“Stop playing with me,” the deep and now slightly irritated voice grunted. “Not going to lie, Ana. I’m too fucking tired to be playing whatever charade you think this is.”
What charade? Was I the one knocking on his door? Instead of uncertainty, a new round of anger shot through me. Who did he think he was?
Deep breath, Ana. You can do this. You’ve faced exes before. None have shown up to your house, sure, but we can get through this.
We can get through anything.
I flung the door open, holding it tight in my hand just in case I needed to slam it again. “What do you want?”
Dom remained in the same spot he had been the first time I opened the door. He stared at me as if he’d seen a ghost. He looked like not a day had passed since he had last stood there months ago. Then again, everything had changed. The last time he had left after all, it had been less cordial than this meeting.
Which said a lot.
I used to think that when you felt a lot, you had a lot to say, but after he had walked out the door last year and I had no words, only throwing an expensive bottle of red wine at his head, there was nothing more to be said. Now, we were full circle. I held a new bottle in my hand, prepared to use it again if I had to, even if the last bottle of wine had left a permanent stain on my floor. Another reminder.
There definitely wouldn’t be a chance in the otherworld that I’d be getting my security deposit back. Not unless an extra-strength industrial floor cleaner was invented.
AndifI ever left here. I apparently should have months ago.
Then, I wouldn’t have scary-looking exes I had cursed showing up at my door.
My heart beat faster in my chest as I looked at him and the true differences I noticed. His hair was shorter and cut tight to the sides of his head, making the tattoos that curved up his neck even more pronounced. But then there were his eyes, dark and exhausted. His shoulders were slumped as he took another deep breath, looking at me. Oddly taking me in the same as I did him, looking for the reminders I had tried so hard to force out of sight out of mind.
Cursed.
The microwave beeped.
“What was that?” Dom raised his eyebrows, peeking over my shoulder.
“Popcorn.”
“Wow, we should be putting on a show.”
This wasn’t the entertainment I’d had in mind for myself tonight. Wine. Mindless dancing to tire me out enough to fall asleep for a few hours. Bed. In that order. Now, unsurprisingly, Dom had had to come and ruin that for me too.
“What do you want, Dom?” I asked again, holding on to the door in case I needed to slam it shut again.
“Can I come in?”
I’d rather he didn’t.
“Or should I set up shop here in the hallway and raise my voice a little louder?” Dom all but shouted the last part, knowing very well how pissy my neighbors were about noise late at night.
He looked mighty pleased nonetheless when I grumbled, pulling him inside.
“Have you become insane as well as a pain in my ass in the past nine months?” I finally let out, not thinking about my words as I took two steps back away from him. It was as if I was afraid that being too close would make me do something stupid like jump into bed with him. I knew my limits, and when it came to Dom, I didn’t trust myself with him.
I didn’t trust him either.
Dom chuckled, deep and low. “That’s quite the list already. I’m sure I’ll add a few more grievances on how I must’ve wronged you by the end of the night.”
“Oh”—I chuckled, as if that were the best joke I’d ever heard—“you’re not staying.”
The microwave beeped at us once more, shrill, even between the sound of music still playing, like some sort of sick soundtrack to whatever was happening here.
Dom jerked his chin. “Are you going to get that?”
I parted my lips, hoping to have something to snap back at him. I didn’t. Every time I looked at Dom, everything clogged in my throat. He was here. Dominic Rovnik was standing right here in front of me, in my apartment, like a dream.
