29. Someone I Can Trust

Leonie

Issy left early to ‘go to the bakery.’

When I’d sneaked back into her room in the early hours of the morning, I’d seen her phone lit up with texts from ‘DINGUS’. The name Rocco was saved under.

I wasn’t about to ask. In case she asked me the same question.

Like I had started to sneak about, she’d been doing so on and off for years to go and see him.

When there were a few raps at her bedroom door, I knew it was Dom.

I pulled myself up and opened the door an inch. “Yes?”

He was looking sheepish, lips pursed and staring at the floor, rocking on his heels. Like he did as a kid.

“I like us being friends,” he said, avoiding eye contact. “And… I don’t want to lose that.”

My silence made him look up at me through his lashes. “Want to bake Issy’s birthday cake with me? Like we used to?”

Every year, the Belov siblings had a competition. They made each other a birthday cake and tried to cover it with the most horrific, child-like decorations they could manage.

Since the tradition began back when Issy and I were eleven and he was thirteen, Issy had won every year but one. The last year that we had baked together was for Issy’s fifteenth birthday. We had made a Yoda cake, where his ears were drooping so badly that before we had got it to her, one of them had fallen so it looked more like it was coming out of his crotch than his head.

“You want us to bake?”

That might have been the Dom from years ago, but the Dominic Belov before me now had other things on his mind. Like sex.

Yet he wanted to bake with me?

Maybe we were actually friends.

With a few benefits.

“I want us to bake,” he confirmed.

In our kitchen, I pulled out all the ingredients we would need and he tied one of the aprons around my back.

We made the cake, getting half-covered in flour. Dom was always the messiest chef but clearly had an ulterior motive by getting two handprints on the apron across my tits.

Watching him stir the mixture in the bowl, I suddenly felt an overwhelming wave of sadness. Dom would have baked this cake alone if I wasn’t here.

Other than last year with Mia, he would have baked by himself all these years.

Each birthday, without fail, he always arrived with an awful cake.

But who did he have to bounce ridiculous ideas with? He was too private and stern to go to a friend for advice on icing.

Once, he’d even been embarrassed about his dad seeing.

He pressed a kiss into my neck, his hands on my hips as I washed my hands. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” I said and walked to the counter, starting to measure out the ingredients for the icing because I needed to blink the tears away before he saw.

I didn’t want Dom to be alone anymore.

Once the mixture was in the oven, he turned to me and pinned me against the wall, my hands above my head. “I’ve missed this,” he said, looming over me. “I’ve missed us being friends.”

Because that was all we were ever going to be.

Friends.

I’d wanted more at sixteen, and now…

I wanted more.

But it wasn’t something I could spend my time thinking about.

“Me, too,” I said and, on my tiptoes, reached to kiss him.

We scrolled through Pinterest for awful cake-decorating ideas.

This year, Issy had become obsessed with Mario Kart. A Princess Peach was definitely on the cards. Searching through our cupboards, I found red food colouring and we got to work on making the icing.

The cake was a mess of smears. Her hair was a mixture of pink and yellow, coming out an orange-peach colour and her dress dripped down the sides.

“You’re winning this year,” I declared as we looked down at our handiwork.

“This rivals even Yoda,” he said, his voice in awe at the monstrosity.

I laughed and got up the pictures of our inspiration to compare.

He took my phone with his icing-covered fingers and scrolled. “Maybe we should actually try and make a good cake. I wonder what we could do if we tried. Friday? You can stay round ‘cause Is will be gone and then we can drive up together Saturday…” He frowned and tilted my chin up to look at him. “What?”

“I, er, have plans then,” I mumbled, really wanting to look away. I could have said it without giving it away if I was less awkward, more casual, and a better actress.

But as I forced my eyes on him, I saw the recognition on his face. His jaw slid back and forth as he glared down at me.

I had never been scared of Dominic Belov and I didn’t think I ever would be.

His expression had me swallowing for another reason. I’d upset him.

“You’re still going on that date with Jack,” he said simply. He removed his grip on my chin.

“Yes.”

I went to reach for him but stopped myself. I couldn’t trust myself around him. As much as I couldn’t trust him.

“This is— it’s too complicated, Dom.” I laughed to ease some of the tension. “I’ll end up liking you soon enough and this is already complex.”

“You’ll like me?” he asked, the words he threw at me loaded with such disgust I could drown in them.

“Yes!” I shouted. “I will end up liking you and as much as you can bake and fuck all you like without getting attached, I can’t. Mia told me Jack is a good guy. He won’t lead me on.”

“You don’t even know him—”

“I am going on this date because I want to,” I cut in. “Because I need it. I need to get out there and see a nice guy who isn’t Jared. You told me we aren’t dating, so you’re going to let me date someone else.”

“Like hell I am,” he snapped and took my bicep before trying to pull me to him.

“I need someone I can trust.”

He blinked and his grip on me softened before he let me go.

“You can’t be serious,” he muttered. “You’re not sleeping with me and my friend. That’s fucked, Leonie.”

“But Jack won’t get bored of me,” I snapped. “Jack won’t leave me when I need him the fucking most. When I was grieving, when I was a mess. Jack won’t make rules about my life that I didn’t even know existed.”

I didn’t realise there were tears until I saw the smears on his top as he pulled me close. “You weren’t there,” I sobbed. “And I needed you.”

“I know,” he soothed, stroking my back. “I know. I was a dick. I know.”

But he still hadn’t said sorry.

“You’ve got to go,” I mumbled and pulled away to lean on the kitchen counter. I couldn’t look at him, but his feet stayed fully planted on the wood floor. “Please.”

He pressed a kiss to my forehead and gathered his things.