Finn snorts a laugh, and Spencer gives him the death glare. The kind that says,don’t start. I’ve heard the stories about how Spencer never checks the forecast and ends up caught in surprise downpours. I figure he’s overcorrecting.
I missed a lot after Finn moved here and I was still in California. Now he’s in love, settled, happier. He took a leap to get away from his toxic family, and it shows every time he smiles. I’m proud of him. Proud of the life he’s building. Even if we’re driving two blocks to avoid somemayberain.
We pull into Leo’s, a local queer-friendly bar that Jaxon, and I guess now my group of friends, hang out at sometimes. The parking lot isn’t overly packed since it’s a weekday night, which is perfectly fine with me since I’m not into big crowds. I like the solitude of my kitchen.
Pulling open the front door, with Finn and Spencertrailing behind me, I’m hit with the smell of stale beer, grease, and rock music blaring over the loudspeakers.
It looks like everyone’s here. Jules and Mira are pushing the tables and chairs together over by the pool tables. Our usual spot.
Since moving back, I’ve been welcomed with open arms into this amazing group. They’ve become my family, and it’s reflected in our once-a-week dinners.
As Finn, Spencer, and I make our way over to the tables, I notice Olly and Jasper over at the pool tables, doing things that are highly inappropriate for public spaces.
Jaxon and Alex weave toward us with a tray of drinks. I’ve known Jaxon since I was a temperamental kid—he was friends with my dad—and at twenty-seven he still treats me like I haven’t quite grown out of it. People take their cues from him. I know it’s well-intentioned, but I’m not in the mood to be handled tonight, and I’m definitely not ready to unpack my recent failures.
“Your usual,” Jaxon says, handing me a beer.
“Thanks.” We clink bottles, and I take a long pull before he grabs a seat next to me, with Finn pulling up a chair on my other side.
I’ve heard it’s not good to drown your sorrows in alcohol, but tonight I’m gonna let myself wallow. That phone call earlier from Lucas was just more shitty news to add to my already shitty year.
If I really wanted to wallow, I would say my shitty life. But I can’t do that, even if life hasn’t dealt me the greatest hand.
I take in the group—my people—and there he is, the world’s sexiest, brooding not-a-stalker leaning against a pillar by the pool tables. How lucky I feel doesn’t even begin to cover it.
His gaze finds me and pins me in place. It’s not a glare, not quite a smile…just that steady, deliberate look that heats my skin from the inside out. Every time his eyes land on me, something low in my chest unfurls, warm and shameless.
Have I mentioned yet that I have a bit of a crush on Mr. Bossy Pants? What I wouldn’t give to feel the press of Dom’s body holding me down, freeing me from the weight of life. We’d be ridiculous together, the kind of heat that fogs up windows and starts rumors.
He keeps his distance, though. No one gets too close, except maybe Jaxon on a good day.
Most folks see the armor and decide that’s the man. I don’t. I see the careful hands, the quiet acts of kindness, the small smile he tries to hide when someone makes him laugh. There’s a softness under the steel, and it calls to me.
Next to me, the scrape of a metal chair against the cement floor catches my attention. I gracefully, yet unsuccessfully, try not to choke on my tongue when I let my eyes roam over the man before me. Now that Dom is mere inches away, my eyes land on his chest, taking in his shirt struggling to keep its shit together as the black fabric stretches across his biceps.
I wonder if he’s the kind of man who loves having his muscles worshiped because I would drop to my knees and apologize for how slutty I was about to become.
Tattoos line sun-kissed skin as they snake from his arm up his neck. Fuck, I could come in my pants right now. And that damn toothpick. What the fuck? He can’t get that much food stuck in his teeth. If he needs to, he can always nibble on my wood…
What is wrong with me?That was horrible… I… I have no excuse.
“Beckett! Beckett!”
“Hmm,” I say, dragging my eyes away from Mt. Saint Dom.
He can mount me. I would totally let him mount me.
Jaxon snorts, and I give him the finger.
“Hey now, is that any way to treat your elders?” Dom smirks, and I give him two middle fingers. He barks out a laugh, the soundsettling deep inside me, taking hold like a flower of silk nestled in thorns.
I don’t know that I could’ve written a better description than the keys did by stroking themselves… And moving on…
“I was just gonna tell you I’ll be over on Sunday to look at the washer and the window you said are having issues. Is there anything else that might need fixing while I’m there?”
Finn leans in. “The step up to the bed platform is loose.”
I laugh, remembering Finn lived in the apartment before me. “Yeah, that,” I tell Jaxon.
