Page 62 of Restore Me

I bite back a bitter laugh and mix in the creamer. Term of endearment, my ass. It’s not a nickname or some cute epithet used in the fit of passion when you don’t want to ruin the moment by calling the woman you’re balls deep in the wrong name. I call her my angel because that’s what she is to me.

The promise of God’s love in human form, a treasure from heaven walking here on Earth making the lives of every person she meets better. And that’s what she’s always been, even when her presence chafed against my skin and burned a hole in my heart.

All of those thoughts fly through my mind, mixing with thoughts of the night we met. In all the time I dreamed about being with Sloane, I never considered how hard it would be to suppress the relentless memories that want to spill out of me. The need to make her remember is a pounding beneath my collarbone, a demand that builds with every beat of my heart, but she’s not ready.

I shrug, turning my gaze back on her. “Just seemed fitting.”

Her lips part, but before she can say anything the sound of her doorbell ringing echoes around us. Surprise laced with panic has Sloane’s eyes stretching wide. It would be comical if she didn’t look so afraid. Indignation unfurls in my gut, stoked by the disappointment of having my morning with Sloane interrupted.

Whoever is at her door can go to hell in a hand basket. For interrupting us and for putting that look on Sloane’s face.

“Shit.” Sloane hisses, jumping up from her seat. “I forgot Mal and I were taking Mama to breakfast today.” Wide eyes flick from the door to me and back again. “Where did you park?”

I take a sip of my coffee, and Sloane’s eyes nearly pop out of her head. “In your driveway, like the rest of your guests.”

My voice is even. I’m going for nonchalance because if I start freaking out it will only add to the terror gripping her. The doorbell sounds again and all of the color drains from her face.

“Oh my, God.” She turns to me. Hopelessness creeping into the corners of her eyes. “Mal can’t find you here, Dominic. She can’t know about this. She’ll think….she’ll hate me.”

The last part is a broken whisper that etches itself into my skin and jump-starts the ferocious beast in my chest that exists for the sole purpose of destroying everything and everyone that’s ever put that look on her face.

“Sloane, look at me.” I keep my voice soft, gripping her chin to force her to focus on my calm expression. “It’s going to be okay. Go let Mal in and act like everything is normal.”

Skepticism pulls her brows together. “But…”

“Just trust me, okay?”

She nods, setting the cup on the island with shaky hands before smoothing over her dress. Then she’s moving towards the door with leaden feet. While she’s taking the world’s slowest trek across her hardwood floors, I head over to the sink with my cup and spoon. Pouring out the coffee and rinsing the cup quickly while Sloane calls that she’s coming.

I see her stuffing the thong and dress we left in a heap by her door in a basket where she keeps pillows and throw blankets as I duck under her kitchen sink and start fiddling around with nothing at all.

Less than a minute goes by before I hear Mal and Sloane heading back into the kitchen. Mal’s tone is animated while Sloane’s is more reserved, and I silently curse myself for not considering the ramifications of parking in her driveway last night knowing full well Mal makes a habit of showing up here without calling or texting in advance.

“Why is Nic’s car in your driveway?” Mal is asking now.

“Uh…” Sloane hesitates, leaving an awkward and suspicious gap in the already stilted conversation.

“Because,” I say, making a show of closing the kitchen cabinets and standing. Sloane looks even more panicked than her voice suggested. “Someone thinks us being friends makes me her on-call plumber. She called me at the crack of dawn complaining about a leak in her kitchen sink, and I came over.”

Mal scrunches up her nose at me. “In the clothes you were wearing last night? Please, don’t tell me you spent the night at Kristen’s again, Nic. I thought y’all were done.”

Shit. I forgot about my clothes.

“Yeah,” I say, rubbing my neck. “We were. I mean, we still are. Last night was just a one-time thing.”

Sloane’s eyes flash, a furious and brilliant spark of anger and jealousy that I feel in my groin. I meant what I said last night: jealousy looks good on her. She sits back down at the counter and sips her coffee to hide it, but I still see it. And it makes me hard.

Mal rolls her eyes. “Yeah, yeah. You say that now, but that woman doesn’t want to let you go. Every time you give her the D, you encourage her. Tell him, Sloane.”

“Right.” Sloane’s shoulders go back, and her eyes land everywhere but on mine. “You shouldn’t encourage her, Dominic.”

There it is again. Possession coating the delicate lilt of her voice, curling into the air and wrapping right around my balls. They tighten fiercely in response, and I’m glad I’m standing behind the island where neither of the women in the room can see what’s happening in my pants. I have to get out of here.

“Well, I think I’ve got the leak taken care of, so I’m going to head out.”

“Thanks for the help, Dominic,” Sloane says, finally looking at me.

Mal smiles, her eyes bouncing between the two of us with fascination. “Wow. I can’t believe you two are friends. Eric would be so happy to see you getting along.”

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