“Oh. You’re still here?”
Dominic’s lips curve upward as he surveys me, eyes full of way too much amusement. “Good morning to you, too.”
My eyes swivel to the clock on the microwave. It’s noon.
“I made a fresh pot of coffee, help yourself,” Dominic says before taking a sip from the mug in his hand.
Rolling my eyes, I drag my feet over to the coffeemaker and work at making myself a cup. My back is to him, but his eyes are burning a hole through my robe.
“I see you’ve made yourself at home. Not like I said you could stay, or anything.”
He chuckles, and the sound vibrates against the ceramic mug. “It’s cute that you think you have a choice.”
At that, I spin to face him, and tip my chin down, making sure to pin him with my stare. “I don’t need a babysitter. And if I did need one, I can think of plenty of other guys I’d rather have stand guard than you.”
I don’t want to lash out at Dominic, but it’s pouring out of me, and I can’t stop it.My mind is a collision of emotions, all crashing together at once. I feel angry and violated and vulnerable and out of control. It’s like I can’t get a handle on myself, and need to scream. It feels oddly good to take it out on him, which is so fucked up, I’m trying not to think about it too deeply.
With a calculated calmness, he keep his gaze latched with mine and sets his mug on the coffee table, moving to stand. His shoulders square as he straightens.
It’s as if in that one single move, he’s declared his command. His imposing height swallows up my small living room. His arms cross, emphasizing the bulge of his biceps, and I have to clench my jaw to keep it from dropping open. Even my inability to navigate the storm raging inside of me isn’t enough to detract from how fucking attractive he is.
God, it’s annoying.
I didn’t think it was possible to feel so out of sorts, yet fight to keep my thighs from squeezing to feel any semblance of relief. His presence has me more twisted up than a pretzel. And worst of all, I think he knows it.
“Ellie girl, fight it all you want. I’m not going anywhere. The sooner you accept it, the sooner we can figure out how to coexist without starting a war. We were just starting to get along. What happened to that?”
The more he spoke, the closer he got. Now, he’s inches from me, and I have to decide if breathing is really worth it if it means breathing his air, and risking my resolve crumbling under the weight of everything I’ve been trying to ignore.
His eyes hold mine, refusing to let go, as if he’s daring me to look away. I can’t. I’m frozen, caught somewhere between wanting to step back and wanting to close the small distance between us.
My pulse is a traitor, hammering in my throat. I know he can see it—in the way my chest rises and falls too quickly.
“Ellie,” he whispers as his face softens from the hardened expression he was wearing moments ago. I ignore the little flip in my stomach and clear my throat. “I know you hate this—but I’m not capable of walking away from you. You can try all you want to make light of this, it won’t work. I’ve seen awful, vile things in my line of work; the depths of humanity. You have no idea what it’s like in my head, the images I live with. I won’t survive anything happening to you.”
Heat rises from my neck and washes over my face. The pain in his voice paired with his penetrating gaze; it’s enough to put another chink in my armor. All the chinks belong to him, each one going deeper than the last.
I open my mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. The words I want to throw at him—snarky, dismissive, anything to regain control—die on my tongue.
“Dominic…” I finally whisper, my voice more fragile than I’d like. “You can’t just…come back. We don’t know each other anymore. You can’t treat me like?—”
“Like you’re everything?” he interrupts, his tone unwavering, as if the words were begging to come out. “Because you are, Ellie. You can pretend we’re strangers, if that helps you sleep at night, but make no mistake, querida mía; I know you better than anyone. And I know you’re scared. I also know I’m the only man in your life qualified to keep you safe.”
I shake my head, backing up a step. The intensity in his voice, in his eyes, it’s too much, and I feel myself retreating, both physically and emotionally. “This isn’t fair. You don’t get to take control of everything. You don’t get to?—”
“Yes, I do,” he says without hesitation.Stepping forward, he closes the space I just created, his presence swallowing me whole.“I’m going to protect you and take care of you—andyou’re going to let me, because I need it too. I need it so badly, Ellie girl.”
“Don’t call me that,” I snap, more out of self-preservation than actual anger. “The nicknames; no one calls me either of those.”
Dominic tilts his head, a ghost of a smirk playing on his lips despite the storm brewing in his eyes. “What? Ellie girl? Querida mía? Why not? Because it reminds you ofus? Because it makes you feel things you don’t want to admit?”
I glare at him because I have nothing to say in defense. He’s not wrong.
“You’re being annoying.”
“And you’re stubborn,” he fires back, his voice softening but not losing its edge. “But I’d rather deal with your stubbornness than the alternative. Because at least that means you’re alive. And that’s all that matters to me.”
My throat tightens, and I turn away, gripping the edge of the counter to steady myself. I hate how much of what he says affects me, how much his words weave their way past my defenses. I hate that he’s right—about my heart racing, about me feeling things I’m not ready to acknowledge.
