I can feel the weight of his stare against my cheek and can only ignore it so long before I meet his gaze.
“My dad keeps calling me,” he says softly like he’s confessing it.
“Have you answered any of them?”
“No.” He focuses back on the ocean, vast and endless, and not for the first time, I wish I could read his mind.
“Why not?”
He shrugs, but there’s something about the stiffness in his shoulders that makes me think he’s holding back. “Nothing to say.”
“Be honest.”
He turns his head, his crystal-blue eyes filled with emotions that he’s only ever let me see. “What do you want me to say, Laney? That I can’t stand to hear his voice? Even after he told me he’s dying, I still can’t find it in me to forgive him for what he did.” He looks back at the ocean, but I don’t think he’s really seeing it. “I feel like a bad son. And yet at the same time, our relationship has been strained for so long…I don’t know if there’s anything left to salvage, or anything to feel bad about.”
“How much longer does he have?”
He drops his head, looking at the sand between his bent legs. His elbows drape casually over his knees, but his shoulders sag as he whispers, “I don’t know. I haven’t asked him for details.”
I reach out and rub his back because I can’t not touch him when I know he’s hurting. Despite what he says, I know Dom will mourn his dad’s death. He’ll mourn the relationship they lost all those years ago after his mom died. He’ll mourn the memories that were never created because his dad turned out to be someone different than he’d grown up thinking he was.
His voice is broken when he speaks after several minutes of only the sound of the waves crashing. “I can’t lose you too.”
I almost don’t hear him over the roar of the ocean, but when the words finally hit me, they hit me hard.
I wish I could tell him he’ll never lose me. The truth is I don’t want to lose Dom. He’s been such an essential part of me for so long, I don’t really know who I am without him. But I don’t know how to keep him and not feel constantly brokenhearted because he doesn’t reciprocate my feelings. It’s an awful pickle to be in because either way I lose. I can’t reassure him like he wants. Not now. Not with our relationship teetering on the edge of collapse.
Not when he doesn’t love me the way I love him.
Instead of saying anything, I lean my head on his shoulder. Barely a moment passes before he rests his head on mine and we both stare out at the ocean.
I’m not sure how long we sit there together, not saying a thing, when his phone dings. He pulls it out, and the screen illuminates the darkness surrounding us. On it is a text from Shawna with a link and the words “Great job, you two!”
My stomach sinks with dread as he clicks the link, and an article pops up with the two of us at the restaurant earlier tonight. We’re both laughing which means it must’ve been when we were making fun of the ridiculous portion sizes. The headline catches my eye next. Jen Summers long forgotten as notorious party boy Dominic Smith dines with new lady love.
It speculates on our relationship and lists my name. It’s the first time in all these years that I’ve been linked to Dom like this since he was always careful to keep me out of the spotlight before, and it’s a little jarring to see my name plastered in the media.
“Well, I guess there’s no turning back now,” I say.
He glances down at me. “Do you regret agreeing to do this?”
I meet his gaze, and my heart starts to pound a little harder at the intensity in his eyes and how close our faces are. “Not yet,” I whisper.
But I have no doubt I will soon.
Shawna is pushing for us to level up our PDA, but the thought of my first kiss with Dom happening in front of cameras guts me.
I’ve imagined him kissing me dozens of times, but never with an audience. It was always private. Always something that was just ours.
“What are you thinking?” he whispers, and his breath brushes across my face, igniting an inferno that pulses between my thighs. Why does he have to be so attractive? These small moments where he’s so attentive to me have always been my kryptonite.
But then he does something he’s never done before. His gaze drops down to my lips, and again, I swear his eyes get darker before his intense stare connects with mine.
I can’t lie to him when he looks at me like this. “I don’t want our first kiss to be in front of cameras,” I whisper.
Now I’m positive his eyes flare before he lowers his head until he’s only a breath away from me. “Tell me to stop if you don’t want this,” he says, his voice hoarse and lower than I’ve ever heard it.
I stay silent, and that silence is rewarded when his firm lips finally press against mine.