Chapter 16 #2
I wasn’t going to risk trying to sneak someone in to fix this for me, but I could have them guide me through it virtually.
It was coming down a lot harder now, and the temperature seemed to be dropping another degree for every minute that swept by. I was soaked, shivering, and my hands were already itching from the incoming blisters.
“Alice.”
I ignored both him and the fact that he had to shout my name over the hiss of pouring rain. My shower didn’t have this much water pressure. Why the hell was he still out here?
“Alice!”
“Go inside!” I shouted back.
“Come with me!”
“No! I need to— Hey!” I glared up at him when the shovel was ripped out of my hand. He was dripping wet, the heat of his breath forming little puffs of irritation above me.
“Whatever you’re trying to achieve with your little performance can wait until tomorrow morning,” he said through the rumbles of thunder. “We’re going inside.”
My mouth fell. “Whatever I’m trying to achieve with my little performance?”
He grabbed my arm without missing a beat, tugging me back toward the house. And he’d have been a lot more successful in getting me there had he not royally pissed me the fuck off with his comment.
My heels dug into the mud, and I ripped my arm out of his grip.
He whipped around, eyes burning. “Are you fucking— Alice!”
I made it halfway back to the garden before he caught up and blocked my path.
“Move!” I shouted.
“I said it can wait.”
No, it couldn’t.
I’d be seeing her in less than three weeks, and unless Dominic was willing to cut my hours back significantly, the one thing it could not do was wait.
Lightning split the sky, followed by a crash so explosive I inadvertently ducked, covering my head. Dominic, ever the opportunist, swooped right in while my eyes were squeezed shut and threw me over his shoulder.
“Dominic!” I shouted, bracing my hands on his upper arms, trying to push myself off. His flexed bicep dug into my thigh as his grip on me tightened. He charged us inside, slamming the door shut before he finally put me down.
The second my feet hit the floor, I was sliding past him and reaching for the doorknob.
“Alice—Alice.” He grabbed my arms and pulled me back. “Relax for a second.”
I wasn’t planning on it, but then he made me turn around and look at him, and every bit of my defiance melted into confusion. He was soaked head to toe, his white shirt now entirely see-through, his dark hair curled into wet, glossy tendrils.
But that wasn’t what made me pause.
My lips parted as I tried to figure out where the pink, blooming stains over his shoulders had come from. “Holy shit, are you bleeding?”
How? And why all of a sudden?
His forehead pinched as he followed my gaze.
“What the fuck did you do to yourself?” I semi-yelled, my voice pitched far too high. “Let me s—” He snatched my wrist from the air and flipped my hand over.
Oh.
Never mind.
I let out a relieved breath, tempted to laugh. I’d have apologized if it were anyone else, but there was no need in this instance. He could just get a new shirt.
“Any chance you have a spare pair of gardening gloves?” I said instead, making a mental note to ask Amber to pick up a pair for me tomorrow.
Dominic continued to stare down at my hand like it was in the active process of sprouting a sixth finger, a cloud of tension gathering around him. I tried to wiggle free, but his grip wouldn’t let up.
“What…” he started, bright red color climbing up his neck.
“It’s nothing,” I insisted, again trying to free my hand, and again failing. It wasn’t even that bad—just a few cuts from gathering dead branches. It wasn’t exactly easy to identify and avoid rosebushes and their thorns in the dark.
I curled my fingers into my palm, stripping him of the view. My neck was growing strangely warm, and the need to cover his eyes was making me restless. “Can you let me go, please?”
He reached for my other hand, wincing when he turned it for inspection.
Admittedly, this one looked pretty bad. There was quite a bit of blood mixed with the dirt, and the cuts ran deeper than I’d have expected, considering how little they hurt.
Dominic’s jaw tightened, his molars grinding as he cut me a sharp glare. “Since when do you care about fixing shit you broke?”
I gave him a sarcastic smile. He knew I’d figured out who the garden belonged to; the part he seemed confused about was why it made a difference. “I don’t. It’s all part of my grand performance. I’m trying to make you think I care so you’ll let your guard down.”
His expression remained deadly, his narrowed eyes sliding between mine.
“Oh, and the cuts were to gather sympathy,” I continued. “So was going out there in the middle of a storm at midnight. All precalculated.”
The tightness in his expression started to ebb, replaced with something I couldn’t quite put my finger on. Without a word, he let go of my left wrist, softened his grip on my right, and started dragging me deeper into the house.
I tsked. “I really didn’t think you’d be so easy to manipulate this far into the game, Dom. It’s kind of disappointing.”
We were dripping everywhere, soiling the pristine tiles with our muddy shoes as he led me into the kitchen. He positioned me in front of the sink, turning on the taps and checking the temperature before finally releasing his hold on my wrist. Then he disappeared.
I flinched at the initial sting of cool water hitting the cuts, gently rinsing off the visible dirt and blood before reaching for the soap.
“Can I borrow a charger? I need to call a cab,” I said as soon as he was back.
He tossed a small leather case onto the counter, then held out a fresh hand towel.
“Thanks,” I muttered, my mouth twitching at the intensity of his brooding glower. I dabbed my hands dry, trying not to laugh. “I’m starting to think I should’ve just worn the collar. If you’re this pissy about a few minor cuts on my hands…”
He ignored the jab, too focused on retrieving a thin white tube from the case and exchanging it for my dirty towel.
I sucked on my cheek, unscrewing the ointment. “This isn’t how you’re supposed to act toward someone you hate, Dominic,” I tried. “Just FYI. It’s making you seem a hell of a lot softer than you are, and pretty damn susceptible to manipulation.”
Still no bite, which was odd.
I carefully applied the ointment, increasingly aware of the blasting AC. My clothes were soaking wet and sticking to my skin, and the rush of freezing air was making it ten times worse. “There, happy? Can I charge my phone now?”
Evidently not, given that he reached inside the case again and retrieved a roll of gauze.
“No,” I deadpanned. I didn’t need them. The cuts were annoying, sure, but they weren’t that bad.
“They’re going to get infected,” Dominic argued, regaining his voice.
I shrugged. “So? Why do you care?”
He was silent again. Brooding and annoyed like this wasn’t exactly what he should’ve wanted. I raised an eyebrow, stepping closer. “Seriously, why do you care? I thought the whole point of bringing me here was to watch me suffer.”
He averted his gaze. “I’ll play you for it. You still need Thursday night off, right?”
“Answer the question. Why are you rescuing me from the storm instead of… I don’t know, shoving me outside with a lawnmower?”
He hesitated, clearly searching for an answer. “It’s past midnight” was what he eventually settled on.
My eyes narrowed. I contemplated pushing, but I was starting to shiver, and the feel of cold, wet denim sticking to my thighs was becoming borderline unbearable. “What game?” I asked instead.
He shrugged. “We’ve already done Exponential Truth, so how about Devil’s Dare?”
A nervous flutter trickled through my chest at the suggestion, my mouth instinctively forming the word no.
“Higher level of intensity,” he argued before I could actually say it. “There’s no ability to lie or chicken out. We’d be done in fifteen minutes, if not less.”
Yes, sure, but there was also a reason we’d never actually played it. We’d had no business coming up with anything remotely that intense in the first place. Not as eighteen-year-old kids.
Then again, that’s kind of what we used to do.
Invent games, test them out, give them names so that when we graduated and started our gaming company, we could…
well, it didn’t matter now. The point was, the thought of playing Devil’s Dare with him made my chest expand and squirm, like I was about to bungee jump off a cliff.
Which meant he was right, we’d be done in fifteen minutes or less.
I crossed my arms, eyeing him. “Any boundaries you want to set first?”
We’d never gotten far enough into the planning process to establish any hard limits, and I wasn’t going into this one without at least discussing it.
He slipped his hands into his front pockets. “Nothing involving other people. No crimes. No blood. And nothing public. What about you?”
“I need to change into something dry first. Otherwise, I won’t be able to focus,” I said. “Other than that… Nothing that requires either of us to leave the property. Nothing involving weapons, animals, or anything that would put either player in any sort of physical danger.”
Our gazes locked for a beat, the air around us shifting. “That’s it?” he asked. “You sure?”
Heat crept up my neck, spilling across my cheeks. “Yup. You?”
It’s not like the stakes were that high. If I lost, I’d have to wrap my hands. If he lost, he’d have to give me a night off. There was no real reason for either of us to push further than we were comfortable.
Other than, you know, our hypercompetitive tendencies, a pesky little thing called pride, and the fact that we’d both rather have our teeth pulled than forfeit a game.
He nodded once. “Yup.”
“Great,” I said, my heart sprinting up my chest.
“Great,” he said, hands slipping out of his pockets. Then back in.
For once, we were in agreement.
This was a great decision we’d just come to.
Everything was going to turn out just great.