Page 46 of Ruined
“Where’d you go?” I asked.
“Wherever I could. Slept in subway stations, crashed on park benches, stayed in those twenty-four-hour diners sometimes. Did what I had to until I got back on my feet.”
“Your family left you out like that?” I frowned and asked a stupid question. “Why?”
“Guess,sweetheart.”
Point taken.
“I didn’t fit into my dad’s picture-perfect plan. Guess he thought I’d crawl back, begging to be his puppet. Joke’s on him, though.”
“Guess you don’t need much to get by.”
“I don’t. That’s why I’m not judging this place. It’s got a roof and a bed. That’s more than I had back then.”
For once, he didn’t sound like a complete asshole.
Dominic sighed. “I do have my limits, though. I’m ordering an espresso machine. That drip thing you’ve got is a crime.”
“Renovate the whole place while you’re at it.”
“Don’t tempt me,” he said, his baritone rumbling through the cushions. “For now, I’ll start with a decent coffee run. What do you want from Starbucks?”
I raised a brow. “The boss is getting me coffee now?”
“Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve gone out of my way for you.” He winked at me, and my mouth went dry.
“Black, no sugar.”
Dominic chuckled. “Always so tough.”
He pushed himself off the couch. Then he grabbed his coat and pulled it on, heading to the door. “Be back soon. Try not to miss me too much.”
He headed out, shutting the door.
Damn him.
TWELVE
LUCA
The worst part of getting stabbed wasn’t pain.
It was Dominic Caruso playing nurse, because he’d taken the opportunity to make himself at home. He took over the closet with his fancy clothes, every hanger filled with pressed shirts and jackets. When I bitched about it, he grinned like bringing his entire wardrobe did me a favor. He’d been at it in the kitchen too, reorganizing everything from the coffee mugs to the spice rack.
And he sang.
Loudly and often. It started on the third morning before I’d cracked my eyes open. The water turned on, and his voice echoed through the door. He was annoyingly good.
“Do you have to be so loud?” I shouted from the bed.
The water shut off, and so did the singing.
Great. He finally takes the hint.
Dominic emerged from the bathroom, buttoning his shirt. “You don’t like my singing?”
A pulse throbbed at the base of my throat. I swallowed, and my eyes drifted, lingering on the hard lines of his body as he slowly fastened each button. The shirt hung open, giving me a full view of his toned chest.