Because I Can Read online

  I hurry into the closet, pull on leggings, a sweater, and sneakers, eager to join Dash. I find him at the window, dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, with boots, his hand on the glass. As if he senses my presence, he turns to face me. And in the sunlight, that shiner is shining all right.

  “I think I should go talk to Bella. Just wait here.” I round the coffee table and wrap my arms around him. “Really, Dash. It’s bad. Seeing her later, not sooner, when it’s not this dramatically horrid is a good idea.”

  “You can’t save me from my sister, cupcake.”

  “I don’t want to save you from Bella. I just want to soften the impact of her reaction. Don’t underestimate me. I can do more to help than you think I can.”

  “I assure you, Allie, I do not underestimate you on this or anything else. But neither do I underestimate my sister’s reaction. Let her scream and shout because she will. And then let this be over.” He catches my arms and pulls me to him. “I know we have to talk, but when we get down there—”

  “I’m with you, Dash,” I say, meaning it in every possible way. “I told you. I shouldn’t have left last night. Nothing that happened after I did changes that.”

  “It depends on what changed your mind.”

  “You,” I say. “You changed my mind.”

  “I’m not good for you, Allie. I know that. And I know what the right thing to do is.”

  “What does that mean, Dash?”

  “It means, I know what I should do right now, but I’m just not going to do it.”

  My stomach knots. Is he talking about walking away from me? Or continuing to fight? “What does that mean?”

  “Dash!”

  At the sound of Bella’s voice from somewhere nearby, Dash’s jaw clenches. “If we don’t go to her, she’ll come to us. We deal with her. Then we’ll deal with everyone else.”

  Only I’m not sure we will. I’m not sure of much right now. I don’t know where Allison is. I don’t know who was in my house last night. I don’t know why Dash is punishing himself. I don’t know what to do about any of it.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  The minute Bella's gaze lands on Dash she gasps, her hand covering her mouth, her eyes shutting. “God, no,” she whispers, and then when I expect her to lose it and freak out on Dash, she does just the opposite. She does what I don’t expect.

  She rushes to Dash and wraps her arms around him, hugging him with all her might, her head pressed to his chest. For my part, my attention is on Dash’s tormented expression, and the slow fold of his arms as they close around her. The instant he hugs her, her chin tilts upward, her gaze seeking his. “Why?” she asks softly. “Why now? Things are so good for you, Dash.”

  Pain stabs through me at Dash’s situation and without even thinking, I rush to his rescue. “Someone broke into my house last night. Dash saved me.”

  “Oh my God,” Bella murmurs, pulling away from Dash, her attention sliding between us. “Broke in? While you were there?”

  “Exactly,” I explain, leaving out the part where I was alone, and Dash was not there. “Thank God for Dash. He ended up fighting some big monster of a man, and all because of me,” I add because it’s how I honestly feel. He was fighting last night because I left him. And he did fight a monster of a man. That monster was in a fight club, not at my house, but Bella doesn’t need to know that.

  I can feel Dash’s eyes on me but I stay focused on Bella as I continue with, “I don’t know who he was or how this happened.”

  “Oh my God,” she gasps again, but this time it’s different, the complicated fear of Dash fighting again is gone. “This is so scary,” she continues. “What if Dash hadn’t shown up? Was it a break-in? Did they think the house was vacant?”

  “I don’t know what it was,” I say. “The other Allison lived in that house not long ago. Maybe someone was looking for her. Maybe the man came with her and she didn’t know I’d taken over the house.”

  She blinks. “Wait. What? You’re in the same house Allison was in? How is that possible?”

  “I think I need coffee to tell this story,” I say, glancing at Dash. “And you need ice or heat or both on that eye.”

  “Both,” Bella declares. “He needs to do both. I’ll get a pack of ice together and I already made coffee.” She wags a finger between us. “Both of you. Go sit at the bar. I brought bagels and cream cheese. You both need to eat. And I’ll pour you coffee.” She turns and rushes toward the island.

  Dash catches my hand and pulls me in front of him, leaning down to press his lips to my ear. “Thank you. And you didn’t make me do anything, Allie. I own this. Just me.” He pulls back to look at me. “Understand?”

  “It’s not that simple, now is it?”

  “Come you two love birds. Coffee. Food. Me.”

  At Bella’s teasing prod Dash’s lips press together, but he swings me around and under his arm as he guides me to do as commanded. Dash and I each claim a barstool and steamy cups of coffee are already in front of us. Bella then sets a bundle of ice next to Dash. “You look like you ran into my doorknob again.”

  Dash laughs, and glances over at me. “I was chasing her when we were kids. She tried to slam the door in front of me. I managed to take the knob in my face. And yes, I was short, but not that short. Apparently, I bent over.” He grimaces at Bella. “And I was the one who got grounded.”

  “Because you broke mom’s vase,” she objects, “not because you took a doorknob in the eye. And you were babysitting. Mom was fair on all things. You know that.”

  He grunts and shoves the ice on his face. The toaster pops and she turns around and attends to the food. I glance over at Dash. “Don’t you need to work on your book today?”

  “Don’t remind me. My head is pounding and it does me no good to write a bunch of garbage.”

  It’s more than his head. He needs to be in a hot tub of water, soaking out the aches and pains, and he will be, as soon as Bella leaves. I’ll make sure of it.

  Bella sets a plate in front of each of us, both with cream cheese-covered bagels on top. “I have Advil in my purse. I’ll get you some.” She pushes off the island and heads into the living area, where she obviously set her purse.

  Dash sets the ice down and glances over at me, his lips pressed together. “You’re right. I have to get words on the page. My own stupidity is no excuse for not doing my job.”

  “Your own stupidity?” Bella asks, reappearing way too quickly with a bottle in her hand. “What does that mean, Dash?” She’s scowling again, suspicion in her tone as she sets the Advil in front of him.

  “It means, I thought I could actually make that early deadline you wanted. Now I went off and got the shit beat out of me like a little pussy, and I’m no longer in that same head space.”

  Oh, he’s good. He just moved the conversation from her suspicion to what matters to her—him and his work-in-progress. And as he knew she would, she peps up. “You think you might make an earlier deadline?”

  “If you stop drilling me and let me go sleep a couple of hours and get to work. Maybe.”

  Correction, he’s not just good, he’s sensational. He didn’t just redirect her attention from his black eye, he gave her a reason to leave and stop drilling him.

  “Don’t get my hopes up for nothing, Dash.”

  “I’m not getting your hopes up at all,” he says, downing the Advil with a gulp of coffee. “I’m saying I’m trying. That’s more than I said before.” He motions to me. “And you can thank Allie for that. She made me read the book from the beginning. I decided it doesn’t suck as badly as I thought.”

  “It doesn’t suck at all,” I chime in. “It’s brilliant.”

  “Really?” she asks. “I mean, of course, it is. It’s Dash we’re talking about here.” She glances at him. “And you and your brilliance have a charity event signing in two weeks. Are you going to be ready?”

  “If you go home and let me sleep this off.”

  “Sleeping doesn’t heal black eyes.�
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  “Sleep heals,” he argues. “So does silence.” He grinds his teeth, but not because of Bella. “My damn head feels like a drank a bottle of tequila and didn’t have the fun that goes along with it,” he grumbles.

  “Eat,” she orders. “You know you get headaches when you don’t eat.”

  “That’s you not me,” he reminds her.

  “Right. Well, you still need to eat. And I need coffee.” She turns around and grabs a cup from the cabinet and fills one for herself. I love how at home she is in Dash’s place. I love what that says about their relationship and about Dash as a man.

  I glance at Dash, but his discomfort is palpable, and rather than look at me, he reaches for his bagel. He’s a mess because a) I’ve pierced the veil of his second life, and b) he really doesn’t like to lie to Bella, and avoiding those lies right now feels a bit like we’re flies dodging a fly swatter. He would do anything for Bella. And his torment over keeping things from her, speaks of a flawed man who can still love everyone but himself, and I swear in this realization I find I fall harder for him than ever.

  I don’t know what is behind Dash’s pain, not fully, maybe not at all, and I wonder if Bella knows, either. The only thing I do know is that Dash can’t go on like this. He has a battle to fight for himself and I’m determined to make him see that he’s worth that fight.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Bella busies about the kitchen while Dash is hyper-focused on his plate, his gaze downturned and not by accident.

  The eyes are the window to the soul.

  And while that might be true, I believe most of us are shuttered, protecting ourselves from vulnerability. I don’t believe I ever looked into Brandon’s eyes and saw his soul, or I would have seen the poison thriving inside him. Dash wears a façade of this easy-going guy who gets along with most everyone, Tyler excluded, of course, when the truth is, deep inside he’s all pain and torment. No one sees the truth of who he is because he doesn’t want them to see those things.

  And yet, I did.

  And I do.

  And I know that right now, he’s just trying to get through this encounter with his sister without it exploding in his face while expecting a similar situation with me later today. I don’t want him to dread the conversation with me. The minute I have the chance, I’ll make sure he knows that while I want to know him and understand why he fights, I won’t demand answers.

  Bella rejoins us at the island with her coffee in hand. Eager to please her, and thus keep her mind off Dash’s injuries, I quickly bite into what proves to be a delicious chocolate chip bagel with cream cheese. “These are wonderful, and a bit sinful, I do believe,” I say, offering my eager approval, as she claims the seat next to me.

  “Aren’t they?” she asks. “I ate one about an hour ago. I was up early and didn’t want to wake you guys up. I’m waiting on news from the record label about my client that performed last night. I wanted to be up and fresh if I have to negotiate.”

  Today, “up and fresh” for her means black leggings and a black sweater with her blonde hair in a ponytail, all of which she makes look stunning.

  “How do you feel about his chances?” Dash asks, sipping his coffee.

  “I have no idea,” she replies, sounding exasperated. “These record execs are as hard to read as the men I date, but he’s talented. He got that ‘thing’ that grabs people.”

  “He does,” I say. “I really do believe he does.”

  “If only you worked for the record label,” she replies. “Tell me more about the break-in. I just can’t imagine how terrifying it must have been.”

  I sigh. “Yeah, well, I was downstairs when I heard the intruder and ended up huddling in the wine cellar in the dark. Where,” I add, “I had limited phone service. I called Dash and was disconnected but thankfully he was already on his way back from the store.” The partial lie sits uncomfortably on my tongue and I rush past it. “I tried to convince myself my intruder was just the other Allison returning for something she was missing, and she didn’t know I’d moved in. But why run when Dash came back? Why run from the police?” I snort. “Maybe she just didn’t want to see Tyler. It is his house, after all.”

  Bella sets her cup down with a thud. “Wait what? You’re living in Tyler’s house? And so was she?” She blinks and gives Dash an incredulous look. “And you’re okay with this?”

  “It’s a perk of the job. I’m a tenant.” I open my mouth to say more, to explain that it’s a non-issue now as I resigned from my job, and quickly stop myself. I have no idea how I explain my actions, and no plan to cover Dash in that story comes to me. “And it was a perk of Allison’s job as well,” I say instead. “Tyler’s grandmother lived there. He uses it for the wine cellar and apparently can’t insure it if it’s not occupied. Bottom line, it got me out of my mother’s place without the expense of my apartment in New York and something here.”

  Bella’s lips press together and she just looks at Dash.

  My defenses bristle. “I’m not sleeping with Tyler, Bella. I have never slept with Tyler. I’m not thinking about Tyler. I’m not even sure I like Tyler. And neither was Allison seeing Tyler when she left.”

  Bella’s attention whips to me. “I thought she was seeing Tyler?”

  “No,” I say. “Not Tyler. Or not only Tyler. I don’t know the details, but I get the impression she and Tyler broke up.”

  “Show her the necklace,” Dash says, rotating to face me. “Under the circumstance, I’d say that’s a good idea.”

  In other words, since she thinks I’m playing two men at once, an idea that twists me in knots.

  “What necklace?” Bella asks, a nice way of urging me to do as Dash suggests.

  I’m not against the idea, and in fact, welcome feedback on what to do about the darn thing. With this in mind, I slide off the barstool and walk to the living room where I’ve left my purse, and the necklace inside, at some point.

  Once it’s in hand, I rejoin Dash and Bella, sliding the velvet box in front of her. With a curious look on her beautiful face, she flips open the lid and gasps. “Oh my. This is beautiful. And expensive.” Her eyes find mine. “Did Dash give you this?” She glances in his direction. “Did you give this to Allie? And if so, why is she still in his house?”

  He bypasses the topic of where I should be living. “The necklace was the vehicle that brought Allison into our lives.”

  Bella shuts the lid. “What does that even mean? You gave a necklace to a stranger?”

  “I decided to stay in Nashville through the holidays to be with my mother,” I explain, “but a little extra money to protect my savings felt smart. Thus why I took a job at the Frist Art Museum a few miles from Hawk Legal. That’s where I was working when a delivery came for me. It was addressed to Allison W.”

  Her eyes go wide. “And it was the necklace?” She taps the box. “This necklace?”

  “Yes,” I confirm. “With a note that read: Forgive me. Nothing more. No signature. No return address. I figured out the address was wrong and I went to Hawk Legal looking for Allison. But I didn’t want to tell them about the necklace. It felt personal. Especially with the note taken into consideration.”

  “You should ask Tyler about it,” she says. “He had to have sent it.”

  “Tyler wouldn’t send it to the office when he knew she didn’t work there,” Dash interjects.

  “And Tyler knows about it anyway,” I add. “I went to that meet and greet thing with him and his father, and it fell out of my purse. I had it with me to go put it in a lockbox and never got the chance. After the meeting, when I talked to Tyler about it, he seemed pretty broken up about the idea of another man in her life.”

  “Well, any idea that she ran off with the other man is null and void if he sent her the necklace.”

  My brows furrow with a thought. “Right, but maybe he knows it got lost. I should call the delivery company and see if a claim was filed.”

  “While that’s a good idea,” she agrees, �
�something about this situation feels weird to me. I mean, Allison left abruptly when she was very up and coming at the firm. Why? And of course, logically she did resign and pack her things and leave, or so I assume. If true, that should rule out something far more nefarious.”

  “She did resign,” I agree. “That’s the only reason I’ve restrained myself from going down a rabbit hole of too much worry.”

  “Barely,” Dash comments, rotating to face me, his hand on my knee. “We both know you’re barely restraining yourself.”

  “Okay barely,” I admit. “Bella is right. Something feels off about this. You know it does, Dash. And why won’t she return anyone’s calls? Not even Tyler’s.”

  “Assuming the man who sent the necklace to her was the man she was dating, he clearly didn’t leave with her. Hmmm.”

  “Hmmm never goes anywhere good,” Dash murmurs, sipping his coffee.

  She ignores him and continues as if he hasn’t spoken. “It kind of seems like she’s on the run, doesn’t it? Maybe from the guy who sent the necklace or even Tyler, though I really don’t think Tyler is the stalker type.” Her cellphone rings and she glances down to where it sits on the island. “That’s the record exec I’ve been dealing with.” She’s already on her feet, answering the call. “Hey, Cooper.” She listens a moment. “Yes. Yes. I can meet. I’m dressed for the weekend, but—right. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” She hangs up. “I think this is good. I hope it’s good. I have to run.” She grabs her purse. “Did you check Allison’s social media? And maybe she has a dating profile?”