Page 9 of Velvet Varnish
“Through the door to the right. Are you okay?”
“Fine,” she says too brightly and leaves the lounge.
My groan is loud in the quiet room, and I drop my head in my hands, tugging at my hair. Why did I do that? I couldn’t have waited and spoken to her, or asked if she would be interested in me? No, apparently when she’s in my flat all thought leaves my head and I jump ahead of myself. Probably scaring her, so she never wants to see me again.
I don’t know how long she takes in the bathroom. I stay where I am, straining to hear if she’s all right and needs anything.
When she returns, she has a small frown on her beautiful face and is avoiding my gaze. Isla stands by the couch but stops before sitting. Her eyes lock on one of the bookshelves. I turn my head to see what she’s looking at and feel my cheeks grow warm, my heart pounding in my chest as I catch sight of the shelf her eyes are focused on.
“What’s that?”
4
ISLA
“What is it?”I repeat. My eyes stay on the bookshelf as I walk closer to see if I’m imaging it or if my eyesight’s finally going. I jerk back when Dom launches himself in front of the shelf, concealing the titles from me. “Let me see.”
“It’s just books,” he croaks out.
I tilt my head to the side, attempting to read the titles, but he follows me. My brows raise. “Are you going to move?” He drags a hand across his jaw and nods slightly. He steps aside and I move closer to the shelf. I inhale sharply and run a finger across the spines. “How do you have all these?”
He shrugs. “I bought them in case you ever needed them. If you were here and forgot a book and wanted something to read… I wanted you to have options.”
My eyes are wide and disbelieving as I stare at him numbly. I’ve never been to his flat before, but he’s taken the time and money to curate a bookshelf full of titles I recommended and told him I loved. Romances I know he didn’t enjoy, and fantasy books he said he hadn’t read.
They’re all here.
On the off chance I happened to be in his flat and wanted to read something. He’s nestled my books between his mysteries, as if he’s been waiting for me to arrive.
Why am I not panicking? Should I be panicking?
He remembered the titles and managed to find them, but all I can think about is how much time it took him. Can imagine him in a bookstore purchasing a romance novel he knows I love, taking it to the counter and finding space in his home for it. My throat closes and my vision blurs.
He’d done all this.For me.
“I’m sorry. You can take them home. Please don’t cry.” His hands cup my cheeks, hesitantly swiping away tears as they fall.
I brush his hands away, and he takes a step back. But I follow him and wrap my arms around his chest, holding him tight, crying into his T-shirt. His arms wrap around me, loosely at first, but the longer I hold him, the tighter he holds me. I sigh and rub my face on his chest, and he rests his head against my hair. I don’t even know why I’m crying. The adrenaline from the night finally leaving me, the possibility of him caring for me shocking my system, the books on the shelf, or a combination of it all bringing the emotion out. Either way, it means Dom’s holding me. Which is where I want to be.
My head lifts so I can see him. “You bought them all? For me?”
“I didn’t want you to be bored if you were ever here.”
“I’m never bored with you.”
His throat bobs. “It means you’ll have something to read tonight.”
“I can’t believe you. I’ve never been here before, but you have all this.” I gesture behind me. “Why?” I need him to say the words. Hoping for it, and friends telling me he cares for me, is entirely different from him admitting it.
“Books make you happy.” He rubs my cheek.
His greyish eyes are soft and cautious as he touches me, and I take a leap of faith. “You make me happy.”
“I do?” He shuffles closer to me, his thick chest pressing against me.
“Yes. I love books, but spending time with you is my favourite part of the month.” My heart beats loudly in my ears from my confession.
Dom lowers his head and I press up on my toes, clutching his shirt with my good hand to tug him closer. Our lips crash together and I gasp. I yank him close and wrap an arm around his shoulders to keep him there. He hauls me flush against him, lifting me off my feet as he walks backwards. My tongue darts out to taste him, mapping out his lips, diving into him while I have the opportunity.