I froze at his words. Normally, his phrases came with wicked smirks or a quick wink. Not a hard stare that banished away my shame and woke something entirely different, but the force that called me to him.
“I have to go,” I said quietly, the tension still weighing heavily between us.
“Alright,” he replied with a harsh puff of air through his nose. His bottom lip dropped, as if he were about to say somethingimportant, but he seemed to decide against it. “Hey, Harry. Don’t forget about me, eh?” he said, still not breaking his gaze.
“I won’t. Four pm, right?”
He gave me a wan smile. “Yeah, four. Perfect.”
Guilt I couldn’t explain curled through me at the strangeness suddenly brewing between us. I numbly held up a hand in an awkward wave as he stepped away from me. “Bye, Dom,” I said, sounding as strange as I felt.
I couldn't tell what to make of the moment. I was sure, like last month, it was going to follow me around and jump into my mind when I least expected it.
“Harry! Come on!” Natasha called me again with a laugh.
My heart picked up as I turned, leaving Dom behind. I could feel his eyes boring into my back as I walked away. But it was okay; we sorted it out. Something told me I wasn’t going to get rid of him that easily. And part of me didn't want to.
Harry
Iopened the door to my house and stepped inside, hitting the light before slipping off my shoes. It had been a long day. I’d stayed at the office for eight hours instead of the usual twelve, but then there was the fundraising event afterwards. Four hours of sweet-talking potential donors was still work, no matter what Mum said.
Dom swerved around me and disappeared through the door to my left, heading for the stash of beers that was a permanent feature in my fridge. He was over here at least three times a week, and it was his fault our stocks were always low.
I rubbed the bridge of my nose before shucking off my dinner jacket, letting out a quick sigh as I hung it on the hooks next to the door. That would be at least another £1.2 million for The Fischer Foundation, minus the £40,000 Mum spent to host the bloody bachelor auction in the first place.
If life had gone my way, I'd still be working at the Imperial Hospital with my friends. Nestled in the centre of London, it was always bursting with activity, as opposed to the lazy, decadent lifestyle I was raised with. But there were certain problems I had to fix myself, and one of thoseresulted in leaving the medical field, spending the past three years funnelling all my energy into taking over The Fischer Foundation, my family's prestigious non-profit organisation.
I scanned the hallway, eyes passing over the mismatched furniture and art scattered over the walls, looking for my cat. Almost everything in my house had been picked out or decorated by someone else, but I enjoyed letting other people make decisions. In my personal life, at least.
Mr Snuggles normally accosted me every time I walked through the door, but from the hissing coming from the kitchen, it looked like Dom had cornered him again. They never got along, and I had no idea why.
“Beer?” Dom shouted as I made straight for the sofa. We’d been sitting on hard-backed chairs for hours and I needed to relax.
“Yeah, sure,” I called back. I’d already had too much water tonight. I had to keep myself sharp in case one of the Board members attempted to trip me up. But I was free, and when I was so tired, I honestly didn’t care about waking up rough or hungover. Most mornings were a struggle, anyway.
Molly, my girlfriend—or, fiancée—had picked out this great emerald sofa that ran along two walls of our living room. I made a beeline to the corner, dropping onto one of the soft pillows, kicking my feet up on the coffee table, giving Dom plenty of space to choose from.
I loosened my belt, popping off my grandfather’s cuff-links and giving them a small smile before putting them in a bowl atthe centre of my coffee table. They were a good luck charm, left to me when he passed twenty years ago.
Sighing, I finally leant back into the cushions. It was rare for me to get peace nowadays. Whether at home, in the office, or at various family events, I was always performing.
I shot a look to the kitchen as I heard the fridge door close. Even in front of Dom, I had to hide parts of myself. It was only in slight moments like this that I could break my lifelong pattern.
There was just one more thing I had to do tonight and then I could finally rest.
I really should have done it earlier. I’d been making endless excuses not to have the conversation with Dom because I knew him well enough to know how this would go. But the party to announce the engagement was already arranged. And I’d rather see Dom’s shock now than his hurt later.
Molly was on a late shift in the paediatric ward again, so I had the entire night to drag it out if I wanted to.
It should have been straightforward enough to tell my best friend I’m engaged, but Dom grew touchy about certain things.
He and Molly had been friends since we began dating three years ago. We’d go out every week with friends, have dinners together, go on holidays together. Dom had no problem spending hours with me choosing presents for Molly or sitting with me after a fight, convincing me to go home to talk to her.
There were some things that had set him off. When Molly and I moved in together, when we bought Mr Snuggles, and especially when we told him we were buying a house. If he wasannoyed, he generally wouldn’t talk to me for days. He actually went on holiday for two weeks after I told him about the house, though he insisted that it had already been planned.
There was another hiss as Dom popped the beers, followed by a light ting as he dropped the caps on the kitchen counter. He came sauntering into the living room, a wide grin on his face, handing me a beer. The cool glass was exactly what I needed to calm the heat humming in my palms.
“Man, I hate those things.” Dom said as he flopped down right next to me. It didn't matter if we had a whole theatre to ourselves; he always sat as close as possible. That was the thing about him: he liked contact.
