Page 74 of PS: I Hate You

From fear? From horniness? Who knows. Probably both.

When we come to a stop at the counter, Dom sets my bag down and faces me.

“Guess I shouldn’t have doubted you,” I say, reaching for the handle of my roller bag, but his thick thigh is in the way.

“You’ve got everything?” Dom asks as his eyes scan my body.

Then, without warning, his hands take the same route.

“Phone,” he mutters, palming my right thigh pocket. “Plane ticket.” He pats my hoodie pouch. “Wallet.” Left thigh pocket. “Laptop is in your bag. Inhaler is in the side pocket. And you’re wearing your glasses.” He pushes the frames up the bridge of my nose as his brows dip in concentration. “Am I missing anything?”

That last question breaks something open inside me. I’m shattered by the desperate, concerned edge that reveals too much of this man who tries to maintain control of every element around him.

Am I missing anything?

I’ve heard that question from Dom before.

The same question he muttered to himself when the twins were leaving for camp.

The same question he whispered when sorting his mother’s pain medications.

The same question he murmured the few times we crossed paths in Josh’s hospital room.

Those words sound like a quick double check, but for Dom, they’re a warning.

Don’t miss anything,he’s telling himself.If you miss something, and this person gets hurt, it’s your fault. You could’ve stopped it.

I see it in his eyes. The fear.

How many hours did he spend poring over those medical articles and research studies with the same question berating him?

Am I missing anything?

Finally, Dom looks me in the eyes, his brusque check of my essentials complete.

Maybe I should be affronted that he’s sending me off the way a loving mother would drop her toddler off at preschool. Instead, my heart skips and trips over knowing that he took the time to notice where I store all my essentials when traveling.

He missed one thing, though. Something that, in this moment, I’ve never needed more.

Don’t do it! You’ve been burned too many times by this man! Stop sticking your hand in the fire!

But I can’t help myself around Dom. This is why I moved across the country after that first rejection. Because like an immortal moth, I keep reviving my scorched heart and flying straight into the beautiful, deadly lantern that is Dominic Perry, ignoring that I’ll probably get fried to a crisp.

“This is your fault,” I grit out. His eyes widen as I lunge forward, wrapping my arms around his neck.

I kiss him hard.

This is what he gets for letting me nap on his shoulder and cleaning my glasses. This is what he gets for hauling my suitcase througha crowded airport at a fast yet manageable speed. This is what he gets for learning every detail of Josh’s disease in hopes that he could save my brother’s life.

This is what he gets for always being steady and caring.

This kiss ishisfault.

Dom grunts, but he doesn’t pull away. I don’t give him time to. Almost as quick as I started the lip lock, I break it. Without sparing him another glance, I grab my bag, scan my ticket, and disappear into the safety of the boarding bridge, pressing my fingers against my lips to cling to the traces of him.

Chapter

Twenty-Two

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