Page 62 of Stealing Home

Right. Sorry.

Gavin closed his eyes. He had heard enough apologies from Dom to last him a while. Before he could decide how to respond, another text came through.

Dom

Actually, that’s part of why I’m texting.

I owe you a better apology.

His stomach sank. This was the clean ending he’d been expecting. Gavin rubbed his thumb over the edge of the phone and tried to ignore the disappointment spreading through him.

Gavin

You don’t owe me anything.

Dom answered immediately.

Dom

Yeah, I do.

Because I think I made it sound like I was apologizing for kissing you.

I wasn’t.

Everything inside Gavin went quiet, and he held his breath as he stared at the phone and read both lines again. Gavin thought he’d understood why Dom had apologized, and he hadn’t been angry that he’d chosen Lucia. That wasn’t something he would ever be angry about. He had been hurt that Dom seemed to think kissing him had somehow betrayed her. And maybe, if Gavin was being completely honest with himself, he’d been hurt that Dom had looked so horrified by something Gavin wanted badly enough that he still remembered the exact feel of Dom’s mouth beneath his.

Another message appeared, and Gavin swallowed hard.

Dom

I wanted to kiss you.

I wanted you to keep kissing me.

Fuck.

He stood abruptly, the bucket falling on its side as he paced in a circle, his pulse thudding beneath his jaw. He didn’t know what to do with that information. He stopped. That wasn’t true. He knew exactly what he wanted to do with it, and that was the problem. He wanted to get in his truck, drive to Dom’s house, walk into that kitchen, and pick up exactly where they’d stopped. He wanted another chance to feel Dom grab his shirt with fingers that trembled with need. Another chance to touch him without wondering if he’d imagined the way Dom leaned into him. He wanted another chance to see what would happen if Dom didn’t panic.