Page 47 of Flock
“Fine. I will.”
“And take a fucking picture, for Christ’s sake. God invented camera phones specifically for shit like this.”
“Sean doesn’t want me to have my phone when we’re together. I’m going to have to hide it before he gets back.” I wince, knowing how damning it sounds, and I’m met by a moment of complete silence on the other end.
“That’s a little controlling, don’t you think?”
“He just hates the distraction of it. He wants me present when we’re together.”
“That’s kind of hot.”
“He’s different, I’m telling you.”
“Well, just rip the Band-Aid off now. If he goes psycho, at least you find out now, rather than later.”
“Good point. Christy, I’m in over my head already with this guy. He just makes me think ... differently, makes me feel ... gah, what the hell am I doing?”
“I know you’re scared, but don’t let the past dictate what could be good for you. Lord knows I’ve been praying for this. Love you. Call me tomorrow.”
“Love you.” After hanging up, I dash to my car and put my phone in the glove box, resentful of the deal but opting to honor it after today. I have no doubts Sean meant what he said about it being a dealbreaker.
After returning to the kitchen, I add a few spices to the salad mix and begin to chop up the tomatoes while trying to reason it out. Christy’s right. It’s not a big deal. I’m making a mountain out of a molehill.
Dominic should not be sleeping naked if he doesn’t want to be seen, and I have to get over it. Sean will probably think it’s funny.
Sure, he’ll think it’s as funny as you thought it was walking in on Jared mid-thrust.
But Sean is not my ex, and I’m trying my best not to make him pay for a boy’s mistakes. Deciding to admit the truth before dinner, I chop up an onion on the plastic cutting board I found and grin when I hear the front door close. Sean had doubled back to the store to grab the beer we forgot during our first trip.
“That was fast,” I round the corner and run smack into Dominic. His eyes widen as he grips my wrist, shaking the knife out of my hand a split second before impact. I sputter as he glares down at me while ripping his earbuds out.
“What the fuck?!”
“I’m s-s-sorry, I thought you were Sean and you heard me.”
“Obviously, I fucking didn’t.” I gawk as he glances around the kitchen. “What are you doing?”
“Obviously, I’m cooking,” I snap. “You don’t have to be so rude.”
My anger amuses him. “I like my steak rare.”
“That’s Tyler’s steak.”
“Mine now,” he reaches behind me and pops a cherry tomato in his mouth.
“I’m not cooking a damn thing for you.”
He yanks me to him, and I lose a little bit of breath as he eyes my mouth. “My house, my rules. You cook for one of us. You cook for all of us.”
“Also, Sean’s house, my hands, and my fucking prerogative.”
His smile is cruel. “You like playing house?”
“I’m not playing house. I’m cooking for my—”
“Boyfriend? Cute. You think Sean’s your boyfriend?” He sets me loose, and I pick up the knife between us, tempted to use it as I backtrack. “I didn’t say that. I didn’t say he was my boyfriend.”
“You didn’t have to. Word to the unwise: careful about getting attached, sweetheart.”
