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As swiftly as it came, my temper is dampened by emotions. “I… I don’t know how to act around you.”
He furrows his brows. “What do you mean?”
“Because I don’t know what’s real with you, Dom. I don’t know what’s real and what’s a lie, and it leaves me…” I lift my hands and let them drop back down. “Stranded.”
“I never lied to you.”
My exhale is full of tangible doubt. “I don’t believe you.”
“Fine.” He steps closer. “I told you one lie.”
“One,” I repeat, already not believing him.
“Yeah, Shorty, one.” Then he tips his head to the side. “Okay, two.” He holds up a finger to count off, and to stop me from retorting. “One, I wasn’t in Vegas when you asked if I was. But I was there by the time you landed, so that’s hardly a lie.”
“That’s a lie, Dominic.” I catch myself too late and use his full name, causing his lips to quirk.
“And two, there are direct flights from Denver to Chicago.”
It takes me a second to understand that he’s referring to our very first meeting in the Denver airport.
I cross my arms. “Tell me how you did it.”
“Did what?”
“The whole airport thing. Did you somehow plan for my backpack breaking?” This must be what they mean when they saymorbid curiosity.Because I want to know the answers. I feel like I need to know. Even though I’m sure the answers will only make me feel worse, not better.
“If I can’t get a knife past the clowns at TSA, then I should save my enemies the trouble and just slit my own throat.”
I wrap my arms tighter across my chest, not liking the visual of blood pouring down Dom’s neck.
Then I take in the first part of what he said, and my arms drop. “You cut my strap.” My tone is so put out it makes Dom smile. I jab a finger at his chest. “That was a perfectly good bag, and you ruined it.”
“That bag was a piece of shit.” He catches my finger in his grip. “And before you ask me a million more questions, let me just tell you how it went.” He holds my fingertip against his body, and I have to tip my head back to keep my eyes on his. “I bumped into you, cut your shitty backpack, knowing that was the only way to get you to stick around long enough to talk. If your bag wasn’t broken, you’d have tried to run away from me at the first opportunity. And you know it.”I do know it, but how did he?“And it only took one phone call to a man I know at the airline to get your seat upgraded.”
I bite my cheek. That sounds way too easy but absolutely plausible.
Then I think of everything that came after. The movie. Sharing earbuds. Dom falling asleep on my shoulder. The pod.
“Was having sex with me a part of the plan?” I ask the question before I can chicken out. I need to know this part, too.
“From the first moment I saw you, I wanted to fuck you.” Dom shifts closer. “So yeah, getting inside that sweet cunt was a part of the plan. But fucking you in the airport? No, that was just a happy bonus.”
I try to pull my hand away, but he doesn’t let go.
I scoff. “You expect me to believe that I’m really your type?”
I didn’t want to say that. Didn’t mean to voice it.
But Dominic made me feel so good about myself. He made me feel sexy in a way I never had. Made it so I wasn’t constantly worrying about what angle he was looking at me from. But ever since it all went to shit, I can’t stop those insecurities from screaming at me.
And I need to know if that was all fake, too.
Dom drops his gaze to my toes and back up. “I’ve never had a problem with short girls.”
“Short…” I shake my head. “I’m not talking about being short. I’m talking about fat girls. Big girls.” I flare my hand that isn’t still trapped in his grip out to the side in alook at memotion.
Dom’s free hand darts out to capture mine, and I squeak in surprise. Always forgetting how fast he is.
