Page 223 of Ominous: Part 1
I don’t want to ever go without that.Her.
I just need her to feel the same way about me. I need her not to run when she asks me all those questions she’s put in the back of her mind, born from Dominic’s big mouth.
I’ll give her the answers if she’ll give me some too.
I drop my head, nudging my nose against her neck.
You’ve come too close, now you can’t ever leave.
* * *
This time,when I wake up, it’s abruptly.
It’s like I sense she’s gone before I really see it’s true.
I jerk upright, shoving the covers down to my hips, shocked I even managed more sleep. A quick glance at the alarm clock and it’s after ten o’clock. An hour. I was out another whole fucking hour, and Eden isn’t in here.
The stain of her blood is, but she’s gone, the bathroom door pushed ajar, and I know she would’ve closed it if she was in there.
I glance at my phone, clicking it on, but I have no more messages. I swing my legs off the bed, bare feet hitting the hardwoods. Slipping them into my black sliders, I don’t bother going to the bathroom to brush my teeth first.
I open my bedroom door and peer down the hall, to the guest room.
The door is open.
I hear the softest laugh from downstairs, like it’s muffled between fingers over Eden’s pretty mouth. A second later, and Dominic’s hushed voice says something I can’t quite make out.
I don’t really think about it. I just head to the stairs, taking the steps two at a time, my hand gliding along the railing.
When I walk toward the kitchen, I see them both twisted around to look at me over their shoulders, their heads near one another. They’re on the bar stools, Eden’s feet on the lower rungs, toes curled around it. She’s still in my shirt, but she changed into sweats, probably because she bled through her shorts. Her hair is down, wavy and rumpled to her low back, and she looks fucking stunning with sleepy eyes and a soft smile.
Her phone is face down on the counter in front of her, the sun is streaming in through the doors leading to the pool, and Dominic has a protein bar half-eaten beside her phone, his mouth full as he chews, bleary eyes on me.
He isn’t wearing a shirt.
He’s in low slung shorts and sliders, flat on the floor, the muscles in his back flexed as he keeps looking at me. There are circles under his eyes, even though I know he got more sleep than I did, and I slowly walk down the hall leading from the foyer, coming to stand in the archway of the kitchen.
I fold my arms over my chest and lean against the wall, smiling from one to the other. I feel as if I interrupted something, and I don’t like the feeling.
“Hi,” I say, my eyes on Eden.
A smile curves her red lips. She has her arms crossed, elbows on the island. “Hi.” Her voice is still thick with sleep, and I hope they haven’t been down here long together. I still can’t believe I slept so long. “How did you sleep?” she asks, as if reading my mind.
I keep my gaze on her, but out of the corner of my eye, I see Dom’s hand along his thigh, the unnecessary bandage still taped to his skin. I want to rip it off and make him really deserve it.
“Good,” I answer Eden honestly.
“That’s a first,” Dom mutters. “Maybe you should attack me with a knife every night before you go to bed. Sleep like a fucking baby.”
I raise a brow as I meet his blue eyes, but he looks down first, like he can’t hold my gaze. “Maybe I should,” I agree quietly.
A bone in his jaw moves, and Eden clears her throat. I wait for either one of them to bring up Winslet.
But Dominic just slides from his stool, his sliders clacking as he does, and he shoves his hands into the pockets of his shorts. “I’m going outside.” He walks past me, stopping at the patio door. Lowly, he mumbles, “I’m sorry about last night.” Then he heads out, closing the door behind him. He walks to the shallow end of the pool, kicks off his shoes, and puts his feet in, sitting down by the metal railing.
“What were you two talking about?” I ask, keeping my eyes on Dominic even as I feel Eden’s on me.
“Are youjealous?”She picks at me, humor in her words, that bubbly undercurrent of new energy back in her voice. A small laugh leaves her when I don’t respond, and I still don’t look at her. “I have bruises, I want you to know.”
