Chapter 12 Dom

Chapter 12

Dom

All of my best dreams, for the last year, have featured the feisty stunner sleeping just below me, but last night, they were more vivid than usual—more focused—like the details that were getting hazy with passing time are now renewed at having her here again.

Loud banging at my bedroom door startles me, making one of those dreams where Indie was tracing the lines of ink on my thigh fade to black as I drag myself unwillingly back to reality. That is, until I’m alert enough to realize that the real thing is better, and waiting outside my room. My legs tangle in the sheets and I almost lose my front teeth when I tumble out of bed in my rush to get to her.

“Let’s go, Sleeping Beauty!” calls the real-life version of my dream woman.

“Give me a minute.” I kick my legs free, and the sight that awaits me when I twist the knob is better than I could’ve imagined.

Leaning against the doorframe, and looking as impatient as always, is Indie, swimming in a threadbare t-shirt; my high school baseball team logo across her chest. A rolled-up pair of basketball shorts sit high around her midsection where her waist narrows, making the curve of her hips stand out.

When my parents came to visit a few weeks ago, my mom brought some things from high school she thought I would want to keep and stashed them in that closet. Mostly awards and memorabilia from college, but there was also a stack of clothes that she said were too sentimental to get rid of. I hadn’t planned to keep much, but now seeing Indie in them, I know this set earned a permanent pardon from the landfill.

“Can you give me a ride back to my apartment?” With her arms crossed, she drums her fingers against her elbow. Poking her tongue against her cheek, she looks me up and down. Her eyes linger momentarily over my black boxer briefs. “You couldn’t put clothes on?”

“Good morning to you too. How did you sleep?” I ignore her question, pretty sure it was rhetorical since I clearly didn’t bother with clothes, too fucking eager to get to her, but it worked out in my favor. Partially because I like the feel of her eyes on me, and equally because I wanted to remind her of everything she’s missing out on.

“Fine, I suppose. The bath was nice,” she admits with a shrug, her gaze squarely on my face now.

“Don’t you want to know how I slept?”

“You look well rested. That’s enough information for me.”

“Do I now? Tell me more about how amazing I look.”

“That’s not—you know what, if you want me to go into detail, I’m happy to.” Her overly sweet smile tells me I’m in for it and I can’t wait.

“I really do.”

“You have pillow creases on your cheek, so that was my first clue. But it’s the drool crust on the corner of your mouth that really sells it.” Her pointer finger lands on the right side of her face.

My fingers wipe the corner of my mouth. Sure as shit, there is crusty spit in the corner. “I blame you,” I tell her, letting my eyes drop to where her crossed arms are pushing her unrestrained tits up.

“How is that my fault? ”

“My REM sleep was filled with some very vivid dreams about how much you love my tattoo, and the way you draped yourself over me to get a closer look at it.”

Her eyes drop to the art. There’s no hiding the effect she’s having on me as my cock swells, going semi-hard under her gaze.

“Those perfect tawny nipples brushing against my stomach as you kissed a path from there to my—”

“Enough.” She catches me off guard when her hand comes up to cover my mouth. This is becoming a habit of hers, and I’m not mad about it. “I don’t have time for this.” Her hand stays clamped over my mouth. “Brianna switched her flight. I’m not sure if I should give her space or give her a ride, but either way . . .” Her words trail off and I wrap my hand around her wrist, kissing her palm before I remove it.

“You want to get out of here?” My hand stays where it is on her wrist and she doesn’t move to pull it away until my eyes drop to the shirt again.

“What? Did you expect me to sleep in my jean shorts and tank?”

Probably not the time to tell her I’d hoped she’d sleep naked like she did last time. “No, of course not.” I pull on my neck. “I . . . uh, should have offered you something.”

“It’s fine. Snooping was more fun. Frankly, I’m disappointed I didn’t find anything incriminating.”

“Let me make it up to you.”

She rolls her eyes, probably expecting me to say something crass.

“I’ll drive you home and take Brianna to the airport. That way, you two can do what you need to do, but neither you have to suffer through the awkwardness of the drive or drop off.”

“Why?”

It’s a single, loaded word. “Why not? It’ll make your life easier, and I don’t have to be at the stadium for a few hours.”

“Such a boy scout.”

“Do you want to see the merit badges I earned from eating your pussy? Camping and Geocaching.”

“You were actually a boy scout, weren’t you?”

I wasn’t, but it’s too much fun messing with her. “One for camping between your legs all night—best campsite ever, by the way. The view was better than anything I’ve ever seen. Twelve out of ten, would return. The other for finding that spot that makes your back arch and your eyes roll back.”

“There’s actually something wrong with you.”

“But you’re still going to let me help you because you know I’m right. That car ride would be brutal.”

“Fine. Yes. But not because I want to.”

“I got that.” Laughing would only irritate her more, so I roll my lips together to stop it. As much as I love annoying her, I’m making progress. Not that she would admit it, but this is the second time in twelve hours that she’s let me help her. And I did it all without the help of my dick. Which, up until yesterday, was the only thing she’s ever wanted from me.

With her clothes from last night folded up in her lap, she sits stiffly in the passenger seat of my truck.

“Your apartment isn’t in the city,” I say as I drive towards her apartment building. It’s not far from mine, something I immediately noted when I helped her move in.

“And your point is?”

“Coming from downtown Chicago, I just thought you might want the convenience of city living. But it makes sense, you’re closer to the mountains, with adventure right outside the door.”

“I guess.” She glances at the mountain range out her window.

“It’s okay if you tell me I’m right. It won’t kill you.”

“It might.” Like I’d hoped, the corner of her mouth pulls up in a grin that she quickly hides before she turns to face me head on. “My life would be a lot easier if you stopped trying so hard to make me like you.”

“For who? Maybe you haven’t noticed, but I like your claws. And I can take anything you throw at me. But enough about me. What thrill are you going to chase down first? Besides me, of course,” I deadpan before I continue trying to pry her shell open. “Climbing the 14ers, backpacking the Colorado trail, or mountain biking black diamonds?”

“You remember what I told you about my adventure bucket list?” That gets her to look at me.

“I think about that night every day. I couldn’t erase it if I tried.”

Her eyes flick over me carefully. “I haven’t decided yet,” she says, giving me her back again as she faces the window. “Turn here.”

“It’s a vault, remember,” I tell her, tapping my temple with my pointer finger. “I’ll wait in the car while you two talk.” Going in with her seems invasive, and I’m not sure I can handle seeing it if they decide to reconcile. Or kiss goodbye. Just the thought has my knuckles screaming as I grip the steering wheel.

“Yeah, thanks.” She doesn’t look back as she walks to the front door of her apartment.

I’m distracting myself by scrolling when a shadow passes over my screen and I look up to find Brianna reaching for the passenger door. She pulls herself into the truck and drops a bag into the back before looking at me.

“So the ex is taking the ex to the airport. This should be entertaining.” There’s no malice in her statement and she looks no more broken up about it than Indie did last night.

“Yeah, I’m not sure she would consider me an ex. But when you say it like that, I’m not sure this is less awkward than her driving you.”

“It’s only weird if we make it that way. And you’re right, ‘ex’ probably isn’t the right word for you.”

“I don’t know how I feel about you knowing so much about me.” I rub my palm over my jaw.

“Oh yeah, playboy? Worried she told me all your dirty secrets?”

“Nah. I have nothing to hide. I would tell you every filthy detail about the time Indie and I spent together if I didn’t think she would kill me.”

“I’ll pass on the play-by-play.” She grimaces.

“Sorry. You probably have no interest in talking about this. Are you okay?”

“Do you actually care? It’s clear you still like her. ”

“Well, yeah, but that doesn’t mean I’m heartless. Just because I want her doesn’t mean I can’t have empathy when you’re both hurting.”

“It wasn’t that serious. It could have been if we had met at different points in our life, but right now there are too many external factors for us to overcome.”

I don’t miss that way she raises her eyebrow at me. “And what? I’m one of those?”

“Aren’t you? You already admitted you aren’t over her. We don’t know each other well, but you’re a professional athlete. It’s a safe bet that you’re tenacious. It seems like an essential skill for someone at your level.”

My laugh is self-deprecating. “She must not have told you that much about me or I’m sure you’d know that she’s not interested in giving me a shot beyond what I’ve already had.”

“Oh no, she made that perfectly clear, but Indie doesn’t always see what’s best for her. She’s reckless; it’s how she copes with her past. Stubborn as hell, too.”

“Yeah, I’ve picked up on both those things,” I say, not sure where she’s going with this.

“You probably confuse the hell out of her. You’re everything she tells herself she doesn’t want, and everything she probably needs. But the last time she trusted herself to fall like that, it backfired in the worst way.

“I don’t think I like this.”

“Hang in there, big guy. Our girl is not an idiot, she’s self-aware. The reason she fights her attraction to you so hard is because she’s over-compensating.”

“So she wants me, but doesn’t want to want me?”

“Pretty much.”

“And how is that a good thing?”

“There’s a fine line between love and hate. Let her think that she hates you. In reality, you’re exactly what she needs, and if anyone can convince her of that, it’s you.”

“Why would you help me? ”

“Same reason you’re here right now. I want her to be happy. Just because we didn’t work out doesn’t mean I don’t still care about her. Indie’s special, captivating, enchanting. I’ve known that since the first time I saw her, but you know that already.”

“Yeah, I do.”

“She deserves to find her person. It wasn’t me, but I think it might be you.”

I pull up to the terminal, shift the truck into park, and grab Bri’s bag for her. I meet her on the other side of the truck and drape the bag over her shoulder.

“Thanks for the pep talk,” I say, meaning it.

“Just take care of her. She’s as tough as she acts, but she shouldn’t have to be. Give her a place where she can rest.”

“I will.”

“I know.” It sounds genuine, which is more than I would expect given our circumstances.

As she walks away, I call out, “Hey, Bri.”

“Yeah?” She hitches her bag up and turns to face me.

“Don’t call her ‘our girl’ again. She’s mine now.”

I see her head bob in acknowledgement just before she’s swallowed up by the crowd of people rushing into the airport.