I peer up at Dom, meeting his gaze. “Yeah, maybe so.” My chest tightens, the humor slipping away as a quiet fear settles in. Not panic—just the sudden awareness that this moment feels … fragile. Like our days together might already be numbered.
I don’t know why that thought takes hold.
I only know I don’t like it.
His brows furrow suddenly, and I realize he must see my emotions written all over my face. “Are you okay, Nic? Is it Cocoa?” He pauses, swallowing his mouthful. “Because he’s getting a lot better. It takes time for animals to get it down perfect, you know?”
“Yeah, for sure.” My voice softens, and I do my best to push away the feelings in my chest.I don’t think Dom is nearly as concerned about the future of us as I am.I divert my gaze back to Cocoa, blinking away the moisture that’s making me feel absolutely ridiculous.
I watch Cocoa, waiting for the right moment to step on the end of the leash and get my dog back under control. Finally, the black nylon material comes within about one foot of me. I stomp on it quickly, breathing out a sigh of relief.
“Gotcha,” I mumble under my breath as I secure it around my wrist. Dom lets out a chuckle, but I can’t bring myself to look back up at him. I don’t want him to see how I’m feeling right now, and Iknowit’s all over my face. And now that Cocoa is caught, he’ll know it’s something more.
“Are you not hungry?” Dom asks as I keep staring down at Cocoa, who is now sitting at my feet, peering up at me like I owe him a treat for my own skill of catching him.
“I think Cocoa is always hungry,” I joke, but my voice comes out sad and weak. I dig into my pocket, searching for one of the few treats I brought with me.
“No.” Dom’s hand brushes my forearm. “Nicole, I’m talking to you. You made amazing food and you’re not eating. I can hold Cocoa for you.”
I finally peer back up at him, and when I meet his eyes, I can see all the concern on his face. “I’m okay. I think I’m just not hungry right now. You know how it is.” I shrug, trying to brush it off.
He nods slowly and then shoves his hands in his pockets.
Let’s just get this over with…
“How was your meeting today?” I ask, trying to sound as bright as I possibly can, all the while bracing for the news that Dom is leaving LA.
He’ll probably be moved out before we ever have a chance to hang out again.
“It was a little tense…” Dom’s voice trails off as his gaze stays transfixed on my face. “I don’t want this to come out the wrong way—”
“It’s okay.” I force out a laugh as my stomach starts doing somersaults. Even Cocoa seems invested in the moment, probably catching on to the tension rising between us. “You can just rip the band-aid off, you know.”
He takes a step toward me, a warm smile tugging at the corner of his mouth and forming dimples in his cheeks. “Nicole,” he says quietly, “I told my agent I’m done pushing for the next thing. I want to be here.”
“What?” I nearly choke out the word, not sure I heard him correctly. “You’re not … going to Texas?” It’s impossible to hide my shock.
He shakes his head. “There was never anything definite. Just noise. Interest. And I told my agent I didn’t want him chasing it.” His mouth curves into a small smile. “I’m staying here. At least for now.”
I stare at him, my pulse thudding in my ears. “Here… here?”
“Yeah.” He laughs. “But I also know I don’t control everything. Trades happen. Careers are messy.” He reaches for my hand, squeezing it once. “What Idoknow is that I don’t want to make choices based on fear—or walk away from something before I give it a real chance.”
My chest feels too tight to speak.
“But the thing is, I don’t want to be the reason you don’t chase your dreams,” he continues. “If Miami is what you need to do to pursue things with Cityscape, I won’t stand in your way. I’d never want that.” His thumb brushes over my knuckles. “But I do hope you’ll give me a chance at being your boyfriend anyway, even if it’s long-distance.”
“Dom.” I burst into laughter, tears filling my eyes. “I have to tell you something.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Dominic
Oh no.I can’t tell if she’s laughing with tears in her eyes because I’m crazy for thinking that she wants to be my girlfriend, or if it’s something else entirely.
“What is it?” I ask carefully, still holding her hand.
“I’m staying,” she says. “I’m staying right here in Los Angeles, too.”
