Take a Hint, Dani Brown (The Brown Sisters #2)(80)

Dani bit her lip, because if she didn’t, a tsunami of emotion might spill out and drown them both. “Thank you,” she managed eventually, “for telling me.”

“Thanks,” he said softly, “for being someone I can tell. I wish . . .”

“What do you wish?”

“That they could meet you.” He shrugged. “But at least Mum can.”

The solemnity of the moment was cracked by the strained, wheezing noise Dani made as she choked on her tongue. “You . . . want me to meet your mother?” she squeaked.

“Er . . .” He gave a cough that sounded suspiciously like a laugh. “You sound like you want to jump out of a window right now.”

“No! No, nooo, no. It’s just . . .” She could count on one hand the number of family meetings she’d been involved in, post-Mateo. Actually, she could count on one finger, and that had been an unfortunate accident involving bad sex (there had been whipped cream, much to the dismay of both Dani and her vaginal pH), mind-blowingly poor timing, and a spare key under the doormat.

“Relax,” Zaf snorted. “I’m not trying to wheel you out already. I’m just assuming it’ll happen eventually, unless you develop some seriously impressive avoidance skills.”

Dani gave a nervous laugh and wondered just how serious those avoidance skills might have to be. Not that she’d ever avoid Zaf’s last remaining parent, whom he spoke about with such love in his voice, and with whom he was clearly quite close, and who might easily hate Dani’s guts or generally disapprove of her hair and her boobs and her witchcraft, not that Dani would care, but Zaf might care, and—

“All right,” he said firmly, a slight smile curving his lips. “New subject, before your head explodes.”

“My head’s not going to explode.”

“No, it’s not, because we’re changing the subject.”

She laughed. How could he always make her laugh? And why did he seem so much calmer about all this, as if things between them hadn’t transformed out of nowhere? Not that she was complaining, exactly. One of them needed to stay calm through all this new territory, and it made sense that Zaf would be that one. Even now, the way he touched her, the easy rhythm of his breaths and the warmth in his eyes, made her heart rate slow a little more.

His thumb stroked her cheekbone, a soothing motion that went on for long moments before he spoke again. “I once asked you why you didn’t believe in relationships.”

“I remember.”

“You gave me an answer. But I’ve been wondering lately,” he said, his tone careful, “if you told me everything.”

Dani swallowed. “No. I didn’t.”

Beneath the sheets, his hands found her waist and held on tight. “Do you want to tell me now?”

Not really. That was her gut instinct, anyway, but for once, she didn’t quite agree with it.

She thought about all the things he’d told her, all the troubles he’d shared with her simply because she’d asked him to. The pain he’d endured, and fought, and beaten, and how honored she felt every time he gave her a glimpse of it. If he could tell her all that, surely she could tell him an embarrassing story or two, couldn’t she?

Yes. Yes, she could.

So Dani began. “I did fall in love once. During undergrad, I met a boy called Mateo. I’d never been in a relationship before him—I suppose I was a late bloomer. And a giant nerd.”

Zaf squeezed her hip. “You’re still a giant nerd.”

“This is true, but I was worse back then. Finding time to balance my giant nerdery with actual human interaction has never come naturally to me.”

His lips twitched. “Really?”

“Oh, shut up.”

“I’m just saying, I hadn’t noticed.”

She flicked him in the chest.

He burst out laughing, and she bathed in the warmth of the sound. “Go on,” he managed eventually. “Tell me the rest.”

“Ah. Yes. Well. I realized I wasn’t as naturally emotive as other people. I knew I could be hyperfocused on my work, that I could be blunt and unsentimental. But I wanted to be a good girlfriend,” she said, wrinkling her nose at the memory. She’d been so young and so ridiculous, thinking she could fake certain qualities to make someone else happy. Thinking that she should. She’d never make that mistake again.

Won’t you?

She cleared her throat. “In the end, it didn’t matter. We were together for four years before I caught him fucking someone else. I mean, he was literally fucking someone else when I walked into the room. He didn’t know I was coming home. I was trying to surprise him. Because, you know. Romance.”

Zaf growled. As in, that noise predatory animals make right before they eat someone. His expression was just as ferocious, too. “What an arsehole.”

“Mmm,” Dani nodded. “That’s what I said. But then he told me that he’d been forced to begin an affair because I was so dull and inattentive and ice cold—that’s a direct quote, I suppose he was feeling poetic. Apparently, being with me left him lonely.”

The hand on her hip tightened for a moment before relaxing finger by finger, as if by force. Zaf’s jaw was hard as he gritted out, “What?”

“Mm-hmm.” Dani attempted a smile. It wasn’t her best. “The thing is, I’d been trying so hard—and I’d been so blissfully oblivious, certain I was getting it right—and the whole time, I was failing.”