Page 23 of Mane Squeeze
She blinked. Glanced toward the door. Then frowned.
He wouldn’t knock.
“Lil?” Dominic’s voice came from the other side of the archway between the kitchen and dining room. “Don’t hex me, but I may have done something mildly thoughtful.”
She turned, suspicious. “Define ‘mildly.’”
He stepped into view with a grin and a takeout bag dangling from his fingertips. “Had Twyla deliver dinner. Before you turn into a cursed skeleton at the table.”
She blinked at him. “You… ordered me food?”
“I mean, technically I bribed her with a leftover piece of enchanted cheesecake. But yes. Food. For you.”
He walked the bag over and set it down with exaggerated care. “She said to tell you this is her ‘settling-down special.’”
“She’s insufferable,” Lillith muttered, already pulling out the container and catching a waft of roasted vegetables, herbed rice, and something that smelled suspiciously like magic-infused honey drizzle.
“And yet,” Dominic said, pulling out the second container and claiming a seat across from her, “you still talk to her more than anyone else in town.”
“Because she’s the only one nosy enough to keep up with me,” she said, but her lips twitched.
They ate in silence for a few minutes, the kind that didn’t press or prod. The kind that let the clink of forks and the occasional sigh do the talking.
Dominic broke it first.
“You’ve been at this since breakfast.”
“I don’t like being out of answers,” she said, pushing rice around her plate.
“Or control,” he added.
She shot him a look. “You wanna be hexed or hugged right now?”
“Depends. Does the hex come with dessert?”
She let out an annoyed sigh but she didn’t argue. Didn’t even scowl. That had to count for something.
Dominic leaned back in his chair, arms crossed over his broad chest. “You always been like this?”
She glanced up. “Like what?”
“Sharp. Tightly wound. Bristly.”
“Wow. Compliment me harder.”
“I mean it,” he said, voice softening. “You don’t let people in easy.”
She hesitated. Then set her fork down. “Where I come from, letting people in is how you get ripped apart.”
His gaze didn’t leave hers. “Same.”
She swallowed. For a second, the room felt smaller. Warmer. Like the fire had kicked up in the hearth even though she hadn’t touched it.
“You ever think,” he added, tone a shade quieter, “that maybe we got bound for a reason?”
“I think,” she said, voice tight, “that if there is a reason, it’s laughing at us.”
He huffed a soft laugh. “Maybe. But still.”
