Chapter 22 Sloane
Sloane
Now
The engine of Dominic’s car purrs quietly as I scroll through social media on my phone in hopes of distracting the giddy butterflies swirling around in my stomach.
The thought of having him in my bed again has my thighs clenching in anticipation and my heart beating triple time.
I’m eager to get him home, but it’s been over half an hour since he went inside his building, and he still hasn’t come back down or responded to my text.
Worry tries to burrow its way into my chest, but I quickly dismiss it.
No way is Dominic up there trying to find a way to tell me this is over.
He’s made it very clear that he doesn’t regret this relationship, no matter how short-lived and ill-advised it may be, so whatever is keeping him probably doesn’t have anything to do with us.
Closing out my social media, I open up my work email and respond to a few messages from clients who have been working primarily with my senior designer, Sasha.
I’ve just sent her a private email telling her how awesome she’s doing when a tingle of awareness prickles across my skin.
At first, I think it must be Dominic, but it’s nothing like the zip of electricity I feel when he’s near.
This is something creepier, like someone with less-than-good intentions is watching me.
My head snaps up, scanning the front of Dominic’s building for any sketchy guys looking a little too hard at the idling car, but there’s no one out there except for a lone woman with bouncing curls in a dark trench coat marching toward the other side of the building where guests park.
“Relax, Sloane,” I mutter to myself.
The door to Dominic’s building swings open, and I smile like a fool when I finally see him emerge carrying a duffel bag as big as me in his hand.
He wasn’t playing about spending every night together.
But then I meet his eyes and my heart sinks.
They’re dark and serious, and all of the playfulness he’s had most of the evening is gone.
I wonder if it has something to do with whatever kept him in his place for so long.
He tosses his bag in the back seat then hops up front with me. I stare at him, examining every inch of his body for a clue to the sudden shift in his demeanor. My eyes linger on the Band-Aid affixed to the palm of his left hand. I stare pointedly at it, and Dominic shifts it from my view.
That’s not suspicious at all.
“What happened to you?”
“Put on your seat belt, angel,” he orders quietly.
Despite my current irritation at him evading my simple question, the demand still makes a wave of liquid heat pool in my core. Ignoring his order, and my own ridiculous response to it, I get on my knees and reach for his injured hand from across the console.
“How’d you cut yourself packing an overnight bag?”
“Put your seat belt on, and I’ll tell you.”
I roll my eyes. “Tell me and I’ll put my seat belt on.”
Dominic releases a frustrated growl, pushing me back into my seat and pulling my seat belt across my body as soon my ass hits the leather. I reach for his hand again, but he manages to secure the belt before I can get a good grip on him.
“Stubborn woman.”
A sarcastic snort rips from my throat. “Well, if it isn’t the pot calling the kettle black.”
He shakes his head and backs out of the parking spot. Surprisingly, my gaze stays glued to his face as he maneuvers us back onto the main road and heads toward my house.
“You sound like Mama.”
“And you sound like a man who’s avoiding a simple question.”
He sighs, looking over at me with soft, but serious, eyes. “I cut my hand.”
“Yes.” I nod knowingly. “The Band-Aid kind of gave it away. What I want to know is how you cut your hand and why you’re acting like its classified information.”
Three heartbeats pass, and I watch Dominic turn the truth over in his mind. Once. Twice. Three times before I see him decide to lie to me. I watch his lips part, disbelief twisting my stomach.
I hold up my hand. “Don’t lie to me, not about something as simple as this.”
The curt, dry look he gives me is meant to scare me off, to make me back down from whatever storm of emotions I’ve stumbled upon that he doesn’t want me to see.
Except I do see them. Etched into the ridge of his brow and swimming in his eyes.
Something is wrong, and either he doesn’t trust me enough to talk about it or the something wrong is…
Don’t even go there! You know what he wants. He’s told you that he wants this. How’d you go from a cut hand to him rethinking this entire arrangement?
But doubt is digging its way into the crack in my chest created by Dominic’s silence, wrapping around my lungs like a vise and squeezing hard.
Stealing the breath from my lungs and forcing me to admit to myself just how badly I want this relationship, how badly I want this man who holds more than the key to my desire in his hands.
Don’t do it, the voice in my head warns, but it’s too late. I’m already jumping headfirst into a pool of outlandish conclusions.
“Are you having second thoughts about us?” I swallow past the lump in my throat.
“It’s okay if you are. I mean, this is hard for me, but I don’t have a clue what it’s like for you.
” Dominic’s gaze snaps to mine, brow furrowed in confusion.
“Being with me,” I clarify. “I don’t know what being with me is like for you.
You said you don’t feel guilty, but I know how much you loved Eric, and you have to feel something about doing this with me.
” His frown deepens, but now that I’ve started, I can’t stop myself from purging my emotions all over his car.
“It’s okay if that something is regret, Dominic.
I mean, I was hoping maybe the moments we’d have together would be worth whatever it costs you emotionally to help me, but if you don’t think it is, you can tell me. ”
Oh God. Someone kill me now.
Dominic curses under his breath, reaching over to grab my hand. I thread my fingers through his and try not to think about the way my heart rate evens out as soon as he’s touching me.
“I could never regret you, angel.” He pulls our linked hands up to his mouth, pressing a kiss to my fingers.
“Even when you break my heart by saying shit like you hope you’re worth whatever this is costing me emotionally.
Let’s be clear, whatever the price is for being with you, I’ll happily pay it.
I’ll give up my soul for a moment of your time.
I’ll sell everything I own for a night in your bed.
There’s no sacrifice I wouldn’t make to hear you laugh, make you smile, or shield you from pain. ”
Everything inside of me goes still as Dominic’s unexpectedly sweet words wash over me, soothing almost every part of worry and doubt niggling at me within a matter of moments.
Almost. There’s still the part of me that can’t make sense of his evasive maneuvers when it came to answering the simple question that planted the seed in the first place.
I trace my finger over the veins in his arm from his wrist to the inside of his elbow and back again.
“I have another rule, Dominic.”
He gives a long, heaving sigh like he knows what’s coming. “What is it?”
“No lies. If we’re going to do this, we have to be honest with each other about everything.”
The signal light clicks as we turn onto my road. Dominic’s eyes flick between me and the street as we coast toward the house. “Are you suggesting I’m not being honest with you about something?”
I roll my eyes so hard they nearly fall out of my head, and warm amusement lights the corners of Dominic’s eyes for a moment before being chased away by something darker. He pulls into my driveway and comes to a stop behind my car, letting the engine run.
I release my seat belt and nod toward his hand. “Tell me what’s up with your hand, and please don’t say you just cut it, because that much is clear.”
Dominic scrubs a hand over his face before turning to look at me, and I just know I’m going to hate whatever is about to come out of his mouth.
“I wanted to wait until I got you home, so I could tell you this. Honestly, I didn’t even know if I should’ve packed a bag, because you might want some space from me tonight. ”
I frown. “Why would I want space from you tonight?” Or any night?
He rolls his head from one side to the other then grimaces as if his attempt to relieve the tension in his neck didn’t work at all. “When I got to my place, Kristen was there.”
As soon as her name hits the air, I want to burst out laughing. Kristen’s behavior has raised every one of my red flags, but Dominic has been acting like it’s not a big deal. Maybe whatever happened with them upstairs will be enough to change his mind. I cross my arms and nod for him to continue.
I’ll let him finish explaining before I say “I told you so.”
“When we were dating, I gave her a key. She never got around to returning it after we broke up, and I forgot she had it because she always used the doorbell when she would come over for—” The muscle in his jaw starts to jump, and I remind myself to breathe, because hearing him even hint at their time together makes my stomach churn. “Anyway, she was in my bed. Naked.”
My vision blurs, red creeping in from the corners until it tints everything.
I press my lips together to keep the less than polite words crowding on my tongue from escaping and wait for him to continue.
Internally though, I’m screaming. This woman is relentless.
First, she interrupts our dinner, then she caps off the night by propositioning my—Dominic?
He clears his throat, clearly put off by my silence. Maybe he can sense the storm gathering inside me. I’m not looking at him, but I can feel his gaze, hot and heavy, on my face. “Nothing happened, Sloane. I gave her some clothes and told her to leave. She threw my key at me and stormed out.”
I wrinkle my nose. “And your hand?”