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Dominic shakes his head. “Letting the green-eyed monster get a hold of you again, angel?”
“No.” Yes. Maybe a little. “Just making conversation.”
“A few years ago, Cerros underwent a small-scale renovation. The scope of work included suites on the top floor as well as the rooftop conversion. Do you remember?”
I almost don’t hear the question because I’m too caught up watching his finger trace the rim of his glass with the same finger that was inside of me when I came less than twenty minutes ago.
“Yes.” I swallow. “Mal wanted us to bid on the project, but we’d just lost one of our senior designers, and I didn’t want to be stretched thin.”
“Right.” He murmurs. “She was sad that we missed the chance to work on a project together.”
My eyes snap to his face. “Archway handled the renovation.”
“I handled the renovation personally, per the owner’s request. He had been burned by contractors before and wanted to be sure his project was in good hands.” He lifts a cocky brow as he says the last word, and a fire erupts in my veins. “Anyway, by the time we were done, he owed me a few favors.”
Understanding seeps into my bones. Owed. As in the past tense. As in Dominic cashed in a valuable favor owed to him by a powerful man because he knew I would be worried about someone seeing us together. And not just any powerful man, but Sebastian Adler of Adler Holdings, the oldest son of the family who shocked the world when he decided to open a chain of hotels, luxury condominiums, and restaurants instead of taking the CEO title he was raised to hold in the family company.
“Dominic, you didn’t…”
“I did, and I’d do it again just to see the look on your face when we walked in here and you realized the place was empty.”
I tilt my head to the side, wondering if I’ll ever get a handle on this man or the whirlwind of emotions he stirs up in me when he shows me his sweet side every now and again. “Who knew there was a heart under all that asshole-ish behavior?”
“Asshole-ish?” He laughs, and the sound is warm and rich, washing over me in waves. “All that private school education and you resort to making up words?”
I wrinkle my nose at him. “It’s not a made-up word. It’s an informal adverb that means ‘to some extent.’ You know like Black-ish? Kind of Black or, in your case, kind of an asshole.”
He gives me a questioning look before treating me to a grin that I’m way more attached to than I should be at this point. “Damn. That was kind of sexy. I always hated English, but I could listen to you say shit like that all day.”
Suddenly, I’m blushing again and a stupid giggle escapes my lips. I take another sip of water and wave him off. “Shut up.”
“I’m serious though. When you say stuff like that or hand James his ass about looking at finishes in an unfinished room, it just reminds me how incredible you are. I haven’t told you that enough, even though I’ve always thought it.”
Even though I’ve always thought it.
I never hated you, Sloane.
Dominic’s confessions ring in my ears, reminding me once again that nothing with him is as exactly as it seems. All these years I thought he hated me, barely tolerated my presence, resented every breath I took, but now he wants me to believe none of that was true.
And the worst part is: I kind of do.
Of course, I still have questions. Like if he never hated me, why did he always insist on treating me like the most annoying person on the planet? And if he thought I was so amazing for all these years, why couldn’t he have told me? It surely would have saved us both a lot of time and aggravation. Not to mention the peace it would have brought to Eric, Mal, and Mama.
“You could have told me, Dom—”
Loud vibrations coming from his phone cut me off, startling me and chopping his name in half so it becomes an overly familiar nickname with all kinds of sexual innuendo attached to it. I blush furiously as he picks up the phone and moves to decline the call again.
“Don’t!” I shake my head. “Whoever it is, they need to speak to you, so please take it.”
“Are you sure? It’s just Kristen and I can call her back later.”
Hearing Kristen’s name on his lips makes me second guess my suggestion but backing down now will only make me look petty and insecure. Two things I certainly am not.
“Yes. Take the call, Dominic.”
He rises from his chair, phone in hand and a smirk on his lips. “I think I like it better when you call me Dom.”
“I didn’t call you Dom,” I call out to his retreating back. “Your phone cut me off.”
