Like a Chinese whisper, I had the vaguest memory of someone from a lecture inviting me out for drinks, and nothing after that. My head pounded, sweat beading down my back, stealing my concentration; but I couldn't ignore his words.
I pressed a palm to my mouth, my eyes sliding to the floor, heat flushing through my body as I gritted my teeth.
If I’d told him I wanted to feel him beneath me, or on top of me, or inside me—or even how I’d once stroked myself to the sound of him having sex—I’d never be able to face him again. I’d move into an apartment like the one Dad bought for my sister and lock myself in there until theworld ended.
Drawing a shuddering breath, a musky scent wafted off me as my hand fell away. Alcohol, sweat, and… sex?
“And… it was okay?” I asked, praying for a good answer. “I mean… you…” My alarmed stare ran from his towel up to his face, taking in every bare inch of his skin. Skin I wanted against mine. Skin I wanted to taste. “We didn’t… do anything, did we?” I finished in a hushed voice, barely able to say the words.
My stomach jumped as Dom’s gaze bore into me. The bile that had been threatening to rise since I woke was almost at the back of my tongue, but I swallowed it down.
Dom gave me a once-over, his lips pursed, his glare hard. “And what makes you think I’d be interested in someone like you?” he replied, his tone leaden, dripping with disdain.
A sharp ache stabbed my heart as I reddened, and my eyes instantly dropped back down to the floor. My shoulders sagging, hurt peppered the strong pulse of shame that filled me.
I wasn’t exactly a boyish twink, but I’d seen all types of men come and go from Dom's flat, some of them the same size as me. I didn’t have plans to act on my desire for him, but the look on his face stung worse than I imagined.
It was stupid for me to think of it, anyway. I was naked and he was only wearing a towel, so it was a natural assumption. But really, he was right. I shouldn't have hoped for something impossible.
“Where did you sleep then?” I asked after a beat of silence, avoiding his glare by searching the room.
Dom nodded towards the blue sofa I hadn't noticed underneath the window, a few dishevelled blankets lying on one side, and the dull thud of embarrassment joined my nausea.
I really was an idiot.
The best words to describe me would be ‘large’ or ‘fat’ or ‘weighty’. Mum didn’t pull her punches when it came to her children’s appearances. All my life she dressed me in clothes to hide my shape and anything else she disapproved of. She’d even used gloves to hide my wide fingers. There were times when she would suddenly grow annoyed, sighing “You’re just like your father,” at any opportunity. He was one of the most successful businessmen of the decade, but she still acted as if our size was the worst thing in the world. I could tell myself it was never about my appearance, only hers, but the pain was too deeply rooted to change.
“I’m sorry,” Dom said, his tone softening, “that came out totally wrong.”
“It’s fine. You made your point,” I replied sullenly, poorly hiding my disappointment. I don’t know why I thought he was better than that. I didn’t want to look at him. I needed to leave.
I forced myself off the bed, grabbing my clothes. I didn’t stop to ask him why they were in a pile beside his bed while my boxers were on the other side of the room. I focused on fighting through the pain and sickness, as well as the shame of being naked in front of Dom.
“Harry, I didn’t mean it like that,” he said. He really did sound regretful, but the damage was already done. He remained in the bathroom doorway as I attempted to dress without throwing up.
I awkwardly slipped on my t-shirt. I didn’t have time to worry about things like boxers or socks when my goal was reaching his door with as few words exchanged as possible. If anyone saw me coming out of Dom’s room, they would instantly make an assumption. But I didn’t care; I'd deal with that later.
I’d fallen for it. Mum had drilled into us how people would use us simply because of who we were. My three sisters and I always had to be alert and make sure we didn’t let our guard down, to ensure we couldn’t be taken advantage of. Yet, whatever happened last night, whether or not Dom was telling the truth, someone had tricked me. I just hoped he wasn’t to blame.
My back was to him as I yanked up my trousers, but my shame over my body couldn’t be masked just by avoiding him.
“Harry…” I heard the floorboard creak as Dom stepped towards me, but I was already at the front door clutching my boxers, socks, and shoes to my chest. If he touched me, I couldn’t tell what I'd do, but the sparks at the corners of my eyes told me what was coming if I stayed any longer. The last thing I wanted was to show him how hurt I really was.
I turned back to him, schooling my expression, one of the many useful things Mum had taught me. “Thanks for looking after me,” I said, my words hollow. “I appreciate it.”
Dom's arms folded, his forearms tensed against his bare chest as he watched me through strands of damp hair. His lips parted with a look of surprise I didn't understand. Maybe he regretted his words, though it didn't mean they weren't true.
Pushing open the door, I let it slam behind me. My nausea was so overwhelming that the vibration of it dug into my bones.
I wasn’t letting Dominic Outrem get to me. I was fine the way I was.
I had to keep telling myself that so my heart wouldn’t be crushed in the process.
Harry
After many heavy breaths standing out in the hall, too sick to move and scared Dom would come after me, I finally swiped my emergency key from under the mat in front of my door.
There were so many things assaulting me from every angle, and I needed to deal with throwing up before I could panic about where my wallet and keys were. I didn't know if I could cope going back to Dom's to ask for them, if he even had them.
