Page 102 of Flock
But no matter what, it’s there, evident in their bond, their kinship, their intertwined lives.
“Wish You Were Here” floats out of the Bluetooth speaker on his desk; the melody surrounds us, drawing on my sentiment as I grip Dominic’s hand and turn to face him. His attention stays on the ceiling.
“You don’t hate me.” It’s a statement, not a question, but he ignores it. “And this is a date. You stare at me too. All the time. And you’re not as cruel or scary as you make yourself out to be.”
Nothing; it’s as if he’s completely deaf to the words I’m speaking.
Forever a motherfucker.
“Whatever,” I agree with myself for my own sake. “Today was amazing, and you’re an amazing reading partner.”
I giggle because I’m high, because this man makes me feel high, because I’m happy. I turn his hand over and brush my fingers along his palm. When I look back at him, I see his gaze follow my fingers before it returns to mine. He’s not used to the simple affection, and that saddens me. We hold our stare for a few seconds before I speak up.
“My rainy days are yours, Dominic. If you want them.”
“It rains a lot here,” he says after a few long beats.
“Fine with me. But my sunny days belong to Sean.”
“Making rules defeats—”
“No, I’m not making rules. It’s a request,” I interrupt, my eyes search his. “I just need some clarity for myself, but I want rainy days, very much.”
He bites his lower lip and I click another mental picture. “So, you’re in?”
My eyes drop and tension fills the air. “I don’t know.”
“It’s that serious,” he warns. “Don’t downplay this.”
“I’m not.”
“Good.”
Opening my mouth to speak, I freeze when the sound of Sean’s Nova filters into the room through our open window. His arrival has me scrambling around to collect the trash and other evidence of our day. Grabbing the bag from the can next to Dominic’s desk, I rush around tossing in our takeout and empty water bottles.
I can feel his steel eyes on me, and my guilty heart pounds in an erratic beat while I scramble around the room.
One glance at his set jaw and chilled eyes lets me know he’s pissed that I don’t believe him. That I don’t believe Sean. That I’m still unconvinced this won’t blow up in my face. Cowering, I tie the bag up just as Sean bounds up the carpeted stairs. I have the door halfway open when he peers in. He’s soaked from head to foot and greets me with a golden smile. “Hey, Pup.”
“Hi,” I say, my eyes dropping as he draws near.
I can’t do this. I can’t.
But if that’s the truth, why does it feel like my heart is capable? My body has given into the idea easily, but the damning in my head never ceases.
It’s their words—their actions and reactions—that ease my mind, not my own mindset, and at some point, that has to change if this is going to work. Sean waits patiently, but I can’t bring myself to look at him. I’m naked beneath Dom’s fresh T-shirt, a sure indication that I’ve temporarily switched sides and beds.
I reply with the only safe line my brain supplies. “You were gone forever. Did you have fun today?”
“Yeah, I did. Perfect hike, and then I had some work to do. You?”
I nod, emotion clogging my throat. Unsure of what to do, I don’t glance back at Dominic to gauge his read on this situation. After another painful silence, Sean tips back my chin and shakes his head adamantly before leaning in to kiss me. His lips are soft, his smell making my eyes water as he pulls away.
“Still trying to make peace with the devil?”
My nod is solemn. “I want to so much.”
“I’m all yours, Cecelia.” Words—the perfect words—from a perfect man I no longer feel I deserve. He nods past my shoulder at Dom before whispering a soft, “Night, man.” I open my mouth just as he grips the handle on the other side of the door and closes it with me inside.
