Page 94 of PS: I Hate You

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Page 94 of PS: I Hate You

Chapter

Twenty-Seven

“I’m not going to kiss you.”

Dom freezes facing the door he just finished closing. I’ve shocked him.

Maybe. I don’t know.

And that’s the problem with Dom. I never know. These past few hours, I’ve been trying to figure out if Dom is attracted to me.

When I stepped over the threshold to our room, I settled on an important realization.

It’s not my job to figure it out.

It’s Dom’s.

Dom needs to decide if he’s hot for me. Then it’s his job to tell me that.

“You’re not going to kiss me,” he repeats. Dom faces me, expression unreadable. As usual.

“Nope. To clarify, Iwillparticipate if kissing occurs.”

His brows dip. “How does that clarify things?”

I plop onto the daybed, bouncing on the squeaky springs. “Here. I’ll simplify it even more.” From across the room, I hold his gaze with mine. I do not cower or shy away. I do not rely on alcohol to make me brave. I do not guess or hope. I simply ask, “Dom, do you want to fuck me?”

Shit. I meant to say “kiss.”

Really, I did. I swear!

But also, I would like the answer to the question I asked, too.

Dom’s thick brows creep up and there’s a touch of slackness around his mouth.

There’s also silence.

Maybe it’s a count of five. Maybe it’s a count of fifty. There are no accurate or inaccurate clocks in my eyeline for me to measure the passage of time.

All I know is I reach the point where his silence becomes an answer.

“Got it.” I veer my stare toward the window, focusing on the snow and wishing we had separate rooms.

“Maddie.” The mattress dips as Dom settles at my side, which is annoying because he could easilynotput his tempting body right next to mine as he rejects me.

Again.

What’s this, number four? Will I ever learn?

“Dom.” I mock his low voice because I will never be a fully mature adult.

“Look at me.”

“Nah. I’m good.”

Lies. I’m not good at all. Even when I’m trying to keep an emotional wall between Dom and me, I still find a way to leave myself vulnerable to his rejection. When the lights go out, I’m definitely sneaking downstairs to sleep on the couch.

“Maddie—”




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