Page 38 of The Fate Philosophy

Dom drove us to the small town of Lake Arrowhead. I’d never been before, but he assured me that the lights the town puts up for the holidays would undoubtedly give me that warm and fuzzy holiday feeling I’d been looking for.

All I was feeling tonight was hot and needy.

But Dom didn’t need to know that.

Sure enough, once we parked the car and headed on foot toward the restaurant, we were engulfed in snow dusted sidewalks, lit up tree-lined streets, and a huge Christmas tree brightly centered in the town square.

“Do you want to get dinner, or do you want to go talk through the village first?” he asked.

I glanced around the Hallmark movie looking road we walked along and realized just how much this was feeling like a date. My stomach was swirling with those holiday-esque warm and fuzzies. I wouldn’t find this feeling back in L.A. and I wanted to savor it a little bit longer. I looked back at him and nodded toward the street in front of us.

His returning smile was almost as bright as the lights around us.

Lake Arrowhead Village was like a luxury outlet mall, but dressed in all the wrappings of a European Christmas village. The buildings were charming and quaint, with white-washed foundations and snow-covered terracotta roofs. Warm lights adorned the buildings, and many were decorated for the holidays. People bustled about the sidewalks in the midst of their Christmas shopping.

We walked down to where the shops met the water, and silently strolled along the docks, watching the Christmas lights twinkle across the rippling lake. This silence was different from the car ride this morning. I’d never been good at quiet. It felt unnatural to me. I’d never been comfortable without conversation. Even with Jeremy, and even with my parents. I couldn’t sit constantly in silence with another person, I could hardly stand to be quiet by myself. Even when alone, I had music playing or the television on. I didn’t even sleep in silence.

But this moment felt different. This kind of silence was okay. I couldn’t explain why, but I felt peaceful and content just watching lights dance across the water, knowing Dom was here next to me, even if nothing was being said.

I wondered if he felt the same, because he grabbed my hand and weaved his fingers through my own. I looked down at our joined hands, knowing I should pull away, but I didn’t want to. I didn’t look at him, either, but I thought I could feel his smile.

Dom didn’t let go as he whisked me away from the crystalline water, the dancing lights, and the glowing storefronts, to a small Italian restaurant at the end of a side street. It was quiet, warmly lit, and smelt like garlic and fresh bread. The waiters were dressed in all black, and there were linens and candles on all the tables.

It was definitely a place you’d take someone on a date.

I tried to ignore that thought as Dom held the door open for me and pulled out my chair at the table as I sat down. We made small talk about the restaurant, the town, and whether or not I’d found those holiday feelings here, before our waitress brought us drinks and took our order. She lingered at our table, speaking with Dom long after we'd told her what we wanted. She ran her fingers through the ends of her hair, and laughed way too hard at a joke he made that was only mediocre. I tried—and failed—to stop my gaze from zoning in on her as she lightly touched his shoulder.

She was pretty. Her long brunette hair was thrown up into a ponytail, and even in her uniform, I could tell she was all curves. She could’ve only been talking with Dom for a minute or two, but it felt like just enough time for me to catalog all the ways she was different from me. I couldn’t help but wonder what kind of qualities Dom preferred in a woman. Blonde or brunette. Curvy or thin. Flirtatious and open, or challenging and closed off.

“What?” Dom asked.

I snapped out of my thoughts and realized I’d been watching the waitress as she walked away. I shook my head. “She seemed into you.”

He nonchalantly swirled his glass.“Did she? Hadn’t noticed.”

I rolled my eyes. “I’m sure.”

He looked up at me and smirked. “That’s how most girls act around me, Mace. I suppose I’ve gotten used to it.”

“You’re an arrogant ass.”

“And you’re jealous.” His lips twisted into a cunning smile. “If it makes you feel better, I’d much rather you be hitting on me. But like you said, this isn’t a date. Is it?”

I took a long sip from my own wine as I figured out what to say next. I opted to get the hell out of dodge entirely. “You seem to have a lot of interest in my dating life, and how I feel, for someone who never shares anything about themselves.” I plucked a piece of bread out of the basket between us. “I’ve never once heard you talk about a girlfriend, a date, a hook up. Not even an ex of any kind. Not even to Carter. It’s a little hypocritical since you’re always hounding me about it.”

He chuckled, “I don’t have much to share. I don’t kiss and tell, and I don’t really date.”

“If you’re trying to sell me the brooding, playboy card– I don’t buy it.”

He flicked a brow at me. “No cards.”

“And why is that?”

He paused, his glass at his lips. “Honestly?”

“I thought that’s what we agreed to.”

“Honestly,” he took a long swig of his drink and swallowed, “when I become serious with someone, I want to be able to give them every piece of myself. I want to jump in whole heartedly. Rip myself open and lay myself bare. The whole nine yards.” He shrugged. “I haven’t been able to do that with anyone yet.”

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