Chapter 13 #2
“Uh-huh.” I could press on the details of the day the solution was sent, but I’m already convinced I’m right, so I chuckle instead.
“Of course what you’re saying sounds probable.
But I think it’s far more reasonable to believe that my brother would entirely forget to inform key players of plot points.
He is quite new to such things, you should know.
Still.” I glow. “I am ever so proud of his attempt, and I can hardly believe he likes—” I face Dominic again. “—you that much.”
All at once calm, Dominic smiles. “I’m genuinely unsure what I did to deserve that honor.”
“Probably, if I had to guess, you were just yourself. Makes a girl curious about what plain old Dominic might be like.”
Warmth fills him, and as does a slash of ever-familiar red.
I exhale a laugh and hug my binder. “Boy. I’m sorry you had to see this ridiculous thing.”
“I don’t think it’s ridiculous.”
“Now that I know December tampered with it, I am positive it is, actually.”
“I think it’s cute. I love seeing how loved you are. By December. By your family. By your other friends.”
I blush, and my grandmother gasps, burying her nails into poor Mirabelle’s leg as she laser-focuses on me.
I murmur, “You know something? The way you talk isn’t remotely instalove.”
“No?”
“No.”
“Odd.”
“Completely. There’s a little too much care. A touch too much depth. I’d be shocked if anyone would go so far for someone they’ve only just met.”
“The plot thickens, then, I suppose,” he says, ever alluring.
Mirabelle’s face contorts, then she raises her hand.
My brows rise. “Yes, Mira?”
“I’m…a little confused.”
Yes, well. That makes enough sense. It’s always going to be a little confusing to find yourself in the middle of a story already partly written.
Her finger points, at Dominic, and then…then she says, “Who…is he, actually?”
“Oh?” I purr.
Granee lurches, covering Mirabelle’s mouth before she can say anything else. The poor woman tenses, shaken, so I scowl. “Granee. Chill. I’m sorry about her, Mira. She’s…” I ponder. “…special.”
Granee huffs, freeing Mirabelle and muttering, “It runs in the family.”
Mirabelle whispers, “I’m sorry. I…didn’t…” She crosses her ankles and looks down at her hands, fiddling in her lap. “I think I’m operating outside my comfort zone.”
“I think everyone owes Mirabelle an apology!” I beam, villainously, at my grandmother, who pouts.
After Mirabelle has been dutifully reassured that she has done absolutely nothing wrong, because I am convinced she has never done anything wrong in her life, I turn to Dominic, if that really is his name. “Have you obtained what you need to from The Council yet?”
“No, not quite.”
“Can we have a private moment outside before I head off so you can?”
“Of course.”
I bid my farewells to everyone else, then I step out with him into the humid night.
Here, in a neighborhood with packed-in houses, the lightning bugs aren’t dancing so much, but a few still sprinkle the lawns, reminding me of alluring moments and seductive promises from days gone by.
Leaving my back toward Dominic, I murmur, “Darling…dear…sweetheart…hm. It seems too soon for an endearment, but I’m not sure I want to continue calling you Dominic if it’s not your real name.
And that is what Mirabelle meant, isn’t it?
Who are you, actually? Why are you going by different names, and which is the correct one? ”
“What a thing to assume she meant.”
“You may answer me truthfully this once.”
He doesn’t hesitate to say, “Dominic is mine. Just not my first.”
I face him. “Interesting. Middle?”
He nods. Then he hesitates before stepping forward. He cups my cheek, swipes his thumb across my skin. “Is there anything we need to discuss?”
“Yes.”
“May I start?”
“I suppose.”
He takes a breath, and I hope he’s not about to blurt everything at me.
That would ruin absolutely all my fun right as it’s getting ever more tantalizing.
If he ruins it now, that’s it. We’re done.
Because, fundamentally, that would mean he’s not come to understand anything about me at all.
He says, “I’d tell you everything, if you asked. All of it. I need you to know that.”
My nerves settle. “I said I trusted you.”
His fingers tremble against my skin. “Yes. You did. I…understand if this has changed things, though. It would be arrogant of me not to consider the possibility that I am overstepping boundaries I have yet to learn exist. I need you to know that I will adjust my behaviors to make sure you can maintain a level of ease around me.”
I shake my head. “No. I mean. I still trust you.”
His eyes widen. He glances over his shoulder, at the closed door behind him. “After…after this? You found me hiding in a closet with something personal of yours clutched in my arms.”
“I’m embarrassed you saw an insipid craft I made with my hopelessly romantic best friend, but I’m not stupid.
I know that my embarrassment alone is telling.
It’s an uncommon feeling for me. I’ve discussed decapitation with potential suitors before.
I’m not remotely shy.” Closing my eyes, I lean into his touch.
“Tell me. You said you were shoved in that closet. What would you have done without that…gracious assistance?”
The familiar sensation of his forehead against mine warms me through.
Moments pass with his breath grazing my flesh.
Then he says, “I’d have faced you. I’d have reveled in the moment your eyes met mine as you came through the door.
I’d have watched the notes of a building mystery mingle with elation in your expression as you took it all in.
I’d have smiled and traced the pages of your binder while holding your gaze, hoping you’d turn red for me.
I’d have played the villain who neither hides nor apologizes for his misconduct.
If you are my enemy in this narrative, going behind your back to obtain information is well within my rights.
I, like most villains, have done nothing wrong in my own sight, and it would be unkind to you if I didn’t act like it. ”
I shiver, open my eyes, whisper, “Excellent.”
“All that said, I would like to apologize for Mirabelle. She’s sweet, and I feel bad about the way she was dragged into this. There’s a difference between enemy and evil, and if I understand your story at all, my character is wicked, but not unredeemable.”