Fan Girl (20 page)

“Why don’t we get out of here, and I’ll show you what I mean?”

I yell, “Check,” and he throws his head back and laughs long and loud. All of these proper people are staring at us, but I don’t care. Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go.

Our waitress, who looks just out of high school, has been making googly eyes at Deklan the entire time we’ve been here. She recognizes him for sure and keeps rudely ignoring me.

“Can I get you dessert?” She flips her hair and bats her lashes.

I smirk at Dek and roll my eyes.

He looks me up and down once then tells her, “I think we’re going to have dessert at home, we’re ready for the check,” while looking at me the whole time.

“It’s a good thing this is a private club or she would be asking for your autograph on her boobs.” I laugh.

He smiles and looks around. “Thank God for that.”

Our waitress brings the check, then Deklan pulls out my chair. As we’re walking out, he stops a couple coming in and asks them to take a picture of us together with his phone. My eyes shoot to him. I’m shocked.
Why would he do that?
He sees my puzzled look and just gives a half smile. Putting one hand in his pocket and the other around my waist, he smiles toward our photographer. I put one hand on his stomach and the other around his waist. I hope my smile doesn’t look fake.
Who is he going to show this to?

Deklan thanks the couple and shakes their hands before leading me to his car.

“What are you going to do with that?” I ask him.

“I don’t know, I just wanted one with us together. Not a big deal.”

He just went out of his way to ask for a picture of us together. He opens my door but grabs my hand so I can’t get in. I look up at him and his face is looking at me like he’s amused.

“So are you ready to go public with this yet? We kissed days ago and you’re still seeing me.”

I search his face. “I’ll tell you what. You go with me to my appointment tomorrow, and if you aren’t shitting your pants scared afterward, I’ll agree to date you for real.” My heart is about to pound out of my chest. I can’t believe I just suggested I get involved with someone I’m not even sure can be in a relationship. Slut.
But what does that make him that he’s pushing this?
Shit I don’t know, I’m just going with what I want, which is him.

He smiles at me and I can only stare in a daze. He leans over and gives me a soft kiss, saying, “Thank you, babe.”

We get back to my house and he turns to me without shutting off the car. “Do you want me to stay, or go?” He raises his hand and slides his fingertips over my cheek.

I flash back to the learning that we talked about and the dessert he wants. I really, really want to, really. But now I’m feeling undecided. The more I’m around him the more I like him. But he’s never been in a relationship. Hell, I’ve never been in a relationship, and I don’t know what I’m doing. I just know I can’t sleep with him again until I know he’s going to stay.

I sigh from deep in my heart. “Why don’t we wait until tomorrow? See how that goes?” I ask quietly.

He nods his head and gives me another soft kiss. Whispering against my lips, “I’ll see you in the morning. Everything’s gonna be okay, Ali.”

As I walk in my house and start cleaning, I think about how much I want him in my life. How much I want to share this with him. How scared I am just to go to the doctor’s appointment with him. I clean like a fiend. Laundry, mopping, dusting, I even vacuum out my car. About six I hear the ding sound and plop down on the couch to pick up my phone on the coffee table.

RedyGo: Are you freaking out yet?

DirtyDozen: Absolutely. My house is freakishly clean. You can eat off of the floor.

RedyGo: Is that where you ate dinner? On the floor?

DirtyDozen: No I just stopped moving. I don’t want to dirty my kitchen, I’ll probably order something in a minute.

RedyGo: Have you ever had that Cuban place down on the beach? It’s amazing.

DirtyDozen: No I don’t know what you’re talking about.

RedyGo: What?!? Prepare to have your mind blown. I’ll pick it up and be there in 30.

What?

DirtyDozen: I thought we agreed to wait.

RedyGo: We did, we are. But I know you’re gonna work yourself up and not sleep tonight. You seem to fall asleep on me all the time. What do ya say?

He’s worried about me sleeping. And he’s bringing me dinner. I sigh. I’m not dumb enough to say no to that.

DirtyDozen: You twisted my arm

Deklan rings my doorbell and when I open the door, my breath stutters to a stop as usual. He’s wearing holey faded jeans with brown leather flip flops and a white t-shirt. He’s covering his sadly shaved head with a dark brown slouchy beanie. I really liked his hair. I swing the door open and as he steps past me, he leans down and kisses my forehead as I breathe him in.

“Cuban, huh?”

He’s unloading the aluminum pans from the plastic bags. “Of course. If you live in this town, you have to know the best kept secret.”

I reply, “The vegan place down the street.”

He gives me a confused look before conceding. “Okay, maybe there’s more than one. This food is the best I’ve found outside of my mom’s. It’s on par with the Keys.”

“Ooo I want to go to the Keys. I haven’t been since college.”

He dishes out plates pointing out, “Plantains, black beans and rice, picadillo, and Cuban bread.”

Everything looks mouthwatering and smells even better. We settle on the couch with a glass of tea, and Deklan commandeers the remote right away.

I take my first bite of seasoned hamburger meat and moan. Eyes closed, head tilted back, I chew the exploding flavors in my mouth. I swallow and look over at Deklan. He’s watching me with a twitch of his lips like he wants to smile but is holding back.

“Good?” he asks casually.

“I want to eat this for the rest of my life.”

He finally lets out a laugh and takes a bite from his plate. “You’ll have to have my mom’s. She makes a boliche that just falls apart. It’s a Cuban pot roast.”

I nod my head, though the thought of meeting his mom gives me butterflies in my stomach. “Anytime.”

After I stuff myself to barely breathing, Deklan takes my plate and puts it in the dishwasher with his. I’m leaning back on the couch watching sports highlights. He stands behind me, puts his hands on my shoulders and talks softly in my ear. “Why don’t you go take a bath?”

I rest my head back on the couch to see him better, and he kisses me upside down, letting his hands slide in the collar of my shirt to stroke my collarbone and throat. He pulls back and gives me another shorter kiss, then straightens up.

I right my head and wait for the room to stop spinning.
Dear God, please don’t let him freak out tomorrow.
I get up and walk into my bathroom. After turning on some Coldplay, I rest and try to calm my nerves. Tomorrow it all becomes real.

I stay in the tub until the water is chilly and then slip on my black and white Hunger Games cami and capri PJ set. My hair goes in a wet braid, and I do my nightly routine. When I get back to the living room, Deklan is laying on the couch, with one hand behind his head, the other holding the remote on his stomach. He looks me over and starts laughing.

“What?” I ask offended.

“Your shirt says District 12.”

“So?”

“So, you’re not a fourteen-year-old girl, and you’re not a teenage boy crushing on Jennifer Lawrence either.” He’s smiling big.

I shrug. “Did you read those books? So good. I never even saw the movie, though I do like Jennifer Lawrence. I’ve seen her interviews, she’s hysterical.”

He holds his arms open so I can get into my favorite spot. “She is really cool. Not a lot of people can stay grounded in Hollywood, that’s for sure.”

Well of course he knows her. Pfffft. I’m not insecure. Okay that’s a lie. These are the circumstances that have become my life. That girl is beautiful. I must have tensed up.

Deklan rubs my arm with the hand he has around my shoulders. “I met her on a talk show one time, before she tripped.”

Okay I feel better. “Sorry,” I say.

He shrugs. “You’re a beautiful woman, but you’re still a woman.”

I try to explain. “I’m not normally like that at all. I wouldn’t be if I wasn’t about to go to an obstetrician tomorrow. If my life hadn’t made this turn. Most guys don’t want a commitment at all.”

I feel Deklan’s chest raise me up and down as he sighs. “I didn’t want a commitment for a long time. I was that guy. But that changed when I got on twitter to see who I could get riled up.” He smiles. “You won me over with bad jokes and dry humor.” He gets serious. “Everything is going to be just fine. I’ll prove I’m not going anywhere.”

“You’re kind of great, I don’t think I’ve told you that today. And thank you for dinner,” I say

“Not golf?”

“Well, I wasn’t going to put too fine a point on it,” I say dryly.

He throws his head back and laughs. “You know you liked golf, if only for having my hands all over you.” He smiles smugly.

“Conceited!” I yell.

“Truth,” he says firmly.

“It’s a wonder your big head fit through the front door!” I shoot back.

“Why do you think I shaved my head?”

I laugh at that one.

Deklan smiles watching me, then palms my head down to his chest playfully. He growls, “Sleep woman, I’m missing the game.”

I rest my head on his hard chest and smile. I could do this forever. I look back up at him and ask quietly, “Why did you get chicken tattoos, Dek?”

He tucks his chin in and looks at me. Studying my face, I feel him breathing against me. Finally he says, “Because once upon a time we only had one fan, and she told me once not to count them. So I don’t, I just count how many albums go platinum. Because that means we have fans to buy them.”

I smile with watery eyes and whisper, “I’ll always buy your albums.”

His face is warm and there’s a small smile on his lips when he whispers back, “I know.”

Chapter 21

Last night I fell asleep during the game, and woke up this morning in my bed. At some point, Deklan must have put me to bed. I think it’s crazy that I didn’t wake up, but I sure hope I didn’t say anything I don’t remember. I wake up at seven so that I can try to relax with yoga before this day happens. Afterwards, I shower and get dressed in a white camisole with a sheer, loose cream button-down shirt over it. My favorite holey distressed, blue jeans with a wide brown belt and brown strapped chunky heels. I put my hair in a complicated, but still casual, bun at the nape and accessorize in gold and dark brown.

I pace the living room drinking a smoothie, hands shaking. Deklan said he would be here to pick me up ten minutes ago. I decide not to wait and grab my brown leather purse and am out the door. His car is pulling up, just as I lock the front door to the house. I stare at the car.

I’m a total mess, so I’m not feeling very nice. I get in the car and the first thing I say is, “What the fuck?”

His eyebrows shoot up as he puts the car in first. “Sorry, the realtor showed up at eight this morning. She wanted details about everything and names of designers for the furniture and shit. I finally just told her to call the interior designer that bought it all and walked out.”

“You should have called me. I’ve been having a heart attack.”

He reaches over and grabs my hand to give it a squeeze. “No way was I missing this, Ali.”

I try to not hyperventilate on the drive over. I must have spaced out because Deklan turns the engine off, and we’re there before I know it. Snatching up my purse, I vault from the car. Deklan meets me at the door to the office and opens the door for me.

I walk in and the first thing I see is a woman that looks like she’s been pregnant for eighteen months. I start to back away, but Deklan gives me a push inside, then holds the door open for her. “Did that just freak you out? I’m freaking out,” I say in a hushed rush.

He chuckles and tells me to check in.

When I get to the window there’s a sweet, thirty-something woman giving me a warm smile.

“How can I help you?”

“I have an appointment,” I say shakily. I pull out my license and give it to her. She takes it and taps on her computer, then hands it back with a stack of forms on a clipboard.

“Just fill these out and bring them up when you’re done.”

I take the forms and find Deklan in a corner seat by the windows, leafing through a parenting magazine. I take the pen and start writing. Halfway through, I snatch the magazine from him. “Stop it, you’re freaking me out.”

He smiles over at me and puts his arm on the back of my chair. “Everything is freaking you out. Just take a breath.”

“How are you so calm?” I accuse him.

“Probably because we aren’t even being seen yet. I’ll let you know when I’m freaking if that will make you feel better,” he says, amused.

“Yes it will. You let me know.” I finish the forms and turn them in. When I sit back down, my leg starts bouncing, and I tap my nails.

“You’re gonna make yourself puke if you don’t chill out,” he says, not helping at all.

“You chill out,” I reply like a five-year-old.

He laughs. “I am!”

I give him a withering glare, and he turns his head to laugh at the windows. When my name is called, I pop up like a jack-in-the-box.

Another nurse in scrubs comes over to me and says, “We’re gonna take mom back and do an exam, then when we’re ready we’ll come out and get dad, if that’s okay?”

I turn to him, white in the face, and mouth “exam” at the same time he’s looking up at me warmly mouthing “dad.”

That freaks me out more, so I just turn around and walk to the door, waiting on the nurse to catch up.

Once vitals are taken and blood is drawn, she takes me to an exam room where the doctor is already waiting. She’s in her forties, in scrubs with a white coat over them, and a stethoscope around her neck. She takes a look at me and starts laughing. “You look scared to death.”

I just nod, I have no words.