Page 152 of Hate Me Like You Mean It
I didn’t get it.
It was cute, don’t get me wrong, but I did not get it.
What had initially started as a desperate attempt to get my brother to hear him out had somehow morphed into a bondingdaily routine. Every morning, at 4:50 a.m., Dominic lugged himself out of bed and met Adrien at our front gate. Voluntarily. Out of his own volition.
And every morning, Adrien chose to drive down to our neighborhood so Dominic could get a few extra minutes of sleep before their run and grabbed breakfast on his way so they could eat together right after. Voluntarily. Out of his own volition.
They didn’t even talk most days. Literally ran in silence and ate in silence, and if that wasn’t love, I didn’t know what was.
“Did you have fun?”
Dominic gave a deep but gentle hum, fumbling with the controls of our overly complicated shower.
“I got it. Here.” I turned the thing on and instructed him to sit. He listened, but only so he could pull me into a hug and snuggle my breasts while it rained hot water. I laughed, kissing the top of his head before reaching for the shampoo. His chest rumbled and purred, his body melting into mine as I massaged the lather into his hair.
“Love you so much,” he mumbled to my left breast. “So much. Too much.”
If anyone, living or dead, had a better morning routine than this, I’d have loved to hear it.
“I love you, too. So much. Too much.”
“We’re going to get married.”
I clicked my tongue. “No can do, I’m already engaged.”
He smiled against my skin. “Lucky bastard.”
“So he says.”
“Break up with him. Marry me instead.”
“Can’t. Too awkward. We finally just got around to starting this gaming company we’d been planning since we were kids, and heinsistedthat wemustshare an office, even though we already live together. Oh, and he’s going to ask my brother to be his best man tonight… It’s a whole thing.”
“Oof. He must be nervous.”
I smiled. “Would it help if I met with the interior designer alone today? Give you a couple more hours to sleep?”
It was just the wrap-up meeting, and she’d done such a beautiful job decorating that it would mostly just be us singing her praises while shetsked at Dominic with an upturned nose, continuously judging him for ever even considering selling the property.
“No, it’s okay. Ilze will want to get a last few jabs in before we wrap up.”
I ran my fingers soothingly through his hair. “You sure?”
“Mmm.” After a few minutes, he followed it up with, “Alice?”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you for agreeing to marry me.”
My cheeks were going to fall off if my grin spread any wider. “You’re welcome. Thank you for asking.”
“You’re welcome.”
I’d spent the last year drowning in my own happiness, and every time I thought I’d hit the peak, Dominic did or said something seemingly small that made me soar just a little higher.
Including how much help he’d been during the turbulent storm that was my parents’ sudden move.
Less than five days after Dominic had sat them down and broken the news about Rosie’s Alzheimer’s, they’d hired a Realtor and were bidding on a place in our old neighborhood.
