Page 11 of Velvet Varnish
He nods and leads me to the lounge, hands me the shirt—which is as soft as it looks—and takes me down a different hallway. He nudges a door open across from the bathroom andflicks the light on. I follow cautiously, clutching the shirt, head throbbing from the change of emotions.
The room is decorated in gentle greens with the duvet a dark forest colour. It’s similar to my room, but this feels cosier, which is all kinds of unfair. I don’t have it in me to truly enjoy the room.
“There’s a bathroom through there.” He points to the left. “You can use anything you find. I’ll see you in the morning.”
He ducks out of the room and leaves the door open behind him. To check on me maybe. Not that I need checking. I’m fine except for my bruised ego, a slight headache, and a throbbing hand. Okay, maybe I’m not fine, but at least the room’s soothing. It smells fresh, with a hint of cedar, and I breathe in deeply to take the comforting scent into my lungs. It doesn’t help my burning nose or blurry eyes, but it’s something.
The bathroom is a warm grey colour, but showering sounds exhausting after tonight. Instead, I splash my face with water while attempting to keep the gauze dry, which I fail at, and find a random moisturiser to put on my face and change out of my jeans into the soft shirt. When it hits my skin, I can’t contain my sigh. I may not understand Dom right now, but his scent soothes me and takes some of the emotional ache away. But not all of it.
I turn the lights off but leave the bedside one on and get under the covers.
I jump when Dom knocks on the door and pushes it open quietly. “I thought you’d want this.” He’s holding one of my favourite books and a knife stabs my heart. Why did he buy all of them when he doesn’t even want me?
“Thanks.”
Dom comes into the room and sets it on the bedside table. He hovers over me, but when I don’t say anything else, he turns for the door. “If you need anything, I’ll be on the couch.”
My smile is strained as I watch him leave. As I go over what he said in my head, I narrow my eyes. Why would he sleep on the couch? There’s another door across the hall, which I assumed was a guest bedroom. Is it a storage closet? Unless…
Am I in his room?
A glance around the room confirms all the details I missed earlier. The drawers to the right have the charcoal hoodie he wears on top of it and there’s a pair of socks beside the laundry hamper as if he threw it from the bathroom and missed, and the shower had an assortment of products. This is his room.I’m in his bed.
My legs swing out of the covers. I’ll sleep on the couch. He shouldn’t have to sleep on the couch because of me. My eyes catch on the book. But it’s hardly my fault he put me here, besides we could’ve shared the bed. Slowly, I get back under the covers and inhale deeply, taking his scent into my body. I don’t know what state I’ll find him in on the couch. Would he be in his boxers, already asleep, or would he be awake reading?
I grab the book. The cover is fresh, the spine unbroken. He bought this for me and has a collection of books I’ve spoken to him about, but he pulled away from me. Refused to kiss me. Said I wasn’t in my right mind. What does that even mean?
Was it because of everything that happened at the bar, or does he only see me as a friend? I’d taken the opportunity presented and ran with it.
Maybe the books on the shelves were favourites of his friends. Each shelf could be for a different friend. Although I know there won’t be a shelf for Lachlan, he prefers sitcoms.
Dom’s never acted like he has feelings for me—except for tonight. I put the book down without reading it and roll to my side. Maybe I read him wrong. He kissed me back, but what if he didn’t want to and was looking for the first moment to shove me off him? My eyes widen. Did I assault him?
No. No, he stopped it when he got uncomfortable and I left him alone as soon as he asked.
I chew on my cuticles, the bad habit I had as a child returning with a vengeance. I’ll apologise to him tomorrow and we can go back to being normal. Forget the kiss as long as we can still be friends and bury my feelings until they disappear, if that’s what he wants. My back turns on the book and I close my eyes.
5
DOM
The door clicks shutbehind me quietly so I don’t wake Isla. I left the bedroom door open last night and ducked my head through the doorway this morning to check on her. Had my alarm set early to make sure she was all right. She was sound asleep, wrapped in my covers, surrounded by my things. It cleared the fog in my head from the early start and I couldn’t contain the swell of satisfaction, but I didn’t want to wake her. Last night was difficult. She earned her sleep. Instead, I decide to buy us breakfast. We need to talk about last night and it doesn’t seem like the conversation you have over cereal.
I jog down the stairs and slam my car door shut. I’m desperately trying not to think about how her soft lips pressed against mine, tongue sweeping in while I clutched her hips. All it does is send hope through me and thicken my cock.
Thankfully, when I arrive at Deja Brew I’ve gotten myself under control and don’t need to wait in the car until I’m fit for society. The last thing I need is gossip on The Esplanade about my dick.
The coffee shop’s warm and smells of cinnamon.
“Dom?” a shocked voice comes from behind the counter.
“Lily. Where’s the morning rush?” There are a few people sitting at tables, but there isn’t the usual line of people waiting for her coffee.
“You arrived before it. We only just opened.” She wipes her hands on her apron.
That would explain her shocked expression. Usually I sleep later, but I couldn’t stop thinking about Isla in my bed and finally being in my home. I spent a restless night checking on her, worried she’d leave, or the events of the night would hit her all at once. I could’ve slept in the guest bedroom, but was worried I’d miss her if she walked through the lounge and needed anything.
I shrug. “Could I get a latte and iced coffee with some of the cinnamon buns, please?” The girl at the till rings it up while Lily starts on the order.