Page 98 of You're The One
There’s something in the way he says my name that makes it hard to keep the joke going. Not scolding. Just… searching.
“That didn’t feel casual to me,” he states. “And I don’t think it did to you either.”
I exhale slowly. “You’re just saying that because your brain’s still full of post-orgasm chemicals. Trust me, in an hour you’ll be thinking clearly again.”
“I’m not.” He leans forward. “I meant what I said. I want more with you. If you recall, I said that before.”
The silence that follows is uncomfortable in the way only honesty can be.
I look away first. Because, of course, I do.
“You don’t really know me. Outside of this show.”
He huffs a quiet laugh, no real humor in it. “I know you like overly sugary coffee, but the beans have to be high quality. I know you’re unreasonably cold in the mornings. I know youdeflect with humor and sass. I know you’re scared—more than you’re willing to admit—and that every time I get too close, you push a little harder to keep me at arm’s length.”
God. I want to argue. Deny every word. But he’s not wrong.
“Don’t you know what they say about assumptions?”
“Mia.” This time, the two syllables are soft. Rounded. “I’m not asking you to say anything back. I just needed to be honest about how I feel.”
My heart is beating too fast. Too loud. I cross my arms like that might pin it in place.
“I didn’t plan on any of this,” I admit.
Dom nods, the motion slow, like it’s nothing he didn’t already know.
When he doesn’t fill the silence slowly clogging the air, I add, “So, what now?”
His gaze doesn’t waver. “You said you’d compromise.”
I shift to face him fully, tucking my knees into my chest and wrapping my arms around them. “Okay, so what are you proposing?”
“That you try.”
My brows pull together. “I told you I wouldtryto compromise. What is it you’re suggesting?”
“Youtry.”
My eyes narrow. “Are we reverting to repeating each other and misunderstanding? I thought we were past that.”
He hooks his hands behind my knees and tugs me toward him. “You try to date me. As if that’s what you came here for.”
My lips pull into a frown before I can stop them. A flash of panic skitters beneath my ribs.
“Can’t we just be friends who sometimes give each other orgasms?”
His mouth twitches—barely—but his voice stays even. “You said you’d compromise.”
I pull my knees in closer but don’t shy away from his touch. His hands skim over my legs, massaging my calves.
He waits me out while I consider my options.
I’ve already established that staying away from him is impossible. Even more so after what just happened on the kitchen island. I may be comparatively inexperienced, but I know enough to know I want more ofthat.
And I did tell him my new motto about hope and disappointment.
Would it really be so bad?
