Tymber Dalton - The Denim Dom

Well, I didn’t want clingy.

But maybe she was really over it, and him.

He scrolled through his mail, dumping almost everything, and skimming past a message from Leah nearly a week earlier that he almost deleted by accident. Once he had the dreck cleaned out, he went back to read it.

She included a brief message at the top of the e-mail, followed by the forwarded text from a message Shayla had sent her.

You need to read this, you frigging asshat. WTF is wrong with you? Why the hell haven’t you texted or called her? I thought you gave a damn about her? She’s in love with you and afraid to text you because you’ll think she’s “clingy.” Get your shit together or you’re going to lose her.

Leah.

By the time he finished reading the rough draft of Shayla’s article, his throat felt dry. He called Leah.

“Well, it’s about damn time you picked up a fricking phone, you damn asshat.”

“How is she? I just read your e-mail.”

“Not good, thanks to you. She thinks you don’t give a damn about her. And why haven’t you texted or called her yet?”

He rubbed his forehead. “It’s been crazy out here. This is literally the first time I’ve had to sit down and check my personal e-mail. I thought since I hadn’t heard from her that maybe she was okay with everything ending.”

“No. You apparently did such a damn fine job drilling it into her head that you don’t like clingy women that now she’s afraid to text you first. And she’s convinced since you said you’d be in touch, and you weren’t, that you don’t care.”

“Okay, I’ll call her right now.”

“Good luck with that. It’s early Saturday morning here, asshat. I’m only up because we just got back from a club, and besides—” He heard sounds like Leah had lost the phone.

Then Seth came on the line. “Tony?”

“Hi. What just happened?”

In the background, Tony could hear more sounds, like Leah was trying to get the phone away from Seth. “Um, listen, sorry about that. I’m going to put Leah to bed. She’s had a long day.”

Tony pinched the bridge of his nose. “No, it’s okay. I deserve it. I am an asshat.” At the sudden quiet on the other end of the line, Tony thought maybe the call had dropped. “Seth?”

“Yeah, I’m here. I was just trying to decide if I heard you right.”

“You heard me right. You can put her back on. Don’t spank her.”

“Oh. Okay. Hold on.”

The phone exchanged hands again, because Leah returned, sounding put out in addition to indignant. “What’d you tell him?”

“That I’m an asshat.”

Another surprised silence from Florida. “Oh. Okay. All right then. Glad you see things my way.”

“I’ll call her in the morning.”

Leah sighed. “You won’t reach her. I talked to her before she left work last night. She’s really sad and going off the grid, as she called it, for the weekend. She’s shut off her phone and left her computer at work. She mentioned something about getting drunk and eating chocolate while watching bad movies, and I think she means it. I tried to call her again tonight before we went out and it went to her voice mail. Usually she’ll at least text me back, but she hasn’t.”

If he hadn’t felt bad enough already, that added to it. “Oh. Crap. You know what I’m like when I’m buried at work. I get tunnel vision. This was a nightmare install.” He rubbed his forehead. “I really screwed up here, didn’t I?”

“Uh, yeah. Ya think? First thing Monday morning, I’d say your ass better be on the phone to her.”

“Well, on the off chance you do hear from her—”

“I will tell her I talked to you and that she needs to try to call or text you and let you know she’s got her phone back on, yes.”

“Thanks, Leah.”

“Hey, Tony?”

“What?”

There was a moment of quiet tension before she asked, “Is she the one?”

He let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. “Yeah,” he quietly said. “If I haven’t gone and fubared it before we even had a chance, I really do think she’s the one.”

* * *

Shayla refused to read any romance novels that weekend. She couldn’t stomach the thought of reading about someone else’s happy ending when hers had been yanked right the hell out from under her.

She also didn’t want to contemplate how in the hell she’d ever meet someone else like Tony. No, she didn’t have any official confirmation that all hope was dead in the water, but she was a realist. After having been screwed over with James, it was easier to accept the worst instead of hoping for the best.

Hoping for the best had gotten her over fifteen grand into debt she didn’t even owe.

Going back to a vanilla life wouldn’t be possible. She’d entered a whole new world, one she knew meant she’d never be satisfied settling for a vanilla guy.

I refuse to think about it this weekend.

Instead, she spent the weekend going around the world via microbrewery beer.

She hoped she had room in her recycling bin for all the bottles and cans.

She also moved her car keys into her underwear drawer. She didn’t think she’d be stupid enough to try to drink and drive, but if she got so plastered she forgot that, she’d probably never remember where she put them until she sobered up.

Or had to change her panties.

By Saturday evening she’d severely tested the endurance of her liver. She spent the day watching every stupid movie she could think of that she’d never watched before for the very reason that they were stupid. Beer, however, made everything funnier.

It also made it easier not to think about Tony Daniels.

I’m going to get a cat next week. This is ridiculous. I need a life. I’ll get a cat.

When the thought of a Facebook meme she’d seen, of an IKEA cube organizer filled with a cat per space, crossed her mind, she giggled.

I’m not so drunk I want to be a crazy cat lady either. One’s my limit.

By Sunday afternoon she’d run out of beer and let herself sober up. She wasn’t completely hungover, but she took a couple of ibuprofen as insurance.

Her sadness also returned. As she curled up on the couch with her arms wrapped around a pillow, she allowed herself to cry one last time. I need to get him out of my system. He’s like a damn drug I can’t wean myself off of.

She knew Monday would be hard, but she also knew after what she’d faced with James that she should be able to deal with it.

At least he didn’t cost me any money. Just my heart.

I can’t wait to get home. Bone weary, Tony found his car in long-term parking and threw his bags in the trunk before getting in. He didn’t have the luxury of sleeping in a little that morning before his flight because of last-minute issues cropping up in the Denver data center. For a couple of hours, it was doubtful he’d even make his flight, until they finally got things straightened out.

Since it was just before midnight on a Sunday, he gave silent thanks there wouldn’t be any traffic jams to deal with on his drive home from Tampa.

Although it sucked knowing he had to go in to work the next morning. He had too many backlogged issues to deal with there to even think about taking time off.

When he looked over at the passenger seat, he froze. Shayla’s collar still lay where he’d left it that morning two weeks earlier, before he went to Denver. He’d forgotten to take it into his house.

He picked it up and fingered it. The lump welling in his throat surprised him.

Life had felt relatively empty since heading to Denver, and he wouldn’t deny it. It wasn’t due to the trip, living out of a suitcase in a damn hotel, or not having a moment of free time when he wasn’t working.

Leah’s harsh words to him over the phone played through his mind.

I am an asshat.

“Dammit.” He put the collar down and pointed his car south. He reached Sarasota a little over an hour later. Instead of getting off at his exit at Bee Ridge Road, he continued south, to Clark Road, which would lead him straight to her apartment. His original plan had been to call her first thing in the morning.

He couldn’t wait. He’d waited two damn weeks with his heart on hold, and he had to know, tonight, where he stood with her. Or if he even had a chance with her.

At the very least he had to apologize to her for not being in touch.

The complex lay dark and quiet when he pulled in and shut the car off. No lights shone behind the blinds in her unit, but her car sat parked in its usual spot.

He grabbed the collar, got out and locked the doors, and marched up to her door. She didn’t have a doorbell, so he knocked.

He glanced around as he waited, but there wasn’t any response despite his knocking sounding loud to him. He tried again, this time pounding on the door nearly as hard as his pulse thundered through his veins while he yelled her name.

* * *

Shayla awoke from a deep sleep and lay in bed, disoriented, trying to figure out what woke her. She’d rolled over and closed her eyes again when she heard the pounding on her door.

She grabbed her cell phone from where she’d left it, off and charging, on the bathroom counter. Grateful for the fact that she’d slept in a T-shirt that night, she silently padded out to the foyer without turning on any lights. A third round of pounding made her jump as she approached the door.

“Shayla! Open up, it’s me.”

She froze for a moment before scurrying to the door to squint through the peephole, since she hadn’t grabbed her glasses. Sure enough, Tony Daniels stood on her front stoop.