12. Ryan
Ryan
I was halfway through doing the dishes that wouldn’t fit in the dishwasher when a plate was snatched from my hands.
I jerked in surprise, lifting my head to see Dominic at my side. “What are you doing?”
He cocked a dark eyebrow, his lips twitching. “Well, I was going to dry as you washed, but I can break out a magic trick instead if you like.”
I scowled as I turned back to the water. “Funny.”
“Your mum thinks so.”
My lips twitched at that. Traitors. “You can’t use ‘your mum’ jokes when you actually know our mum.”
“I can. Makes it funnier.”
“She’ll stop feeding you if she hears.”
“Nah, she loves me too much.” That was true. There was no question that she considered Dominic her third child. Did that make what had passed between us weird?
Weirder than the fact that you’re both supposedly straight, you mean?
“Besides, you cook for me more often than she does.”
My guard snapped up. “Nobody’s forcing you to eat it.”
Dominic rolled his eyes. “Simmer down, Shadow. That wasn’t a criticism. I’m…grateful.”
My nose scrunched. “Why would you be grateful? I’m not an idiot. My food is edible but that’s about it.”
“Yeah, well…when it’s that or nothing, you learn to be grateful for it.”
Distantly, I could hear soapy water hitting the floor, but I paid it no heed. “What?”
He shrugged again, giving the pan he was drying far more attention than it required. “Nothing.”
It didn’t sound like nothing. I searched for the right thing to say. “Like…your dad doesn’t cook for you? Do you need me to give you some lessons?”
He snorted. “Fuck no. I’m not incapable. Just forget it.”
“No.” I stepped closer to him. “I don’t think I can.”
Dominic frowned down. “You’re dripping on me.”
“Don’t care.” I didn’t. I could barely hear past the buzzing in my ears. “What did you mean, Dom?”
He sighed dramatically. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”
“Nope.”
“Fine.” He snatched up another plate, scrubbing at it forcefully. “Sometimes there’s no food in. I do what I can with my wages from the chippy, but…”
My stomach flipped. “That’s why you eat here so often.”
He flushed. “I mean, it’s a benefit, but it’s mainly because of Max.”
Of course it was. I took a step back, plunging my hands back into the hot water.
We stood in silence, me washing, him drying.
When we were done, I watched the water swirl as it disappeared down the drain. It was an apt metaphor for how I’d been feeling these past few weeks. All spun up and sinking. “There’ll always be a meal here for you, Dominic. You don’t need to explain or ask. I’ll always make enough for you.”
His hand rose, hovering near my shoulder. “Ry, I?—”
The back door slammed open and Max strode in. “Dominic, you’re here. Good. Wanna game?”
“Sure.” Dominic’s hand dropped as he turned his back on me. “I was waiting for you to get back.”
Just like that, he disappeared from the room. The moment between us may as well have never happened. Hell, I may as well not have existed for all the attention Dom gave me before leaving.
Why was I surprised that Dominic was ditching me as soon as Max appeared? Of course he was just killing time until the person he really wanted to be around showed up. I was nothing more than a distraction.
It shouldn’t have hurt. This was how it had always been with the two of them. Unless there was a girl in the picture, they didn’t give a shit about anyone else.
Well, I wasn’t a girl.
And Dominic didn’t give a shit about me.
It shouldn’t have hurt.
It shouldn’t.
I wished it didn’t.
Scowling at the page, I ripped it from the pad before balling it up. It joined the pile already surrounding the bin in the corner of my bedroom. It wasn’t my aim that was the problem, but the fact that my bin was so full there wasn’t space for the shit I was producing.
I chewed on the inside of my cheek as I glared down at yet another empty page. Nothing was working tonight. I just couldn’t get into the groove. The relaxation it usually gave me was just…missing.
What the fuck was wrong with me?
Like a universally ironic reminder, catcalls echoed through the thin wall I shared with Max.
Right. That was why.
I hadn’t heard from Dominic since he’d vanished after Max. Not that it felt that way with how fucking loud they’d been. I might as well have been gaming with them given the noise they made.
But I wasn’t. I wasn’t invited.
I never was.
Another catcall. My pencil tore through the paper, making me grind my teeth together. I should give up, but this was the final piece required for my A level art portfolio. The subject had to reflect something I cared about. Sounded easy, right?
That’s what I thought too.
I’d tried so many different things. A paintbrush. The rowan tree that stood at the end of our garden. A lark that liked to sit on my windowsill sometimes. The Caffeine Daydreams’ logo.
Nothing was working.
I tapped my pencil rhythmically against yet another page. Maybe I was approaching this wrong. What if I did a portrait instead? I could ask Mum to sit for it. She’d probably be thrilled.
Then again, if I couldn’t make that work, I’d be fucked. It wasn’t like I could ask her to sit for me and then not submit it.
Max’s door opened and closed. I braced myself, waiting for Dominic to knock on my door. Or, knowing him, just walk in.
But his footsteps moved swiftly past and downstairs. Seconds later, I heard the front door bang shut.
I stared down at the blank page. Why did I feel so…hollow? I didn’t want to see Dominic. Of course I didn’t.
So why was I disappointed?
Get over yourself, Ryan, I told myself firmly. You’re being ridiculous. Stop giving Dominic headspace he doesn’t deserve.
Maybe I could do that if I could stop remembering the flush on his cheekbones as he confessed about not having food at home. He’d been so fucking vulnerable.
Just to ditch you as soon as Max appeared.
I picked up the pencil again, shaking my head. My inner voice was right. Dominic was fucking with my brain and I needed to stop letting him.
The lead had barely touched the paper when someone rapped lightly on my window. I jumped so hard my chair almost toppled backwards.
Cursing, I lifted my head to see Dominic smirking at me through the glass.
“Dramatic, much?”
I marched over to glare at him. “Says the guy who’s knocking on my window like a fucking stalker.”
“If I was a stalker, I wouldn’t be announcing myself.” Thanks to the cheap windows, we had no issue hearing each other. “Gonna let me in?”
I seriously debated it. My fingers even twitched as I considered just shutting the curtains on him. That’d teach him.
But when I raised my hands, they didn’t go to the fabric.
They went to the latch, lifting it up and pushing the window open so Dominic could slip inside.
He could open it from the outside anyway , I reasoned with myself. He’s coming in regardless.
Sure. That was why I opened it. Let’s go with that.
I went back to my desk, turning my attention back to my project. At least, that was what I tried to do. “You realise you walked past my door not thirty seconds ago?”
Dominic was wandering around my room, taking in the various posters and framed art pieces. “Coming in the window is our tradition now.”
I rolled my eyes. “It’s a tradition that’s gonna cave the porch roof in one day and send your arse straight to the concrete below, but whatever.”
“I’ll land on my feet. I always do.”
I grunted. “Surprised you’re even here given Max is home.”
“He’s got his headphones on.” Dominic dropped onto the end of my bed and leaned back on his elbows. “He can’t hear us.”
It hadn’t escaped me that he’d been keeping his voice low. So had I, but that was because I couldn’t be bothered dealing with another Max hissy fit.
I suspected Dominic had different reasons for keeping my twin in the dark.
“That’s not what I meant.”
Dominic cocked his head. “Then what did you mean?”
I shrugged, trying to ignore the heat climbing up my neck. “Just that you’re bothering with me at all when he’s here.”
He studied me curiously before a cocky grin slowly spread across his face. “Shit, you’re pissed that I ditched you earlier.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” I turned back to my blank page, trying to tamp down the rising irritation. “I’m not a child. We’re not playing favourites here.”
There was no point. We both knew who’d win every time.
Spoiler alert—it wouldn’t be me.
“Well, what I need right now isn’t something Max can give me.”
He couldn’t mean me… I slowly turned my head to fully face him. From the smirk he was wearing and the bulge his jeans was doing nothing to hide, he absolutely did mean me doing…that.
“Are you fucking serious?”
“Reckon you owe me,” Dominic drawled, deftly flicking open the button on his jeans. My blood pressure rose until I could hear my heart pounding in my ears. “I did protect you from Maya today.”
My hands dug into the arms of my chair as I fought to keep them there instead of lamping him. Something told me that was exactly what he wanted. “Go fuck yourself, Dominic.”
He smiled mockingly. “I mean, I could…but why would I when your mouth is right there?”
I was on my feet and striding over to him before I realised what was happening. I didn’t think I’d ever been this angry before. Just who the fuck did Dominic think he was?
Wrapping my hand around his throat, I squeezed hard enough to make sure I had his full attention. “Listen to me very carefully, Dominic. The day I touch you again is the day hell freezes over.”
His fingers locked around my wrist as he gave a dark chuckle. “That might be more believable if you weren’t literally touching me as you said it, Shadow.”
I ripped my hand away, jerking out of his grip. “You’re despicable.”
“Maybe. But I think you like me this way.”
I stomped back over to my sketchpad. “Get out, Dominic.”
“Nah. We’re having fun, Shadow. No point in it ending before it needs to.”