“Should we go . . . hide?” Fitch asked.
I buzzed Dominic through and shook my head. “Nah, it’s fine.”
I should have texted Dominic during the day. I should have let him know I was okay.
I was sure Dominic would, after the initial shock, probably laugh at me. This last weekend was so wildly out of character for me. Me, Mr strait-laced, goody two shoes had spent the last few days holed up with a hooker after a very close call with my car.
We’d be laughing about this over drinks at 180 next week, I was sure of it.
Plus, I’d be lying if I said part of me didn’t want someone to know of the crazy sex-filled ordeal.
I opened the door as Dom was knockingon it, surprising him a little. “Hey. So, you are alive,” he said, walking in. “Two days off in a row and...”
His words trailed off and he stared at the two guys sitting at my dining table.
That wasn’t even the craziest part.
Because Fitch stood up, eyes wide, and he began to smile. “Dom,” he said.
“Fitch,” Dom whispered. Then he turned to me, shock clear on his face. “What the fuck is going on?”
EIGHT
BENJI
I hadno clue who Dom was. He was mid-forties at a guess and handsome in a way that wealth allowed—a fitted, tailored suit and expensive shoes. He seemed kinda familiar, like maybe I’d seen him on Oxford or Wylde Street...
Oh.
The man who had led Nolan away from me and shoved him into the exclusive club 180.
Fitch clearly knew him.
The way he’d stood up as soon as Dom walked in. Obviously one of his regulars, or a favourite at least.
Dom didn’t seem pleased at all to see Fitch. Well, not Fitch himself. He wasn’t pleased to see Fitch at Nolan’s.
Nolan closed his door and sighed as he walked into his kitchen. “Can I get you a drink? Looks like we could all use one.”
Nolan didn’t wait for an answer. He pulled a bottleof whisky down from the cabinet above the fridge, then two glasses. He glanced over at us. “You guys want one?”
I shook my head, and when Fitch didn’t reply, I answered for him. “None for us, thanks.”
Dom stood unmoving at the door, still trying to process. “So you’re not sick,” he said to Nolan.
And I didn’t much care for that.
I don’t know why I felt the need to defend Nolan or shield him in any way I could, but I found myself going to him. I stood next to Nolan, between him and Dom, and touched his waist.
It calmed me, oddly enough.
“You okay?” I murmured to him.
His eyes met mine and he nodded, smiling a little. “It’s fine.”
“So your name is actually Dom,” Fitch said. “I thought it was a title or a status.” He walked over to Dom. “You look hot as fuck in that suit. My god. Order me to my knees right now?—”
Dom put his hand up in a stop fashion. He closed his eyes and shook his head. “I’m going to need someone to start explaining what’s going on here.” Then he finally looked at Fitch. “Is he... paying you?”