Chapter 23 Sloane #2
An apology from Chris might go a long way toward healing the hurt I know Mal still carries with her.
Years ago, when we were drowning our sorrows in wine and rom-coms at my house, she told me she still loved him, which means some part of her, buried deep under all of that resentment, might be open to hearing Chris out.
But the likelihood of me sticking my neck out for a virtual stranger is slim as hell, especially when I know I’m only one slipup away from blowing my entire relationship with her to smithereens.
I close the space between us with two short steps, wrap my hands around his waist, and lay my head on his chest. Dominic stills then sighs and hugs me back.
Everything is quiet around us, but I can’t shake the feeling that something has fractured between us because of my words.
And I’m desperate to fix it, to get us back to the playful moment we were having before.
His heart pounds underneath my ear as I search my brain for something to say or do to bring back the smile he had on his face just a few minutes ago.
It takes me a second, but I finally remember the spark of amusement and satisfaction gleaming in his eyes when he teased me about calling him Dom at our first dinner.
Inspiration strikes, and I lift my head.
Batting my eyelashes and flashing him my biggest smile as I run my hands down his chest.
“Dom…” I say sweetly, loving the way his pupils dilate when he realizes the other two syllables of his name aren’t leaving my lips. “All I’m saying is I think we should leave the Mal and Chris situation alone for now. He fucked up, and he should be the one to fix it. Not us.”
The heat of his body bleeds into me, and his spice and citrus scent mixes with the clean sweat coating his skin and floods my nostrils.
Taking me back to this morning when I woke up cradled in his arms with my face burrowed in his neck.
The panty-dropping smile he gave me then is identical to the one he’s giving me now.
“Resorting to playing dirty, huh?”
I shrug. “A girl’s got to use every weapon in her arsenal.”
His thumbs rub tiny circles on the small of my back, and I shiver under his touch.
The way I always do when his fingers—which I know are capable of bringing me pleasure laced with the finest thread of pain—are so gentle with me.
It feels like being cared for, like being worshipped and revered, like being… loved.
Chill, Sloane. That’s not what this is.
“Your arsenal is impressive, but I don’t think it’s fair for you to pull out the big guns to talk me out of doing a favor for a friend.”
“Since when are nicknames considered the big guns?”
I really am curious, because I don’t know why it means so much to him for me to call him anything other than his given name.
He hates when people call him Dominic, babe.
Eric’s warning from years ago rings in my head, and I don’t know how to feel about using advice from my husband to navigate a relationship with his best friend.
“Since you’re the only person in my life who’s refused to give me one.” His voice is a low murmur. “Now that you have though, and on purpose no less, don’t think I’m letting you take it back.”
My hands are busy now. Running over his chest, up his shoulders, and down the bulges in his biceps. He’s so big—all muscle and masculine hardness that presses into my soft curves and makes me feel small and feminine in the best way.
“Fine,” I concede, pretending for my own sake that I had a choice in the matter. “As long as you agree to shut down this dinner with Chris. It’s a bad idea, and Mal will kill both of us for helping him ambush her, especially since we’ve been neglecting her lately.”
A fact I feel bad about. Mal and I usually spend a few nights out of the week together, but I’ve only seen her for a few hours at work for the past few weeks. She hasn’t complained or made any smart remarks—which still has me shocked—but I miss her and I’m sure she’s missing me. And Dominic.
Dom, I remind myself. You’re supposed to be calling him Dom now.
Surprisingly, the nickname doesn’t feel odd on my tongue.
Like somewhere deep down, my mind knows this is right.
The intimacy. The friendship. The warmth.
All of the things I never dreamed of having with him, or anyone after Eric, wrapped up in three little letters.
He doesn’t look completely convinced, but he still nods. “Okay. I’ll text Chris and tell him dinner is a no-go.”
“And I’ll call Mal and invite her out for dinner.” I stand on my tiptoes and offer him my lips for a kiss, which he gives me. “With me and you.”
“Okay.” He heaves an exaggerated sigh. “I guess that works for me.”
I pinch his bicep, and he doesn’t even flinch. “Don’t make it sound like a hardship. You said you wanted to take me out to dinner, and having Mal there was also a part of your plan.”
“Yes, but that was when I thought Chris would be there to distract her.” His eyes shine with warmth. “That way I could stare at you from across the dinner table without anyone noticing.”
I blush. “You can stare at me tonight in bed.”
“When you’re drooling on my chest? I hate to break it to you, but it’s not the most flattering view, angel.” He laughs at his insult and holds me closer to him when I try to push him away.
My mouth drops open and a startled laugh falls out. “Shut up!”
Dom’s answering smile is huge and playful, sending warmth radiating through me like sunlight.
I want to stand here all day and bask in its glow, to let it soak into me and banish all of the worry and doubts—about what happens when this is all over and how I’m going to live without moments like these—that are hiding in the darkest parts of my mind.
***
“God! I needed this!”
Mal grabs my hand from across the table, and the huge smile stretching her face makes me glad I talked Dom out of his plan to help Chris.
She looks beautiful today, rocking a sassy black wig with loose curls and textured bangs that pair perfectly with her understated makeup and enhance her glowing amber eyes.
I squeeze her hand back and smile. “Me too.”
It’s not a lie. Even though I’ve loved spending so much time with Dom, I’ve missed Mal.
Not being able to spend time with her is probably one of the major drawbacks of my current relationship.
Missing out on little moments like this—meeting up at our favorite sushi spot and laughing over drinks until our sides hurt—has left a Mal-shaped hole in my heart.
But I would rather go a few weeks without seeing her regularly than lose her from my life forever, and that’s exactly what will happen if…
Stop worrying. Everything is going to be okay.
Pushing my guilt aside, I force myself to tune back into the conversation.
Mal’s hands are flailing around in the air as she fills me in on the latest happenings, since I’ve been working from home or La Grande Nuit for the past few weeks to avoid lying to her about how I’ve been spending my evenings.
With Dom’s face buried between my thighs.
With my lips wrapped around his dick. With his cum in my hair, on my breasts, and down my throat.
Honestly, I didn’t know it was possible to have so many orgasms without actually having sex.
Focus, Sloane!
“Yeah, I think we’re going to have to let her go,” Mal says, picking up her glass and giving me an expectant look over the rim.
I clear my throat and take a sip of my drink to buy myself some time to think up a response and hide the fact that I was only half listening.
The last name she mentioned was Jeanie, the new office assistant we had to hire when our regular girl went on maternity leave.
Mal and I were both excited about Jeanie at first. Her references were stellar, and she had a great attitude.
But lately, she’s been dropping the ball: failing to put consultations on the office calendar, allowing clients to walk in and ambush team members with new requests instead of going through the proper channels, leaving the reception desk unattended while she takes sporadic breaks.
Unless I missed something huge with one of our other team members, Jeanie is the only employee we have that’s walking on thin ice.
But what did she do this week that’s got Mal all bent out of shape?
I set my glass down on the table. “Okay, walk me through the situation again. I want to be sure I have all the details.”
Mal plops her drink down and leans forward.
“This girl told her cousin she would make sure we designed her new kitchen for half of our rate. She came in my office talking about how her employee discount should extend to her family members, and she had already sent the quote to her cousin and was in the middle of drafting one for her aunt when I told her we absolutely would not cut our rate in half for her family members. I swear to God, if you would have been there, you would have lost it.”
I have to remind myself not to act surprised, because technically this is my second time hearing this information, but even if I was listening to Mal tell this story the first time around, my reaction would have been the same.
“Mal,” I wheeze, trying to hold back the obnoxious laughter bubbling in my chest. “Please tell me she didn’t really say employee discounts should apply to family.”
She tries to keep a straight face, but it only takes a second for the dam to break.
In a matter of moments, we’re both doubled over the table howling with laughter at the ridiculousness of the situation.
Neither of us is forming intelligible words as we try to talk through the fit of giggles and snorts.
When we finally settle down, we both have tear-streaked faces and sore cheeks from laughing so hard.
“Oh my God. I can’t believe I missed that. What in the world was she thinking?”