He shifts again, and his fingers curl around the inside of my knee, like he’s holding me to him.
I expect him to wake up, but he doesn’t. And his breathing doesn’t change.
I take a deep, slow inhale, and I make my muscles relax.
Just lean in, Val.
Taking Dom’s words literally, I tip my head to the side.
My cheek meets the top of his head, the short length tickling my skin.
The feeling is so nice, so pleasant, that I nuzzle against him.
I rub my cheek back and forth, and it feels just as good as I knew it would.
Dominic lets out another tiny moan, and I freeze, keeping my cheek where it is against his head.
But that’s all he does. So I stay there, just like that, resting against a man I met at the airport who is asleep against my shoulder.
And I feel…
My chest tightens as emotions swarm my senses.
I feel kinda happy.
No, that’s not even right. I feel happy. Like a real level of happy.
But then my throat squeezes, and my eyes sting. Because this is fleeting. I know it’s fleeting. And if I focus on it, it’ll disappear right in front of me.
Out of nowhere, I’m reminded of a video I saw once. It was of a raccoon with a handful of cotton candy. He looked so happy to have it, but then he put it into a puddle, because raccoons sometimes wash their food, and it dissolved. And the look on his face…
I sniff.
Fuck.
He looked so sad and so confused, and just thinking about that stupid video is sending me over the edge. Because I’m that raccoon. And Dominic is my cotton candy. And if I pretend like he’s mine, if I act like I can keep him, then when that reality dissolves, it’s going to ruin me.
I let my eyes close.
I won’t fall asleep. I’m too aware of where I am, who I’m with, to do that.
Plus, I don’t want to miss a moment of this feeling. No matter how fleeting.
The credits are rolling when Dominic starts to stir. My eyes have been closed, but feeling him shift, I slide them open.
I’m grateful he stayed asleep for so long. Grateful I had time to get my raging emotions under control. And in that time, I was able to remind myself that we exchanged numbers. Or, more specifically, Dominic took my phone and entered his number after sending himself mine.
I’m not under any delusions that we’re going to date. But maybe, just maybe, we’ll see each other again.
And that has to be enough.
The warm fingers gripping my thigh flex, and Dom makes a deeper humming sound before his scratchy, sleepy voice speaks. “Well, this is a nice surprise.”
My hands are hidden under his suit jacket that I’ve continued to use as a blanket, but I flex them in my lap in response.
“Guess I should add human pillow to my resume,” I joke.
The weight against my shoulder increases before Dom lifts his head. “I’d hire you.”
A small chuckle builds in my throat, but it gets caught when Dom moves his fingers a half inch higher before sliding his hand back toward himself, dragging a line of heat across the top of my knee.
Thank you, earlier self, for deciding to shave your legs this morning. Also, extra thank you for using that awesome anti-rub cream on your inner thighs today rather than the usual hideous bike shorts.
Not that Dom is going to see my underwear, but at least I don’t have to worry about unattractive shorts peeking out from under my dress.
I swallow and force my eyes up. “Guess you were tired.”
“Guess so.” He drags a hand down his face before narrowing one eye at me. “Or maybe you drugged me.”
I snort. “You’ve found me out. I’m not really a web designer. I’m actually a drug lord.”
He huffs out a laugh, one side of his mouth pulling up. “Drug lord? Do they still call them that?”
My lips part, then I shrug. “I didn’t say I was good at it.”
The other side of his mouth lifts until he’s smiling at me. “I like you, Valentine Gandy.”
I dip my chin, putting my nose against the collar of the jacket in my lap.
That hand moves back across the armrest until his palm is on my knee again. “Don’t leave me hanging, Shorty.”
I tip my head to the side so he can see my exasperated expression. “I guess I like you, too, Big Guy.”
“That’s more like it.” Dom rolls his neck one way, then the next. “How much longer in this sardine can?”
“I’m not sure, but…” I wince in apology. “Can you let me out? I need to go to the bathroom.”
“I think I can manage that,” Dom says as he unbuckles his seat belt.