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I don’t even remember what I was apologizing for anymore, but I know it’s the right response when Dom nods his head once before mirroring my position. “Good.”
The plane tips up, and we leave the ground.
My fingers tighten around Dom’s.
“Sor—” I start when I notice that I’m squeezing his hand, but I stop myself.
And Dom’s expression is pure approval.
I loosen my grip but don’t let go as I tell him, “I usually fly alone.”
“Usually?” he asks.
I let out a little laugh when I think about it. “I always fly alone. I’m not used to having someone to…”—comfort—“distract me.”
“I’m happy to be your distraction.”
His tone is back to teasing, and I vow to myself that I’ll stay there with him.
“How very generous of you.”
He huffs out a little laugh. “So, why do you always fly alone? Work?”
“Yeah. I design websites. And you’d be surprised how many people want you to come to them in person to show them how stuff works.” I shake my head. “Ninety percent of the time, I could do this by sharing my screen from my living room. But everyone learns differently, I guess.”
“Living room,” he repeats. “Do you work for a company or yourself?”
“A company. It’s actually based in Chicago.” Dom makes an interested hum at the mention of his city, and I don’t act weird over the fact that we’re still holding hands. Not at all. “I did freelance for myself for a while, but I didn’t love it. I mean, I enjoy my work, but I do it for the paycheck, ya know? It’s not like my life’s passion. And running your own business is a lot of freaking work.”
Dom nods like he understands, and I should’ve expected his next question, but it still catches me off guard. “What is your passion?”
I open my mouth, but the space inside me that should be filled with passion is just… empty. A blank space filled with dead childhood dreams that faded to dust long before I hit adulthood.
Stay positive. Stay flirty.You can’t tell him that you have nothing in your life to be excited about. Nothing to hope for.
“Family,” I kinda choke out.
“I’m close with my family, too.” Dom takes my answer the wrong way, but I decide to run with it.
I meant that I would love to have a family of my own, but this is a much better, much less depressing path.
“Does your family live in Chicago?” I ask, happy to turn the conversation toward him.
Dom snorts. “The whole fucking lot of them.”
That makes me smile. “Big family, then?”
He nods. “Too many to even keep straight.”
“That sounds nice.”
“You haven’t met them,” he jokes.
I tip my smile up toward him. “If they’re anything like you, I’m sure they’re lovely.”
Dom’s face contorts into a look of disgust. “Lovely? Clearly I’m giving you the wrong impression if you think I’m lovely.”
“Oh?” I lift my brows. “And what impression should I have?”
