38. Dominic
CHAPTER 38
Dominic
WORSEN THE STATE OF MY DICK
PRESENT
L eaving Ellie’s bed was torture.
I knew she needed space—to process everything that happened, both at the bar and between us—and I figured waking up next to me wouldn’t exactly help.
I’m not even sure I actually slept. I just lay there, perfectly still, holding her as if the smallest movement might make her disappear.
Something in me shifted the moment I saw another man’s hands on her. Not just because they belonged to that pencil-dick prick—though that didn’t help—but because I realized I never wanted to witness that again. Not now, not ever.
This time, it was unwanted. Uninvited. But what if one day, she wanted someone else’s touch—and I had to stand there and let it happen?
So, while she slept, I let myself hold her, silently begging to any higher power listening that it wouldn’t be the last time I’d get to.
She’s sleeps just as I remember; making the softest moaning noises that did nothing but worsen the state of my dick.
Once morning came, she was embarrassed, but in an adorable way. I could hear her pacing back and forth, likely having an internal debate about facing me.
When she came downstairs, I tried to play it cool—when really, all I wanted was to pull her into my arms and kiss her until she couldn’t take it anymore and dragged me back to her bed.
Unfortunately, I know she’s not there yet.
I wanted to spend the day with her. Instead, I had an on-duty deputy patrol her while I gave her space. She needs to think about what happened between us. Drunk or not, clearly she still feels something for me, even if it’s only physical. At this point, I’ll take her any way I can have her. I’ll be her damn boy toy if that’s what it takes.
We crossed paths as I was leaving for work, and she looked almost disappointed to see me go. She gave me a small, unsure smile—so unlike her I almost called in, hating being unable to decipher her thoughts.
Now I’m at the station and can hardly focus. Unlike day shift, it’s eerily quiet on nights.
It doesn’t help that Morales is on shift with me, and acting stranger than usual. Shehasn’t said a word to me all night. Instead, she’s been glued to her screen, laser-focused, and for once, not trying to get my attention. I guess she finally got the message that I’m not interested.
Still, somehow, I’m the one who feels like the asshole.
As I search my email for the surveillance footage I’ve been waiting on, my phone dings and I scramble for it, immediately thinking it’s Ellie.
It’s not.
It’s a picture of a sonogram.
And it’s from Adrian.
ADRIAN
Got some exciting news today…
Is that what I think it is?
ADRIAN
Baby Alvarez coming in February
You’re gonna be an UNCLE
I swore I’d never be the kind of person who can’t be happy for others, but I can’t help feeling envious. Just last year, Adrian was sleeping his way through dating apps and swearing he’d never settle down—now he’s married with a baby on the way. It’s hard not to get whiplash.
Congratulations! Happy for you guys.
ADRIAN
We told Mom earlier and that’s all it took to convince her to move up here.
The relief I feel knowing my mom is moving closer is overshadowed by the tight pressure building in my chest—the ugly head of jealousy starting to rear. And it makes me feel like the worst kind of person.
We go back and forth for a while, but once I tell him I’m on shift, the conversation winds down, and we call it a night.
My workload has doubled in size the past couple weeks.
Ever since my temporary assignment under Vorheis began, I’ve been consumed by the Delmar case. On top of that, I’ve been quietly working my own investigation into Ellie’s situation. Technically, I was pulled from the case for being too close to it—but I can’t help myself.
What makes it worse is that whoever’s behind it has gone completely silent. Her car turned up with zero evidence, and the note, the picture, and the flower haven’t led us anywhere.
If Ryker were around, I’d bounce some ideas off him—but he’s been on leave all week. His wife’s pregnancy took a turn that landed her in the hospital, and he didn’t hesitate to step back from work.
The station’s felt off ever since.
“Alvarez,” Vorheis calls from his office.
I push up from my chair and head his way. “Yeah, Sarge?”
He’s holding a case file, flipping it open as I step in. “Patrol got called to a convenience store robbery just outside city limits—technically our turf, but RMPD responded first.”
I nod slowly. “So, you want me to play jurisdiction tug-of-war?”
“Get eyes on the scene so we can figure out who the lead is.Keep it clean. If it’s ours, we take it. If not, don’t waste time getting territorial.You think you can handle it?”
The last time I responded to a call at a convenience store, I got shot.
I swallow against the anxiety lodged in my throat. “Yeah, I can handle it.”