“I know. I just need a little more time.”
“And remember,” she says firmly. “You are nothing like yourfather. Let yourself love. Feel it. Your life is about to change,caro bambino. I can feel it.”
I give a noncommittal hum before hanging up the phone and opening the door. My heart rate kicks up, and I swallow thickly. “Beckett.”
He stands there, eyes blazing, chest heaving like he sprinted the whole way. He points a finger at me.
“Fuck you.”
My brows shoot up. “Okay.” Ohhh, he’s pissed.
I open my mouth to respond, but before I can, he pushes past me, knocking me into the door. I shut it and turn to find him pacing my living room, energy sparking off him in waves.
“Fuck you!”
“So you’ve said.”
He scoffs, running a hand through his hair. “You don’t get to act like you give a damn about me, kiss me like that, then walk away like a giant coward and follow it up by getting jealous. So yeah. Fuck you, Dom.”
Guilt punches clean through my chest. Yeah. I earned that.
“I’m sorry,” I start, taking a step toward him.
He stops, spins. “You’re sorry? For which part?” His voice cracks loudly in the quiet room.
All the air leaves my lungs as his arrow hits its intended target. I really,reallyfucked up.
“I don’t regret getting to know you,” I finally say. “Or giving a damn about what’s going on with you. A lot of people in this town care.”
“So you kissed me for what? To squeeze information out of me?” His eyes shine, furious. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed you hovering. Real classy, Dom.”
“What? No. No. Is that what you think?” Panic snaps through me.
“What the fuck am I supposed to think?” he yells, arms in the air.
“Wait,” I say, moving fast.
As he passes, I catch him around the waist and pull him back against me, desperate to ground both of us. His back hits my chest, solid and tense. For a second, he fights, muscles flexing under my grip.
“Let go.”
“Please,” I breathe against his ear. “Just… wait a second.”
He struggles once more, then stills, breathing sharply. I shouldn’t notice the way he fits against me. I shouldn’t breathe him in. Sandalwood, lavender, and something warm and undeniably him. Everything within me aches.
“Why did you have to play me, Dom? Just like him.” His voice is so quiet at the end, I almost miss it.
“Who played you, Beckett?”
He shakes his head, voice fraying. “I can’t. I can’t talk about it. Please, just…”
“Okay,” I say quickly. “Okay. I hear you.” I force myself to keep my hold steady, not trapping him, just there. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to run. I got spooked, and that’s on me.”
My hands slip under his shirt, gliding across the soft skin before finding his nipples.
“There’s a reason I don’t do relationships,” I admit, voice low. “I’m intense. I like control. I like knowing the person with me wants that from me. That they trust me with it.”
He draws a sharp breath.
