Chapter Nineteen – Dom

 

Not all love stories were perfect.

Some people snored.

Like Chloe.

 

Chloe dug her keys out of her purse and unlocked her front door. It swung open with one gentle push, and she stepped inside, clicking a switch and filling the hallway with light.

Her street was, otherwise, almost completely dark. There were no streetlights except at the very ends on the main roads, and since she lived in the middle, all she was illuminated by was the dim hall light and that of one porch light to the right of her door.

She turned, dropping her purse strap off her shoulder and down her arm until it rested in her hand. “Aren’t you coming in?”

I leaned against the pillar that held up the small balcony off her bedroom. “Do you want me to come in?”

“Do you want to?” She drew her lower lip between her teeth, and the apprehension in her eyes hit me.

She was nervous.

“I want to,” I said softly. “But I don’t have to.”

“I want you to.” She stepped back, opening the doorway for me. “I don’t have any pizza for you, though.”

“I think I’ll cope.” I followed her inside and shut the door behind me. She slipped against me, putting the key in the hole and twisting it. “Did you just lock me in?” I asked her.

“No. You’re free to leave at any time. All you have to do is twist the key.” She stepped away, hovering awkwardly. “Can I be honest?”

“I’d welcome that.”

She twisted her hands in front of her, dipping her head slightly so that her blonde curls covered her beautiful face. “I don’t…” She lifted her face to meet my eyes. “I didn’t invite you in to have sex.”

I didn’t say anything. I knew that.

“I had fun tonight. A lot of fun. And…we didn’t fight.”

“We bickered, Chlo.”

“We didn’t yell,” she corrected. “And, I don’t know. What happens if you stay, but we don’t have sex? Will that ruin anything?”

“Well, that depends. Are you gonna make me watch Friends? Or can we both decide on a TV show to watch? Because, you know. I’ve seen enough of that show to last me a lifetime.”

“That depends, too. Are we naked in bed watching ice-cream?”

“As a rule, yes. Yes, we are.”

“We don’t have to watch Friends,” she said. “But I’m not watching a totally man-ish show, either. How about a movie?”

“A movie sounds good. What haven’t you seen?”

“The new Avengers.”

I paused. “You only want to watch that for Hemsworth.”

Chloe pulled a tub of ice-cream out of the freezer and shot me a look. “And you’ll watch it for Scarlett Johansson. What’s your point?”

I didn’t have one.

“Let’s watch that.” I grabbed two spoons from the drawer. “Upstairs?”

She nodded. “Let’s go. I can deal with this.” She ran up the stairs, a tub of ice-cream in hand, and I followed her. She was already getting undressed with her back to me by the time I made it into the bedroom, and I paused to watch her.

She was fucking beautiful. From her blonde curls to the bean-shaped birthmark on her lower back.

She paused. “Are you watching me?”

“No. I’m…looking out of the window.”

“So, I’m now transparent and square. Awesome.” She turned to me and put her hands on her hips. “Why are you still clothed?”

“I was busy looking out the window,” I said, putting the spoons on the bed. I pulled my shirt over my head and kicked off my shoes simultaneously. I didn’t miss the way she unabashedly stared at me as I undressed.

“Now who’s staring?”

“Shut up.” She reached over the bed, grabbing the spoons and climbed under the covers. It took her seconds to pull off the lid of the Ben and Jerry’s tub. She dug her spoon in before I’d even unzipped my pants, for the love of God.

“Thanks for waiting for me,” I muttered, kicking off my jeans and sitting on the bed next to her.

“Ice-cream waits for nobody,” she said, spoon in her mouth, and reached for the TV remote.

“Ice-cream, or you?” I questioned, pulling the covers over me.

“Ice-cream,” she said, looking at me. “It melts. Duh.”

She had me there.

“It’s hard to argue with that kind of logic.” I leaned over and stuck my spoon in the tub. Pushing down into the ice-cream, her grip loosened, and she let go of the tub.

“Hey!”

I took it and pulled a huge chunk out of the ice-cream.

She stared, slack-jawed, at the tub. “Why would you do that?”

“How else am I supposed to eat it?” I questioned, putting the spoon in my mouth.

“Slowly and gently.”

“It’s ice-cream. Not a kitten.”

“It’s the best ice-cream,” Chloe said, snatching the tub back. “You can’t just dive into Ben and Jerry’s like a savage. You have to treat it with respect.”

“Again,” I said slowly, “It’s ice-cream, not a kitten.”

She looked down at the tub then back up at me. “This might be a deal-breaker for me.”

“I think you’re insane.”

“Is that how you treat someone who saves you the last piece of pizza?”

I paused. “It is when they think ice-cream is something to be revered.”

“You’re getting real close to sleeping on the floor tonight, Dominic.”

“Is that so you can sleep with the ice-cream?”

She stared at me. “Yes. At least it won’t answer me back like you do. Or eat my last piece of pizza. In fact, I think I’ll be in a relationship with Ben and Jerry’s instead of you.”

I stopped.

She froze. Her eyes widened, and I swear she nearly choked on her own saliva. “I mean—not that we’re, you know. I didn’t…shit.”

I fought back a laugh. “I really want to jump in here, so you don’t dig yourself a deeper hole with that statement, but I want to see you talk your way out of it.”

She licked her lips. “I didn’t, um.” She pushed her hair away from her face and stared at the wall.

I took the tub of ice-cream and started eating. She was too traumatized by what she’d let slip—the big, scary ‘r’ word—to even notice that I was tearing chunks out of the tub.

“I can still see you being mean to my ice-cream,” she said in a small voice.

Maybe she did notice.

Three spoonfuls of ice-cream later, she finally turned back to look at me. “I didn’t mean to imply that we were in a relationship. Because, you know. We haven’t said that.”

“Well, that sucks, then,” I said and licked my spoon. “Because I just assumed we were starting one.”

“You assumed?”

“You agreed to go out with me.”

She shifted so her body was facing me. “I did not agree. I was coerced into it. There’s a difference.”

“So, this is the modern-day Beauty and the Beast, just without the kidnapping. Hey, wasn’t that your favorite movie as a kid?” I pointed the spoon at her.

“What does that have to do with this?”

“Nothing. It just came to mind. Was it?”

“Yes, but—”

“Now, you’re Belle. Coerced into dating me. You’re lucky I have a great sense of humor and an even better cock. And way less hairy than Beast.”

She blinked at me. “I don’t know how to respond to that.”

“You could agree.” I grinned.

“No. I don’t think you need the ego boost, in all honesty. And you’re taking this conversation off-track. Don’t think I’m going to let you get away with saying I agreed to date you.”

“All right, I won’t say it. But I will say that you happily invited me to your bed with ice-cream.”

“And I’ll tell everyone I promptly followed that up by considering kicking you out and replacing you with the ice-cream.”

“Most people would probably be more horrified that you threatened it and didn’t do it. I’d rather sleep with ice-cream than with me.” I shrugged a shoulder and pulled out another chunk of the chocolate treat.

She snatched the tub back. “Stop abusing my ice-cream, you savage.”

“Are you still in a relationship with it, or are you and I back on?”

“I never said we were on.”

“Your denial of everything makes me ridiculously happy.”

Chloe’s brows drew together in a frown. “Why does me refusing to admit to being in a relationship with you make you happy?”

“Because, when you eventually admit it, I’ll be right. And I’m pretty fond of being right.” I grinned. “So, you may as well just admit it now.”

“And make you right?”

“Get it over and done with. What? Are you gonna marry me and never admit to being a relationship with me?”

“Who said I was going to marry you?” Her voice was close to a shriek.

I put the ice-cream on the side and leaned back against the headboard. “Well, you’re getting a little close to thirty now, and time isn’t on your side.”

She stared at me incredulously. “If you’re trying to win me over, you’re not doing very well.”

Fuck. It was hard not to laugh. “I mean, your tits won’t be this perky forever. Are they as lively as they used to be?”

Her jaw dropped.

“And your ass won’t always be this free of cellulite. Never mind going gray. I mean, I’m willing to take all this on as a part of you, but—”

“Asshole!” She laughed, launching herself at me. She punched me in the arm and, laughing, I moved away from her and off the bed. She jumped off it, coming after me. I ran around the other side of the bed, holding out my hands.

“Careful. There’s still no life insurance policy. You don’t wanna beat me up too bad.”

Chloe narrowed her eyes. “I could kill you right now, but I do want to benefit from your death.”

“Which is why you’re an excellent businesswoman. Terrible girlfriend, but great at your job.”

“I’m not your girlfriend.”

“Chloe. We both know you’re my girlfriend. At least, you will be tomorrow morning after you’ve had my pancakes.”

She paused, dropping her fists. “You can make pancakes?”

“Yeah,” I said slowly. “It’s not hard.”

“Huh. I can never get those right,” she mused. “But I’m still not your girlfriend.”

“And your tits still aren’t getting any perkier.”

“Jerkface!” She jumped on the bed and, once again, threw herself at me.

This time, I was able to catch her.

I grabbed hold of her as she pummeled my shoulders with her fists.

“Put me down!” she shouted.

“No.” I spun and dropped onto the bed, bringing her with me. She shrieked, grabbing my shoulders instead of punching them.

I much preferred the grabbing. She had one hell of a right hand, even when she was punching me like a three-year-old.

“Why did you do that?” she demanded. She flattened her hands on the bed either side of my head and looked down at me. Her hair fell forward around her face, tickling me on the cheek.

“It made you stop hitting me, didn’t it?” I asked, eyebrow quirked.

“Can I carry on now?”

“No.”

“Will you let me go then?”

“No. Not until you admit that you’re my girlfriend.”

“You sound very high school,” she muttered.

I rolled us over so she was below me. I straddled her, grabbing her hands and pinning her to the bed so that she couldn’t wriggle away from me. “Admit it.”

“No.”

“We both know it’s going to happen.”

“Real cocky for a guy who has to pin me down and coerce me into dates.”

“I told you earlier. I’m fine with playing dirty.” I gave her a lopsided grin and leaned down, bringing my face closer to hers. “Plus, you and I both know you’re just being awkward. I know just how long you’ve been in love with me, Chloe Collins.”

“Do you, now? And how did you find that out?” She tilted her chin up.

“Peyton has a big mouth.”

“Gonna kill her,” she muttered.

I snorted, sliding my hands over hers and linking our fingers. “You’re gonna get one hell of a jail sentence.”

“It’ll be worth it.”

I smiled, looking into her eyes. “Just admit it, Chlo. You’re hopelessly in love with me, and there’s no chance in hell that you’re going to walk away from giving us a chance.”

“I’ll give you the first one,” she said softly. “I am pretty screwed where my emotions are concerned regarding you.”

“That’s the nicest way anyone has ever told me they love me. You should write romance.”

Her lips twitched, and her eyes twinkled for a moment before she tilted her head to the side and let out a giggle. “I’m not entirely sure I would be good at that. I mean, it took me twenty-seven years to get to this point.”

“On the plus side, you are a pro at being in love. That’s some practice you’ve had.”

She pursed her lips. “You’re not exactly a love virgin yourself, are you? You’ve been in love with me for at least ten years.”

“Who told you—” I stopped. “Never mind. I think I can probably guess it was Peyton.”

She nodded. “She has a big mouth. I guess she got the mouth and you got the ego.”

“Well, could you imagine if she had both? She’d be a nightmare.”

“As opposed to the delight she currently is.” Chloe snorted. “Can you let me up now?”

“No.” I flexed my fingers between hers. “Not until you give me what I want.”

“Well,” she said, “I can’t give you a blow job if I’m up here and your cock is down there.”

Hmm. Tempting.

“As great as that sounds, that’s not what I mean.” I dipped my head and kissed just beneath her ear. She drew in a short, sharp breath, and I knew.

This was how to break her down.

To admit what she already knew.

That despite all her fighting, she was mine. There were no two ways about it. She’d been mine for years.

At least her heart had been mine, just like it was right now.

“Admit it,” I murmured against her skin. “You’re mine, Chloe. You know it. You’re fighting the inevitable.” I kissed along her jaw until my lips reached the corner of her mouth. “Just give in.”

“Never,” she whispered.

“Fine, awkward one,” I said, kissing her jaw again. “But I’m yours. Me. My heart. And all my lost keys.”

She groaned. “And that’s a lot of keys.”

“At least ten in the last two years. And now…” I looked her in the eye. “You get to witness me lose them forever. Aren’t you lucky?”

“We have different meanings for the word lucky,” she replied. “Do you really think we can make this work?”

“I know we can,” I said honestly. “Is it gonna be easy? No. Are we gonna fight? Hopefully. The more we fight, the more make-up sex we get.”

“That is promising,” she mused.

“More than anything, I want to make it work. And I know you do, too, or you wouldn’t even be here entertaining it right now.” I released her hand and brushed hair from her face. “Am I perfect? No. Am I gonna piss you off? Sure. But, Chlo? That’s no different to the relationship we have right now. The only difference is that now, we know we love each other. We didn’t have that before.”

“If you’re trying to tell me that you losing your keys is going to turn into something cute instead of insufferably annoying, you’re very wrong,” she warned me.

“Is there not even a hint of a chance with that?”

“Not a chance in hell.”

“I’m okay with you shouting at me for that.”

“I’d be more okay if you tried to not lose them in the first place.”

I grinned. “I can work on that,” I said.

She looked at me, lips pursed, but I knew she was agreeing. I could see it in her eyes. “I guess I can work on my temper.”

“Does that mean you’ll give me the chance to—shock horror—explain myself?” I gasped, pressing my hand to my chest.

She hit me. “You’re not starting this well, Dom.”

“Starting? Does that mean I win? I’ve worn you down?”

“Actually, I think I just want you to shut up about it,” she teased, half-grinning. “That, and I have a teenage girl inside throwing a party,” she added.

I couldn’t help the grin that stretched across my face. “So, you’re agreeing to be my girlfriend?”

“I’ll agree officially when you’ve made me pancakes.”

“Is that because you can’t make them?”

“Hey,” she said, raising her eyebrows. “Food matters. I like pancakes. You can make pancakes. I’m not against letting food make the final choice for me.”

“That sounds a hell of a lot like something I’d say. Maybe you really are the perfect girl for me.”

“Stop being nice. You’re scaring me.”

I laughed and brushed my lips over hers. “I promise to revert to annoying you in the morning.”

“Thank you. I think keeping our relationship just as it is might be the success to this after all.”

“I completely agree,” I murmured, lowering my lips to hers.

She wrapped her free arm around my neck and kissed me back, flicking her tongue against the seam of my lips. I let go of her hand, and that arm joined her other, pulling me right down against her so I couldn’t escape.

Pancakes my ass.

She was mine, and she knew it.

And my God, we were going to make this work.

No matter what.