Coming out of Dom’s room.
When he wasn’t around.
“Fuck.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Roe
My mind was still racing as I filled Alley’s dishes before putting on my makeup and doing my hair.
Because I was pretty sure I was the one who figured out what happened to Dom. Well, at least who was involved.
I wasn’t sure, after the guys seemed somewhat unswayed by my earlier argument. Which was why I wanted to rewind the footage and see if I could find anything else.
Sure enough, there she was.
Where she definitely didn’t belong.
I mean, it was possible she did belong there. She could have been hooking up with Dom. And we had no footage earlier to see if maybe they’d come into the suite together the night before or something.
But it was something.
It felt good to help.
Milo was hiding it well, but I knew he had to be worried sick about his cousin.
Because whenever he spoke about his family, it was with a warmth I could hardly relate to.
He couldn’t have one of them missing and be as calm as he was trying to appear.
I imagined that now, with me gone, he was running around like a crazy person.
I probably should have felt guilty about keeping him from searching earlier. But, well, there was nothing about the time we spent together that I regretted.
If anything, I was just frustrated that I had to go to work because every part of me wanted to stay in his room, in his bed, in his arms.
I was almost a little afraid of how much I wanted that, how much I wanted him.
I wasn’t sure I’d ever had such a strong, immediate sense of connection with someone before. It was thrilling and terrifying and delicate.
Which was why it was probably a good thing that I was getting a little space to make sure I kept my head on right.
I was so distracted by all the memories of the night before (and that morning) that I forgot to even be nervous about work, about how things stood with Frank, about anything that had to do with my little spying mission.
I figured that whole thing was on hold until Domenico was tracked down anyway.
So I got on stage.
I sang my flirty, sultry songs.
Only they had a lot more personal references in them as I imagined what Milo and I shared, as I thought about singing only to him.
I finished my last set, my heart set on getting out of here, texting Milo, and sneaking back to the hotel for more alone time with him.
And I was heading toward the door when one of Frank’s guys moved in my way.
“Frank wants employees to use theemployeedoors from now on,” he said, his tone absurdly condescending, seeing as he was also an employee.
