Page 59 of Best In Class
“I don’t want her.” He takes off his pants. I suck in a breath. “I want you.”
I pause, laptop forgotten. I look at him—reallylook.
God! His boxer’s cup him, and he’s…hard. He’s….
“Ah…right. You know. You should go into the bathroom and?—”
“You getting hot and bothered there, Moonbeam?” His hands are on the waistband of his underwear.
“Dominic Elijah Calder, don’t you dare take those off!”
He laughs and goes into the bathroom. When the door clicks shut behind him, I exhale.
You want him.
Yep!
Wanting him is not good for you, Luna.
Tell me something I don’t know.
The room is still, lit only by moonlight and the soft amber glow of the hallway creeping in under the door.
It’s uncomfortable as hell. He’s on his side of the bed inboxer shorts. I’m on my side in his T-shirt andnopanties.
I hear the shift of sheets. Dom sighs softly, like sleep’s just out of reach.
It is for me, too.
I lay flat on my back, staring at the cracked ceiling. Someone painted it pale blue to mimic the sky, probably decades ago. It’s faded now, like everything old and soft and Southern eventually becomes.
“Moonbeam?” His voice cuts through the dark, low and careful.
“Yeah?”
A pause, then, “You still up?”
“No, I’m sleep-talking. It’s my gift.”
He chuckles.
I bite my lip and close my eyes, the ceiling forgotten. Silence stretches between us, awkward and raw.
“You ever think,” he says, voice even quieter now, “about how we could’ve turned out if we stayed together?”
I don’t answer right away.
Because I think about it all the time.
My heart is aching with the need to open up, show him my wounds.
Just tell him the truth, Luna.
“Sometimes,” I admit. “Usually when I’m driving alone. Or after a project wraps, and there’s no one to call who really gets it.”
He turns to face me.
“You were the only person who ever saw what I wanted to be, Luna. Before I had anything to show for it.”
