Missing Dixie (Neon Dreams #3)(21)

The truth is I don’t know. So I tell him that.

“I don’t know what I think or believe, to be honest.”

“I think you do, Bluebird. But I understand why you would fight it. I haven’t done much to make myself clear, have I?”

“Not exactly,” I whisper, afraid of breaking this magical trance where he opens up. I stare at him, unsure whether he’s testing me or not. His eyes are dark, but his lips are slightly upturned. I could stare at him every second of every minute of every hour for the rest of my life and still not get my fill of him.

My head knows he just wants to keep me in the friend zone where he feels I belong, but my heart is leaping for joy as if he’s made some huge declaration my head hasn’t processed yet. There’s always been something about him, about us. Something magnetic. Something enticing. An unrelenting force pulling us toward one another.

Something more powerful than either of us as individuals.

He remains still, watching me as if waiting for me to catch a clue, but I can’t seem to put it all together. I can tell he’s trying, but his eyes are always so guarded. He’s difficult to read and when you add that to how little he actually verbalizes, it’s like trying to put together a puzzle while someone holds the picture of what it’s supposed to look like behind their back.

With a deep sigh, Gavin stands, leaving me rocking a little harder backward on the swing.

“I should go. Being here, with you, after tonight . . .”

“I’m not going to beg you for one more night, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Whoa. That just shot right out of my mouth. Apparently I have some repressed anger still hanging around.

Gavin frowns at me. “I’m not worried about that. Not in the least.”


Ouch. Thanks for that. “Oh. Okay. Well, I just wanted to be clear. I got it, that it was just the one night and then the second time I was all upset over my grandpa and—”

“That was the fourth time, sweetheart. For the record.”

Now I’m flustered. I don’t know what his game is, but he’s better at it than I am. I flush all the way from my head to my toes and it’s a deep burn. Gavin always was the flame and I always was the bluebird flying too close.

“Right. Anyway, I just wanted to say that I’m not going to be that girl anymore.”

He shoves his hands in his pockets and gazes at me as if I’ve said something amusing. “What girl would that be?”

I stand because I don’t like the positioning of him looking down at me. “The one who had some silly notion that one night would change anything. The one that pushed you into something you obviously didn’t really want to get involved in.”

“Ah. That girl.” He nods a little too emphatically. “I see. The one who took what she wanted, consequences be damned?”

“Um.”

“The one who was honest about her feelings and bared her heart and soul to an undeserving *? The girl who stood her ground and demanded I stop being a f*cking coward and give her what we both wanted and needed?”

“Yeah?” Now I’m confused.

“Oh good. That girl is nothing but trouble. Glad I won’t be seeing her anymore.” There’s an undeniable gleam of mischief in his eye and I can’t help it—seeing him playful and teasing makes me smile.

“You’re twisting the situation,” I bite out at him.

“Am I? Because if memory serves, that girl was pretty honest about what she wanted. It’s this new one that seems to keep her true feelings on lockdown. But that’s why I came by.”

“To unlock my feelings?”

He grins at my dubious tone. Pretty sure this is the most I’ve ever seen him smile. Like, ever.

“To tell you that I understand why you’re being careful. Why you’re guarded. I deserve that.”

And we’re back to square one. My gaze narrows on him. “I’ll consider myself warned.”

“For now,” Gavin says easily while making his way down the porch steps. “I want you to be careful around me. But one day, one day I will get my shit together, I will have something real to offer you, and hand to God, I will be someone you can trust again.”

“Gavin Garrison, if you tell me to wait for you right now, I’ll—”

“I’m not telling you to do anything. I’m just letting you know that once upon a time a devil fell in love with an angel,” his hypnotic voice tells me. “And now that devil is working on becoming the kind of man worthy of an angel’s love. That’s why I didn’t call you when I came home. I have a few issues I need to work through and straighten out.”

“Do these issues involve the blonde from the bar?”

He flinches. Noticeably. Did he think I forgot about her?

“Sort of,” he answers. “At the moment, yes. It’s complicated. But it won’t always be, if that makes sense.”

“It doesn’t.”

“I’m sorry.” In his defense, he does appear genuinely apologetic.

“Me too,” I say, because it’s all that comes to mind.

“Good night, Bluebird.”

“Night, Gav.”

I watch him walk down my driveway toward wherever he parked on the street and disappear into the night. I don’t even know how I feel, just that I feel so many things all at once. Too many to divide and decipher.