Page 99 of Big Dick Energy

“Brooke called.”

He went still. “Ah.”

“She saw the podcast.”

“I figured she would eventually.”

“She's not mad. Well, she's a little mad. Mostly she's…” I pulled back to read his face. “She said the way you looked at me wasn't fake.”

“That's because it wasn't.”

Before I could respond, Ricky launched himself at my ankles with all eight pounds of his conviction.

“Yes, hello, I see you.” I scooped him up. He vibrated so hard he nearly wiggled out of my arms, his entire backend wagging. “Did you miss me? Were there threats? Did you defend the homestead?”

He licked my chin, which I took as confirmation of at least seven vanquished postal workers.

“He barked at a leaf for twenty minutes,” Dallas smirked. “Very heroic.”

“The leaves are very aggressive this time of year.”

I looked past him into the house. Stopped. The living room had transformed. The coffee table was gone, replaced by cushions and throws arranged in front of the fireplace. Flames danced behind the glass, casting warm light across an elaborate spread, wooden platters covered in sushi rolls, sashimi, and edamame. Candles scattered the space like fallen stars.

“You...” The sentence wouldn't finish.

“I wanted you to myself tonight. So I ordered from that place you like. The one with the spicy tuna that makes you make sounds.” He said this casually, like he hadn't just staged an entire romantic evening while I'd been arguing with Marcus about velvet.

“You made a floor picnic. With candles.”

“Is that a problem?”

“It's...” I set Ricky down. He waddled toward the cushion pile like he owned it. “No one's ever done anything like this for me.”

Dallas's expression shifted, tenderness replacing the smugness. “Then everyone you've dated was an idiot.”

“Present company excluded?”

“Present company is trying hard to prove otherwise.” He took my bag and set it aside. “I did almost set the curtains on fire, lighting the candles, so results pending.”

I laughed and let him lead me to the cushion nest. The arrangement was surprisingly comfortable, and when I settled onto the largest pillow, I found myself at the perfect height to watch firelight play across his ridiculous cheekbones.

Life remained deeply unfair.

“So.” He folded himself onto the cushion across from me. “Brooke knows.”

“Brooke knows.”

“Matt called me too. Four hours ago. His first words were finally.”

“Finally?”

“Apparently, he's had a theory about us since the engagement party.” Dallas reached for a sake bottle and poured two cups. “He said something about there being unresolved tension and obvious attraction, and he couldn’t count the number of times he thought oh, for the love of God, just kiss her already.”

“He said that?” I sipped sake, let the warmth spread through me. “That’s ridiculous.”

He picked up a spicy tuna roll and held it to my lips. The gesture was unexpectedly intimate. “Matt claims I've been obviously in love with you since the moment we met.”

I froze. “That's also ridiculous.”