Page 34 of We Own Each Other

ALL OF THE blood in my body was rushing to my head. Everything was all cotton in my brain, and I couldn’t decide if I wanted to go to bed and lie down or dance and sing. After thinking through everything and coming down from the high of even running into them, I realized there was no guarantee I would get a call from Noah or Anthony, but there was more of a chance than there had been before my fateful encounter at the corner grocery store.

How many people got first-row tickets to one of the most secretive parts of the Dom world out there? The rich and powerful were all Doms, and while many people thought all of that wealth and influence meant freedom, it wasn’t always the case for those who fell outside of their expectations. Noah, an Abbott, and Anthony, a Griff, were both outside their families’ expectations, which made them fascinating windows into their world.

And I wanted nothing more than to see into just what all of that pressure would do to the Subs and Doms subjected to it.

As I approached my front door, the realization of just how obsessed I was washed over me. I sighed, recalling all the studies that had been done and the concerns the public had raised about Doms taking part in my field. We had too much access to very vulnerable people, and we had tendencies that made us interacting with them a very dangerous combination.

I wasn’t a full Dom, but I still felt that urge to tear things apart — now, whether that was just because I wanted to see how they ticked or because I wanted to destroy them? Even I couldn’t be sure. But I was beginning to see why people were worried.

Subs were often seen as the more oppressed sex, but Doms weren’t all that free, either.

And Switches? Well, we were just lost in the middle. Often, on our own.

But then I opened my apartment door, and I realized I wasn’t alone anymore.

Draped across the end of my bed, kicking his legs in the air while he flipped through a book I didn’t recognize, was Luke — my Luke. He glanced up just for a second, smiling and running a hand through his hair before focusing back on the book before him.

“Hey. Welcome back. I was planning on slipping out while you were out, but thought that might be rude.”

I was so glad he hadn’t left just yet. Not only because I had just spent a small fortune on fresh ingredients to show off with breakfast in bed, but because I didn’t want to be without him. Not today, certainly.

But not ever again, if I could help it.

I chuckled, heading toward my little kitchenette. I dropped the groceries on the counter, then popped open the upper cabinet to grab my hot plate.

“I’m glad you didn’t. Who else would eat this amazing breakfast I plan on cooking up for you?”

Luke didn’t respond, and I assumed that was because he was back to flipping through the book he picked out. So I focused on my own task, searching my cabinets for my frying pan. As soon as I found it, I set it on the hot plate.

I turned it on, then set out to find the carton of eggs I had picked up, but Luke’s voice stopped me.

“Can I ask you something that might ruin the mood?”

Swallowing, I gripped the edge of my counter.

“I don’t know. Is it going to ruin breakfast, too?”

“Are you seeing anyone?”

I turned, incredulous. I expected him to be giving me that smarmy grin of his, but he looked completely serious. Luke was silent, the book before him finally closed so that I could see its cover. To my embarrassment, it was an erotic novel about a cross-dressing man marrying a prince so they could take over the empire together. But that wasn’t what I cared about.

What I cared about was where this conversation was going.

So, I turned off the hot plate and gave Luke my undivided attention.

“I’m not. Are you?”

Luke shook his head, and, to my surprise, he swallowed. It was loud and audible — almost cartoonish. He glanced down at the book cover, idly tapping it. With a wavering voice, he asked:

“So… since we’re both unattached, would you want to attach to each other?”

He winced and shook his head, but said nothing else.

I wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. My face was burning, and my heart was pounding. I slowly made my way over to the bed and took a seat in front of him. Still, he refused to look up and meet my gaze.

Finally, I just had to laugh.

I grasped his chin between my thumb and the hook of my forefinger, then gently tilted his head up so I could look into his face. His eyes, crystalline blue, sparkled, but he refused to look at me directly. His gaze was roving, adorably looking at nothing.