Page 11 of Sweet Girl

By the timewe get back to Dom’s, it’s after midnight and my body is exhausted. The events at the gym have been on replay since Aidan and Cruz left. It was hard to focus on the workout when the looks on their faces as they watched me come are permanently etched into my brain. They looked so hungry . . .for me. Dom surprised me by showing me off like that, but the more I piece it together, the more it fits. I just need to find the time and courage to ask him about it.

All three men live together under one roof. They purchased it a few years ago as a foreclosure and worked to fix the place up and make it a home. The house sits on the outskirts of town, nestled about a mile deep into the woods. Tall Sitka spruce trees tower over the property, and snow covers the roof in a white, heavy blanket, the front porch illuminated by a single light above their front door.

As I step out of Dom’s car, he’s already retrieving my overnight bag from the trunk. His hand rests on the small of my back as we walk inside. The moment we step into the house, a wave of masculinity envelops me—the scent of leather and cedarwood the most notable. The subtle hints of cologne, mixed with the earthy notes in the air, erase the tiredness I was feeling in the car. Each of the guys is so different, but together, they create something so . . . refreshingly new and addictive. It’s as if each of them has seeped into every inch of the house, warring and blending to create the most intoxicating scent and atmosphere.

“Well, look who decided to come home!” Aidan razzes from his spot on the couch, his laptop resting on his thighs.

“We’re twenty minutes after you,shithead.”

“What was the hold-up?” he asks, raising his eyebrows suggestively.

I roll my eyes while taking off my winter coat to hang in the entryway closet. I slip off my sneakers and place them on the shoe rack before raising my arms above my head and stretching. My body feels the soreness of the workout, and if I’m already feeling it, tomorrow is going to be a bitch.

“Want something to drink,moya lyubov’?”Dom asks me.

“Whatever you’re having,” I reply, immediately regretting my words and grabbing his forearm to stop him. “Not vodka, Dom. Not. Vodka. A beer?” I shudder remembering the last time I drank it with them in a failed attempt at trying to keep up. Fairly certain I forcefully removed my entire stomach lining the next day.

Cruz laughs under his breath as if he’s remembering the same thing, his attention focused on cleaning a chunk of metal with a cloth. He’s sitting in a leather chair under a tall lamp in the corner of the room, looking like the gorgeous, brooding man that he is.

I plop down on the couch next to Aidan and look at his laptop, knowing he won’t mind.

“Whatcha working on tonight?”

“A shoot from last night. Drove into Seattle.”

“Is that where you were?”

He turns his head toward me, bringing us just a breath apart. His eyes, a bright shade of green, look like vibrant emeralds.

“You noticed, huh?”

“Oh, shut up. I’m just curious. Can you show me?”

He turns his laptop so that I can see his work, and an uncontrolled smile brightens my face. I knew that Aidan was a talented street photographer—being featured in multiple magazines and publications—but to scroll through his photographs with him next to me is a completely different experience.

“Aidan. These are incredible.”

Dom takes a seat next to me, handing me a cold beer and putting his hand high on my thigh, sending shivers through my body. The close proximity between both men aids the heat rising to flush my cheeks and my increasingly rapid heartbeat.

Clearing my throat, I murmur, “Thank you. Can you believe these photos?”

“He’s good, but you don’t need to tell him. He knows it already. It’ll inflate his head even more,” Dom says with a laugh.

“Oh, shut up, you jackass. You’re just jealous that all you can do is punch things for a living. Fucking caveman.”

“As opposed to clicking a button on a camera?”

“Both of you shut it. Everyone needs to be praised once in a while, Dominik. Especially when it’s due, and these? Holy shit.”

I slowly move through the slideshow, paying attention to every detail Aidan has captured with his lens. It’s nighttime, and the buildings are illuminated by streetlights. Strangers stand in a circle, huddled around a fire with their hands outstretched, gathering the warmth from the flames. Snow is piled high, surrounding the brick buildings close to them, graffiti painted in various spots, bringing vibrancy to an otherwise dark and depressing area. In another one, a skateboarder glides downhill on a nearly empty road. The glaring red and blue lights from a police car spread color into the shot from the side.

I’m so caught up in each photo that I don’t realize how much time has gone by. When I look up, Dom has fallen asleep beside me, his head relaxed back on the couch. Cruz has disappeared, and Aidan’s focus is solely on me.

“These are . . . I don’t have words. You have the eye for it, Aidan Cooper.”

His lips lift with a smile, and it’s so damn pleasing to see, especially knowing that I put it there. He’s just so freaking handsome it almost takes your breath away.

“In all my years of doing this, no one has looked at my work the way you just did, Emma Davis.”

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