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“Ummm, sure.” I write my number on the pad he hands me before heading to the bathroom. As soon as I enter, the gravity of what just happened hits me hard. Was Trent, right? Did Dominic…want me? There was no denying what had been shifting between us in the last month, but did he really want to cross that line? Or merely…flirt with it?
I reapply some lipstick before I head back to the table. I spot a glass of water in front of my seat and Dominic staring down at his amber liquid pensively.
“Why the long face? Miss me that much?” I take my seat and give him a smile but he doesn’t return it.
“You like him?” His tone is even without even a hint of playfulness. It almost sounds accusatory, like he’s upset that his hypothesis might be correct.
“The waiter? Well, we exchanged about three sentences before Hurricane Dominic came in. What was that about anyway?”
“I just worry about you…” He lowers his voice and leans forward. “You should have seen every head that turned when you walked by. Watching you like…like you were their prey or something.”
“Well, you’d never let anything predatory happen to me, now would you?” I say with a wink. I pull the glass to my lips and take a long sip before licking the excess water from my lips.
Dominic shifts in his seat and I wonder if he reallyisaffected by me. “He asked me if I wanted to go to this party later.” Dominic goes to respond but I hold my hand up. “I’ve seen enough movies that I won’t just go gallivanting off with a Charleston townie at night all alone. That’s how young tourist girls get roofied and date raped. Maybe if Kate were here.” I shrug. “Besides, I’m not going to leave you at home all by your lonesome. Clearly, you need me around.” I smile and for the first time, he smiles back.
“I do enjoy your company, Stassi.” He swallows and takes a long sip of his drink. “Probably far more than I should.”
The rest of dinner is less intense. We laugh and talk and even though his mysterious comment about enjoying my company still sits in the back of my mind, I try not to obsess over it. I try not to over think it and imagine that he wants to enjoy my company in other ways. He’s still nursing his whiskey, and curiously, I wonder what it tastes like. “Can I try your drink?”
His drink is halfway to his lips before he freezes with it mid-air. “You’re not twenty-one,” he responds.
“What are you a cop? Come on.”
“There could be a cop here,” he rebuts.
“No one is looking. One sip. They don’t know that I’m not of age.” I cock my head to the side in a way that’s gotten me my way in the past.
He sighs. “I’m going to the restroom. If you try it while I’m gone, I’m none the wiser.” He winks before getting up. I expect for him to retreat immediately but he presses his lips to my forehead first before heading towards the restrooms. My skin tingles from his kiss and I briefly wonder what it would be like to feel his lips on mine. I let out a breath before reaching my hand across the table. I look around the restaurant and surprisingly people seem to be minding their own business, though I do spy a few floating eyes.Whatever.I internally shrug before taking a long sip of his drink.
HOLY SHIT,is the first thought that enters my brain.SPIT IT OUT,is the second. I hold the liquid between my cheeks and suck it down slowly, letting it burn all the way down. I’d drained the glass, which wasn’t much, maybe a shot, and it tastes nothing like the fruity vodkas and rums I’ve had in the past. EventhoseI barely tolerated. I let out a breath before sucking down a large gulp of water, swishing the traces of the oaky flavors from my mouth. I shudder and scrunch my nose though I can’t help the warm feeling that is slowly flooding my veins and heating my insides.
“That was pure comedy,” Dominic says as he sits down and pulls the glass from in front of me. “I knew you’d hate it.”
“It’s so…strong.” I shake my head, my body shuddering again at the memory of the taste.
He chuckles. “It’s not for little girls, baby.”
I pout and furrow my eyebrows in indignation. “I amnota little girl.”
“No, Stassi. You certainly are not.” His voice is low and his eyes flare with a look I’ve never seen before.
“Can we go for a walk on the beach?” I ask. It’s still relatively early, and I’m not ready to go home quite yet. I think the whiskey is starting to kick in and I want to enjoy the effects after what was quite possibly the nastiest thing I’ve ever tasted. It’s only fair.
He looks around the restaurant and signals that we are ready for the check before turning back to me. “Whatever you want.”
I’m playing with fire. Actually, fuck playing. I’ve taken up residence in hell and Satan has been whispering in my ear all night about how fucking sinful Stassia looks. How every move she makes is so innocent and yet so sexual that it makes me feel things I’ve never felt before. It’s like she’s become this whole new person and I’m struggling to see her as my stepdaughter and not this charming, unbelievably gorgeous young woman who is currently pressed up against my side as we sit on the beach. She’s wiggling her toes in the sand and giggling that it tickles which makes me believe that the whiskey is kicking in.
“We may need to get you home. You’re feeling good, aren’t you?”
She looks up at me, those innocent brown eyes that are wild with wonder and intrigue disarm me the second our eyes lock. I’m grateful she looks back towards the water almost instantly, which allows me to get a hold of myself before I completely lose it.
“Warm and toasty.” She rests her head on my shoulder before linking her arm through mine. “This is really nice. Thank you for dinner, Dominic.”
“Of course.”
“Can I ask you something?” I freeze, wondering what question that’s potentially fueled by liquid courage could possibly fall from her lips.
“Mmmhmm?”
