she didn’t move.
20
Juliette
Istared at his open arms, frozen with indecision. Tonight was a perfect example of what I’d been afraid of. Dylan had to be frustrated with me. After a horribly awkward night, I’d made him leave his friends for no good reason.
“I warned you about this. I told you I’m not good in social situations. I told you I’d embarrass you in front of your friends.” I was mumbling and shouting, but I couldn’t help it. At least I wasn’t crying.
“Come here, baby.”
Unable to resist the comfort of his embrace any longer, I stepped forward. Dylan pulled me the rest of the way to him, smoothing his hand over my hair, and my body relaxed with his arms wrapped around me. I buried my head in his chest so I didn’t have to look him in the eyes, and holding him tight, I finally said what I’d been trying to say all along. “I’m sorry I’mso needy. I’m sorry I ruined your night. I’m so sorry to make you choose between me and your friends.”
His arms tightened around me. “Juliette,” he growled.
“I hate holding you back. I hate making you miss out because I suck. I’d rather not be with you at all than be with you and think I’m ruining your life.”
“Juliette,” he growled again. “Do not say another word, because now you are pissing me off. It’s your turn to listen to me.”
I felt his chest rise under my cheek as he took a deep breath and slowly let it out. I braced for what was coming as he did it again.
“Which Disney character do you make me feel like?”
“What?”
“You know. I’ve told you before.”
My heartbeat picked up and a glimmer of hope started to warm me from the inside. I looked up at him. “Tarzan.”
“Right. And how big do you make me feel?”
That glimmer of hope grew in my chest. “Ten feet tall.”
“That’s right. And you also make me want to beat my chest and declare that you’re mine. You are mine to protect. When I get an opportunity to do that, you don’t tell me you don’t need or want it, and you definitely do not try to break up with me!”
“I like you, and I like your friends, and I had a good time tonight. Well, up until the dancing part. I didn’t mean to agree to dance with them. I like music. I sing loudly and badly when I’m alone in the car. You saw me, so you already know I have no rhythm. I can’t even tap to the beat. I got into the music, and I probably looked like an idiot. Then it was so much worse when they wanted to dance. I hate when people try to dance with me. Even the simplest stuff like they were doing, or even just like a hip or shoulder bump. I don’t know what to do. Everyone was watching us. I dreaded what was about to happen. But I hate thatyou felt the need to drag me out to protect me because I can’t handle a night out without a babysitter. I don’t want you to see me that way. And that’s the really fucked up part. I didn’t want to dance with them, but I didn’t want you to know it. Or your friends to know it.” I paused to take a breath, looked him in the eye, and continued before I lost my nerve. “I hate how perceptive you are. You embarrassed me just as much as they would have.”
“Can I talk now?”
I nodded.
“I’m so sorry I made you feel that way. But I can’t say that I’m sorry for interfering in that moment. Whether you like it or not, I know you. And I really like the woman I know. I get that you felt embarrassed when I stopped you from going with them, but that’s not even close to how I see it. I felt good that I knew what you needed and that I was able to help you. Not to mention, even if you loved dancing, I would never have been okay with that ass shaking his junk in your face.”
“There’s going to be so many situations where I’m uncomfortable. If you try to protect me from all of them, you’ll make me look and feel like an even bigger freak than I already am. And?—”
“You are not a freak,” he growled.
“And,” I continued, shooting him a look, “it makes me feel weak and pathetic to need someone to help me like that. I’ve worked hard to be independent and self-sufficient. I’d rather do things on my own even if it’s hard, or I’m embarrassed because I know I’m screwing it up, than to feel like I need you to do it all for me because I’m incapable on my own.”
“Baby, I know you’re capable. You’re excelling in life—not just for someone with dyspraxia, but for anyone. You’re incredible at your job, which is a really tough one. So good, in fact, you’ve been offered a promotion. You’re smart and sweet. Every single one of my friends loves you. And now you have anincredible boyfriend who just wants to make you happy. I like that I can protect you and make life a bit easier for you. I don’t think I cannotdo it. I don’t want to stand by and watch you struggle if I can help.”
“You can’t help me every time. I don’t want you to.”
Dylan squeezed his arms around me, holding me so tight against his chest I could barely breathe. I felt the tension in his muscles. Would this be an obstacle we couldn’t overcome? With each second he didn’t answer, my heart ached more. Could I actually feel my heart breaking? I’d never felt this way before. Hope. It was the loss of hope that was so heartbreaking.
Dylan suddenly grasped my shoulders and pushed me back. “I got it!” He held me at arm’s length, his eyes and mouth smiling wide.
“What do you get?”