I take a sip of my beer. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure.”
“Do they…am I?” I shake my head, frustrated. These are clingy chick questions.
“They?” She reads my face, my posture. “Ah, oh, okay, I got you,” she says through a laugh.
I just told my secret, in a look, with a single stuttered sentence. A part of me is relieved, the other is horrified I spilled it so easily. I’m not good at this, not at all.
In truth, I’m relieved. I’ve been bursting at the seams for a little female perspective, other than my own.
Layla isn’t close to me, so this is as good as it can get. She taps the bottom of my cup, encouraging me to drink. I take a hearty sip and exhale.
“Okay, first of all, don’t freak out, I’m no saint. Not by a long shot. Second, I’m the vault. Whatever, and I mean whatever, you tell me will never, ever reach anyone else. That’s code. But let’s get some distance to make sure I’m the only one who hears it.” She walks me over to the abandoned side of the garage, where everyone is out of earshot.
I’m still unsure of what questions I truly want to ask. She helps me by speaking up. “Sean is an open book in a sense. He’s going to be honest with you, about everything he can, even if it hurts. And you won’t have to do too much to try to read into him. Dom, well, he’s a different story. He’s both bark and bite and trust me—you don’t want to be on the receiving end of either one. But he’s got heart, and we’ve all glimpsed it at least once, but rarely twice. He’s literally the male version of Fort Knox, a born loner.”
I sip my beer and she tilts her head. “What do you really want to ask me?”
“Am I just another…” one. Just another one. But I can’t bring myself to say it.
“That I can’t tell you, but from what I’ve seen, the house has been quiet lately.”
“Quiet?”
“Dom has been quiet and so has the traffic in his bedroom.” She grins at me. “It started right after the party.”
Faithful. She means faithful. To me? Before he even had an idea if there was an us? Does it matter?
The tug in my chest tells me it does.
“Try not to dwell on it, but look,” she pulls me over to the edge of the garage and scans the gathering. “How many women do you see?”
I examine the crowd, silently counting. Four, five, and the two of us amongst the twenty or so.
“There’s a reason you’re here.” The serious lilt in her tone has me searching her face, though I can’t see much due to where we’re standing. “And there’s a time and a place for fraternization and it’s definitely not on meetup nights.”
“Meetup nights?”
“You’ll see. But do yourself a favor and keep your wits about you, even though it will be hard. Especially with those two distractions.”
I nod and she laughs. “Lighten up, girl, it’s a party and you have the attention of two of the finest brothers. Come on.”
We’re in the midst of crossing the gravel walk when a rumble sounds at the mouth of the driveway and headlights shroud us in light. Bass rumbles from the sleek black car as my eyes drift to the driver. Dominic’s gaze paralyzes me, making me a literal deer in his headlights. He greets me by the twitch of his lips, his eyes sweeping me.
“Damn, to go back to the beginning again,” Layla sighs wistfully. “I envy you.”
Dominic stays in his car and with another rev of his engine the party disperses. Shortly after, engines fire up in every direction.
“Go with him,” Sean speaks up joining me where I stand. I glance his way, frowning.
“With him?”
He presses a kiss to my temple. “I’ll see you there. And don’t you dare smudge that fucking lipstick. That’s for me.”
I nod as he saunters off and round Dominic’s Camaro. He leans over and pushes open the heavy door. The minute it’s closed, I turn to him.
“He—” my greeting is cut short as we burst out of the parking lot, my laughter filtering out of the car. The hint of a smile unmistakable on his lips as the cars speed out, following us, and Dominic unleashes every bit of horsepower under the hood. Braced with one hand on the dash and the other on the car door, I squeal as we tear down the road.
This only seems to fuel him as he races down the straightaway for a mile or two before he slows considerably, taking turns, tracing every curve of the road.
I turn the radio down and he glances at me. “Are we ever going to have a real conversation?”