Page 65 of Best In Class
But….
Enough. I’m done with the past. We live in the now. I love him. I want him. I’m keeping him.
Until he cheats on you again.
“Moonbeam, you’ve gotta take a breath.” Dom cups my cheek. “It’s going to be okay.”
I give him a small smile, and nod.
He holds his hand out and I take it, squeeze.
I’m feeling vulnerable. Scared. Euphoric. I’m feeling so many things that it’s all mixed up in my head.
A part of me feels like a fool for getting back with a man who betrayed me.
Another part feels good, warm, happy…. Like I haven’t been since…since, well, Dom left.
“You know,” I say, reaching for my coffee, letting go of his hand, “I really liked the rainwater reclamation system at Holy Park.”
Dom blinks, then grins—because he knows exactly what I’m doing. Moving on. One step forward.
His eyes twinkle. “You changing the subject on me, Moonbeam?”
“Obviously.” I sip my coffee.
He gives me a wickedly pleased look. “So, what you’re saying is that you don’t want to talk about last night but rather about rainwater and green roofs?”
I glance at him over the rim of my cup. “Exactly. We’ll circle back to heartbreak and emotional dependency later.”
He laughs under his breath, low and warm. “I look forward to it.”
“So…did you like it?”
“I loved it,” he says suggestively, then, when I roll my eyes, he winks and adds, “the rainwater reclamation system that is. The way they integrated it into the landscaping—clean, seamless. It didn’t look like a utility feature.”
I agree, “It looked…intentional.”
We eat in easy companionship, sipping coffee, watching the small town come alive outside the lace-trimmed windows.
When it’s time to leave, I put my hand on his. “Dom?”
“Yeah?”
It makes me nervous to be this vulnerable with himagain. Letting him…lettinganyoneback in. It’s become a habit to keep everyone out.
But Dom is…well, he’s Dom. I could resist him when I didn’t see him all the time, but now he’s in my personal space, working with me, wooing me, and….
“I’m not ready to fall headfirst again. But I am standing on the edge.”
His eyes soften. “We’ll do this on your timeline, Moonbeam. I’m not going anywhere.”
The tension in my chest unknots. Slowly. Carefully.
He threads our fingers together.
His touch is steady.
Like the past doesn’t matter as much as the foundation we’re laying now.
