Page 19 of Graves

Dominic: When can I see you again?

I smile to myself as Itap out my reply.

Me: You literally just saw me.

Dominic: Your point?

Practically giggling to myself like a schoolgirl, I text him back.

Me: I work for the next four nights. Can you do early afternoon any of those days?

Dominic: I’ll see you tomorrow. Noon. I’ll bring lunch.

Me: Okay! See you then. Night.

I pocket my phone and grab my purse before locking my car and heading upstairs. It’s not until I walk through my door and look up at my entryway mirror that I realize I’m grinning like an idiot. Fuck, I should not be getting this giddy over a guy I virtually just met. I mean, granted, I’ve known him for over a month, but almost all of that time he was MIA. I’ve only been around him less than a dozen times, and I can already feel myself falling down the slippery lust slope. I mean, god, how could I not? The man looks and fucks like a Greek god. He’s fiercely protective and also surprisingly kind. Soak my pantiesand sign me the fuck up.

My alarm goes off earlythe next morning. Normally, I sleep in, but Dominic is coming over, and to put it nicely, I’m a slob. It’s not because I’m lazy, I really do try, but when one too many things need to be done, my anxiety gets the better of me. I get overstimulated, and I disassociate. But I don’t want him to know that, so having a sex-on-a-stick man in my apartment is motivation enough to clean it up.

After I wash the dozenth dish and fold my second load of laundry, I’m just able to get a clean top and some jeans on when a heavy knock sounds from my apartment door. He texted me twenty minutes ago to let me know that he was on his way and to shoot over my apartment number, but I really thought I had more time. I glance at the random papers stacked on the kitchen island, shoving them into the first drawer I see before running my fingers through my hair and walking over to the door.

When I pull it open, Dominic is standing there in his typical black dress shirt and black pants. A bag of something amazing smelling is in his grasp as he lifts it up in offering.

“Hope you like Mexican.”

“Love it.” I smile as I awkwardly stand in the doorway before I step to the side. “Oh, sorry. Come in,” I say and he nods his head with the start of a smile and steps inside.

His eyes scan the apartment, nodding to himself softly.

“What?” I ask.

His eyes come to me. “It’s exactly what I expected.”

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” I laugh.

“Good.” He nods. “It’s warm, lived in. Feels nice.”

“Are you a vibes guy? Gonna lecture me about my chakras and all that?” I tease as I guide him over to the dining room table.

He lets out a short laugh as he shakes his head.

“More of a feeling guy. I think our gut is the most intelligent organ in our body.”

I raise a doubtful eyebrow at him as he begins unpacking the food.

“Not the brain?”

Dom shakes his head. “Our brains are intelligent, of course, but when you’re down to the wire and you need to make a split decision, more often than not, we rely on our gut when our brain can’t handle that high-pressure situation.”

I rest my elbow on top of the dining room table as I place my chin into my hand.

“What kind of high-pressure situations do you deal with, Mr. Graves?”

He raises an amused eyebrow as he looks me up and down.

“Plenty.”

“Yeah? Like when customers don’t pay for their flat tire or bunk engine?” I ask as I grab the container with what looks like beef fajitas.

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