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“Zoe, darling…can you please join us for just a second?” Tristan calls out from behind me.
I stop but don’t turn around.
“Tristan, I swear, I’ll kill you right here, right now,” Dominik snarls.
“I’m trying to help you, jackass.”
“No.”
“I just want to propose this to Aaron and Zoe. If they hate the idea, then I’ll drop it, I promise.”
I slowly turn to face the guys, and my attention is drawn to Dom, who is standing behind Tristan with such a flushed face that it appears steam could erupt from his ears at any second. It looks like Tristan is one word away from Dominik spilling his blood all over Aaron’s white couch.
“What’s going on?” Aaron makes his way over to his leather armchair, grabbing his drink off the coaster.
“Nothing,” Dom sneers, his nostrils flaring.
All right, I need to hear this now. There is definitely something juicy going on.
“You’ve got my attention,” I chime in, smirking at Tristan, who turns toward me with a mischievous smile on his face, ushering me to take a seat beside him on the couch.
Crossing my arms, I shake my head. “I’m good right here.”
“Suit yourself.”
Tristan directs his attention at my brother, who is looking down at his Rolex, seemingly bored with this conversation already. A complete contrast to the other two men in the room. One is bursting with excitement while the other looks like he’s about to shit his pants.
“Zoe should be Dom’s fake girlfriend.”
Come again?
I think I misheard whatever the hell just came out of Tristan’s mouth because Aaron doesn’t say anything. He simply continues sipping on his liquor as if he’s enjoying a live jazz band at a fancy bar. Aaron should be reacting. Maybe spitting, yelling, throwing something. So I definitely misheard if Aaron is acting as cool as a fucking cucumber.
“I’m not listening to this,” Dom bites out as he begins charging out of the room.
“Stop throwing a temper tantrum and get back here. Tristan might be onto something,” my brother finally pipes up and nearly knocks the air out of my lungs with his words.
“What?!” I screech at the same time as Dominik speaks.
“We’re not going to date,” he growls.
I catch Dominik’s eyes briefly, but he averts his gaze. I ignore the pang of disappointment that settles in the pit of my stomach. It’s good to know he’s equally bummed out about this suggestion as I am.
I shake away the cluster of thoughts overcrowding my brain, knowing the psychoanalyzing never changes anything, nor does it help. But no matter how many times I tell myself that, I can’t stop thinking about the tone of Dominik’s voice as he said those five words.
We’re not going to date.
I glare at my brother, a silent plea to get me out of this with whatever dignity and respect I can scrape up, but he doesn’t look at me.
A conversation in private would have been nice. It seems like they have already decided that I should help out, even though the guy involved doesn’t even like me. Just as I’m about to leave the room, Tristan suddenly stands up and slowly walks toward me. He brings his palms together, almost like he’s signaling a truce between us.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have sprung it on you like this. The situation with Dom is a bit time-sensitive. I’d be happy to fill you in, and then you can decide if you want to help or not.”
I feel Aaron’s eyes on me as I follow Tristan over to the couch.
“I don’t need help,” Dom utters.
Tristan whips around. “Shut up. You asked for help, and you’re going to listen to what I have to say.”
