“Ellie,” Dominic says, his voice low and steady. Too steady, considering the way my chest is rising and falling like I’ve just run a marathon.
I keep my gaze fixed on my car door, refusing to turn and meet his eyes. Every time I look into his melty brown eyes, my defenses evaporate to dust. “Move,” I manage, though it comes out more like a plea than a demand.
“Not until you talk to me and tell me why you’re here,” he counters, his hand still pressed firmly against the window.
“There’s nothing to talk about,” I grumble, wishing I could disappear into thin air. “I didn’t mean to intrude. I just got curious—” My voice catches, and I bite down hard on my lip. “I haven’t been by in years…And I’m sorry for ruining your date, or whatever.”
Why am I explaining?
He exhales sharply, the frustration in the sound rippling over my skin. “Ellie, Morales isn’t?—”
“I don’t want to hear it.” My grip tightens on the door handle—trying to pull it, but his weight keeps it in place. My stare flicks straight ahead, landing on the woman. Morales. Our eyes meet—hers narrowed, assessing.
Her stare is cold, not so much as an attempt at feigning friendliness. I guess I would be upset too if another woman showed up at my man’s place in the early hours of the morning.
She pins me with one more glare before getting in her car.
If she’s not his girlfriend, she wants to be. I know that look.
Dominic and I remain unmoving as she peels out of the driveway without a glance back.
And then it’s just us.
“You don’t owe me an explanation,” I start, trying to keep my delivery breezy despite the pressure building in my ribs. “You can date whoever you want. It’s none of my business. Just let me go.”
I mean it. I do. But the words taste bitter, and my pulse thrums painfully in my ears.
This is uncharted territory. Outside whatever my imagination could cook up, I’ve never seen him with another woman. It’s unsettling.
“Ellie girl.” He softens, in that low, patient tone that used to make me melt. It’s making me melt now, but I’m choosing to ignore it.
Finally, I spin around, ready to confront him, but I freeze when I see the look on his face—he’s amused, smiling.
I find nothing about this situation funny.
“She’s my coworker,” he says quietly, his all-knowing eyes shining with glee. “We’re not together. Morales stopped by to talk about a case, that’s all.”
My cheeks flame, and I drop my gazeto the ground, suddenly very aware of how ridiculous I must look right now. “Oh,” I mumble.
“Yeah. Oh.” His lips twitch like he’s holding back a laugh, which only makes me more defensive.
“Well, how was I supposed to know that? She was in your house. I just assumed?—”
“That we’re together?” he interrupts, his eyebrows lifting.
“Well, yeah,” I admit, focusing my attention on a rogue wildflower instead of him.
A beat of silence passes before he chuckles, and I whip my head up to scowl at him.
“This isn’t funny!”
“Ellie,” he says, that damn grin still plastered on his face. “You’re jealous. It’s cute.”
My head jerks back, hot embarrassment crawling up my neck. “I am NOT jealous.” It comes out sharper than I intended, but I double down, crossing my arms. “What I am, is too curious for my own good. I only wanted to see the house, see if you made any changes. Your personal life doesn’t concern me.”
His smirk deepens, slow and deliberate, the kind that creates a coil low in my stomach. A wicked, almost teasing curve settles on his lips.
“Admit it.”
