"I can't go twenty minutes without thinking about her because she's invaded my space. She's a distraction. One I can't afford to have at the moment. Plus, she doesn't listen. I told her to stay in the apartment while I was at the office, because then I wouldn't be thinking about her while I was gone, but she somehow managed to convince Leo to take her out, and then I had Jaylen in my ear spouting shit, and I just saw red, completely lost my mind."
He hums thoughtfully, but doesn't say anything, and I scoff in frustration.
"I'm telling you all of this because I'm hoping for you to give me a solution."
He shrugs. "I'm not sure I can give you a solution, kid. It seems to me you're more interested in her than you thought you'd be, and it seems like you're struggling to deal with that. We all knew you'd struggle with this arrangement because of your… control issues, but unfortunately, you can't control what she does, Dom."
"I didn't expect her to be so defiant," I state, rolling my eyes.
He chuckles, standing up and clasping me on the shoulder.
"Trust me, I've been where you are," he says, walking around his desk and taking his seat again. "My only advice is to allow things to play out as they are, and to stop being so uptight. Let her do what she needs to do, maybe try to dial down the grouchiness, and pay attention to how you really feel about her. You may find it'll help."
Chapter Twenty-Five
Alicia
By the time I get home after spending the day with Sophia, Jess and Rory, night has fallen, and the apartment is blanketed by darkness, so I safely assume Dominic is still out, most likely avoiding me, just as I'd hoped.
Unclipping Jellybean's lead, I let her wander off while I jog up the stairs and into my room, changing into a comfy pyjama set and fluffy socks, all while glancing down at the heap of messages lighting up on my screen from the group chat I've now been added to.
A smile plays on my lips as I walk out of my room, thinking about how surprisingly nice the girls have been towards me, and how easily we all clicked.
It was nice to feel accepted.
As my feet plant themselves on the floor of the living room, which is illuminated by the city lights from the window, I hear movement from down the hallway, and my shoulders slump as my eyes flutter closed and I release a sigh.
So much for avoiding him.
Before I make my way into the kitchen, a conversation I had earlier with the girls—ways to further get to Dom—reappears in my mind,and my teeth sink into my bottom lip as I debate on whether I should follow through with Jess' suggestion or not.
"If you really want to get under his skin, be seductive. Show him what he can't have. Wear something cute, but sexy, and be around him. I promise, it'll drive him insane."
When I hear Dom grumbling in the kitchen, his gruff tone has my mind made up.
Smirking, I unbutton the top few buttons on the pink cotton T-shirt I have on, and roll up the waistband of my pyjama shorts until I'm sure half of my ass cheeks are on display.
I saunter into the kitchen, making sure to add an extra sway to my hips.
Dom's back is facing me from where he's seated on a bar stool at the kitchen island, and before he turns around, I snap my eyes over to the cupboards, feigning indifference to his presence, even though I can feel the flush appearing on my skin.
I'm aware of the moment he looks at me, because I can feel his gaze burning a trail over every exposed inch of my skin. I hear a faint growl echo throughout the room when I stand on my toes and reach for a glass from one of the higher shelves.
I spin around, glancing at him from the corner of my eye, frowning slightly when I see him staring down at his phone. He shovels food into his mouth, seemingly unaware of my presence, and completely unaffected by my attire.
Moving over to the fridge, I open the door and scan my gaze over the contents, looking at the lower shelves.
Spotting a carton of orange juice in a lower shelf of the door, I bend down, keeping my legs straight and purposefully pushing my ass into the air as I grab the juice from the fridge.
Again, the feeling of his eyes coasting over my body slams into me, and I'm glad my hair is hanging around my face to cover the smirk that lights up my face. But when I stand up and glance over my shoulder, I see he's once again staring down at his phone.
Am I imagining things?
Has he been looking at me, or am I just making a fool of myself, and I've convinced myself he's looking at me because deep down I want him to?
Huffing, I pour myself a glass of orange juice and then turn to face him, assessing his drawn brows and the fierce look in his eye as he stares at his phone screen with his chin resting on his fisted hand.
Dejected by his lack of attention, I down the remainder of my drink, put the glass in the sink, and then return the orange juice to the fridge before hightailing it out of the room.
