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Maybe if he’d witnessed them it’d be a different story. Maybe if we attempted pursuing something other than just friendship, he’d decide I wasn’t worth it. But for now, at least, he stayed. He cared. So, I pushed those flutters in my stomach down into my gut and smiled to myself, grateful for the friend I’d made out of all of this.
I glanced at my alarm clock and noted the time. Just past eleven. I sighed, moving slowly as I climbed out of bed and stretched. I padded across the room to where Dom slept, taking another secret moment to admire his perfect jawline and annoyingly smooth skin.
I reached out and gripped his shoulder, shaking him slightly. “Dom,” I whispered.
His light snore ceased, and I nearly stumbled backward as he lurched forward, his eyes flying open. He threw the blanket off and abruptly stood up, towering over me.
He grabbed my face between his hands. “What?” His eyes searched mine frantically. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” I drawled. “You’re clearly not, though. I’m trying to put you to bed.”
His brows narrowed. “I was sleeping fine.”
“You’re going to regret saying that later when you can’t move your neck. Trust me. You were twisted into a position that I’m pretty sure an acrobat couldn’t even manage.” I nodded back toward my bed. “Go lay down.”
He dropped his hands from my face, lifting one to his own and rubbing across his jaw. “Well, if you’re awake then I should probably…”
I shook my head. “I’m just going to go use the bathroom. Which I can still manage on my own. You lay down, and I’ll be right back.”
He gave me a lazy smile. “You wanna share a bed with me, Mace?”
“Don’t make it a thing,” I muttered. I didn’t give him the opportunity to respond as I exited my bedroom.
I figured Dom would fall back asleep before I even finished in the bathroom– and I was right. I peeked my head in through the door and found him beneath my covers, snoring again.
I chuckled to myself as I made my way to the kitchen. The doctor recommended against extensive caffeine use during my ‘recovery’, but I figured one cup of coffee wouldn’t kill me. I readied the coffee maker and flipped it on just in time for a light knock to sound at the door.
It was pity in Juan and Dante’s eyes as I found them standing in the hallway with sorrowful smiles and a bouquet of flowers. “How’re you feeling?” Dante asked.
“Stupid,” I murmured as I stepped aside to allow them in.
Juan snorted, and Dante gave him a glance that suggested he shut up.
Juan didn’t hesitate as he began opening cabinets in search of a flower vase. I knew where we kept them, but I let him keep looking anyway as I took the flowers from Dante’s hand and thanked them.
“Physically, though. How’re you feeling?”
“It’s just a minor concussion.” I shrugged. “A small cut on my forehead, but I didn’t need stitches. I have a little bit of a headache. My memory is foggy. But they said I should fully recover within a couple of days.”
Juan grunted as he finally found a vase and filled it with water. I offered them both coffee. Dante politely declined. Juan outright said he didn’t trust the brand I used. We chatted for the next hour about work. Juan gossiped about our coworkers, and then our neighbors. I feigned exhaustion in an attempt to get them to leave without looking rude. They both hugged me before they left, grateful that I was okay.
I had a feeling they probably wouldn’t accept my next invite to hang out.
As I shut the door behind my neighbors, I sighed, dreading the phone call I’d need to make next. I knew Dom had at least let my roommates know I was okay, but Penelope would no doubt be expecting a call from me herself.
I snuck back into my room and plucked my phone from the charger before returning to the living room to call her. She picked up right away. “Good morning,Coyote Ugly.”
I snorted. “I wish.”
“Oh c’mon, Mace,” Carter chimed from the background. I must’ve been on speaker phone.
“If anyone I know was going to pull off aCoyote Uglydancing-on-the-bar moment, it’d be you.”
“Juan compared me to10 Things I Hate About You, actually.” They both hissed. “It was so humiliating,” I muttered.
I wasn’t sure how much detail Juan gave them, but I’m sure it was enough to ensure they’d never want to go out with me again.
“I mean… I don’t know if you’ve forgotten about that night last year when we had to literally peel Pep’s drunk ass off the table top and carry her home,” Carter said.
