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My brain is still surfacing from sleep, but I recognize the feeling of Dominic sprawled across me.
Not sure if he’s awake, I stay as still as possible to act like I’m still asleep.
I can’t believe I let myself do that last night.
What was I thinking?
The weight shifts again, and something long and hard presses against my ass, followed by a deep masculine groan.
I’m turned away from Dom and his side of the bed, so I let my teeth sink into my bottom lip.
I don’t like this.
I’m a fucking liar.
I crack my eyes, wanting to see if the sun is rising, but all I see is Dom’s big hand in front of my face. His arm is draped all the way over me.
His chest expands against my back as he takes a deep inhale, and my hair ruffles when he lets it out.
Just get up already!I scream inside my head. I have to pee, but I need him to get up first and leave because I need to have at least an hour of self-loathing before I face him today.
Dominic’s hand slides out of view, and then he finally lifts himself off me. Mostly.
I start to question what he’s going to do when something presses against the back of my head. “Morning, Angel.”
I’m too stunned to react, thinking he’s caught me awake. But then he climbs off the bed, and a moment later, the bathroom door shuts.
Did he do that thinking I was still asleep?
Why?
* * *
“Shit,”I say to no one as I open one cupboard, then another, before I finally find the mugs.
Grabbing one, I’m surprised at the weight, but I don’t have time to think about the black ceramic as I rush to fill it with coffee—that was thankfully already made and waiting on the warmer for me.
When Dominic got up, I snuck down the hall to a bathroom I’d spotted earlier to relieve myself. But not wanting to talk to him, I rushed back to bed and pretended to still be asleep until I heard him leave the condo.
I have no idea where he is. Maybethe mafiahas an office somewhere. But my cowardice threw me behind schedule, so I’ve been rushing to get myself ready for the web call I have in—I check my phone—two minutes.
Careful not to spill, I cross the great room to the large dining table between the living room and stairs and set my coffee next to my laptop.
The sky is bright blue above the Chicago skyline, and even though I’m flustered and running late, I can’t complain about the view.
I click on the link to the meeting and connect just as the clock flips over.
Five people are on the call, including Bri, the woman whose bachelorette party I blew off so I could get drugged and subsequently married to Dominic. Then there are the two people who make up our marketing team and one other designer—like myself. Our boss was supposed to be on this call, but he emailed saying he couldn’t make it.
I’m not sad he’s missing it. This call full of women is much preferable.
“Morning,” I greet everyone, as I’m the last to join.
“Damn, Val!” Bri whistles and leans closer to her screen. “Is that your new place?”
I could kick myself for not remembering to blur my background. But it’s too late now because everyone is leaning toward their screens to get a better look, even the marketing people I hardly know.
I can’t even blame them. From my spot at the dining table, the camera shows off the massive ceilings, the high-end, stupidly large kitchen, and part of the open stairs leading up to the second level.
