Page 102 of 4th Degree

That feeling multiplies tenfold when I hear the creak of Dominic coming up the stairs.

When he appears, he has a mug of coffee in one hand and a plate in the other, piled high with scrambled eggs and avocado toast. But I barely notice any of that, because I can’t take my attention off of the man himself.

He’s shirtless, every one of his mouth-watering muscles on display from the waist up. I’m so glad he doesn’t train shirtless at the gym because there’s not a doubt in my mind that I wouldn’t be able to focus if he did.

Although, that focus is nowhere to be found right now, either. Because the man is barefoot and wearing sweatpants. This casual look is enough to make me combust as is, but add in the coffee mug and breakfast plate, and this relaxed, domesticated version of him is beyond intoxicating.

When he sees me and smiles, my heart stutters its next beat. And I realize that I’ve fallen completely in love with this man.

Maybe it’s because he was such an incredible support yesterday—caring and helpful, but without being overwhelming. Maybe it’s because my conversation with my mom eliminated the last of my guilt over being happy.

Maybe it’s because of the way he’s looking at me right now.

Whatever it is, the full force of the emotion hits me. And it doesn’t feel stifling, or heavy, the way I always thought it would.

It feels like a warm blanket—comforting and protective.

And just like every other time I’m in Dominic’s presence, the tension I live with leaves my body, to be replaced by more happiness than I ever thought I was capable of.

“Morning,” he greets in a deep, sleep-roughened voice.

“Hi,” I respond with a giddy smile. When I push myself to sit up, I wince at the soreness in my muscles.

Dominic chuckles as he places everything on the nightstand beside me. “Yeah, I figured you’d be sore.” He leans over to press a sweet kiss to my lips. “Don’t worry, I’ll give you a massage after breakfast.”

My body warms at the thought. “Something tells me I’ll end up sore in other places if you do that.”

He looks like a naughty teenager when he grins and says, “Guilty.”

He hands me my coffee and takes a seat on the bed beside me. When I take a sip, I’m not surprised to realize it’s exactly how I like it: strong, with a splash of creamer and too much sugar. In typical Dominic fashion, he silently memorized my coffee preference.

“So how long do I have you for today?” he asks, pulling me from my swooning thoughts.

I take another sip before I answer. “I have to leave at noon. I want to check in with Joey, but I also told Mom we’d hang out before I go into work at the restaurant tonight.”

Dominic nods, his hand starting to caress my thigh. The corner of his lip twitches with a grin as he says, “Joey blew up my phone yesterday. He was pissed he couldn’t get off work, and he wanted to know every detail of your match, but he didn’t want to bother you with it.”

I startle and turn toward Dominic. “What? Really? Since when do you two have each other’s numbers?”

“I gave it to him when he got the job at the pizza place. I wanted him to have it in case he needed it.” He doesn’t look at me when he says it, which gives away more than his words do. He wanted to be able to help if something happened with Mom or with me.

He wanted to stay close enough to take care of me. Of us.

I place a hand on his arm to signal my answer. That I know him well enough to know he’s not doing it because he thinks I can’t—he’s doing it because he cares.

“I’m glad Joey feels like he can rely on you,” I say softly.

I feel the tension leave his muscles. He gives me a relieved smile, his hand landing on my thigh and caressing my skin. “You’re a good daughter, Skylar,” he says. “And sister. Your family is lucky to have you.”

My throat constricts from the weight of emotions. He must sense how hard it hits me because his expression softens when he looks at me.

“I’m really glad I got to meet your mom last night. I’m glad your family knows about us.” He pauses, searching my eyes and making my stomach flip. “I want more people to know about us.”

Suddenly, my throat tightens for a whole other reason. “You want to tell other people about us?”

He never looks away from me. He just nods. He doesn’t look scared by the idea.

“Are you honestly ready to go public at the gym?” I ask, a little incredulously.

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