Dom X - The Complete Box Set: Alpha Male Romance (21 page)

O
kay
, so things were going a bit better since I'd given myself my little pep talk. I'd managed to keep my attention on Tanner, and that let me settle back into the comfort and banter that had always been us.

At some point, he'd taken my hand and I hadn't pulled it back. It wasn’t a lingering touch, more just his fingers lightly curling around mine, but I'd known that it meant something. It hadn't been the gesture of “just a friend.”

I should've backed off then, made sure that I kept things platonic until I'd decided what I truly wanted. Because I still had no idea. But, it was too easy to keep my hand in his. Too easy to remember how good it was with him, how his touch had felt on my body. The warmth of his skin, how he'd known just the right ways to turn me on. How he'd been able to coax every last drop of tension from me with an explosion of pure pleasure.

How could I be sure he couldn't still make me feel the same way.

“It's still early,” he said as the waiter came to take the check.

He hadn't let me pay for my part of the meal but had played the gentleman card again. It wasn’t until he reminded me that he used to pay for everyone the times we'd gone on group or double dates in the past that I'd reluctantly agreed.

“What do you think about topping things off with a drink?” he asked.

I considered saying no, because that would've been the smart thing to do. But then I looked at the time and realized that I didn't want to go back to the house yet. I wasn't entirely sure what I'd say to X if I ran into him tonight. I told myself that I wanted us to be friends, but I doubted that friendship extended to sharing date details. I knew if the situation had been reversed, I wouldn't have wanted to hear it from him.

“I'm guessing you don't want to get the house wine,” I said with a smile.

He winked at me. “You know me so well.”

And I did. There was something to be said for predictability. Maybe it wasn't actually being predictable though. Wasn't knowing that I could count on him more about reliability than anything else? And having a reliable person in my life was a good thing. After my brother's death, my parents had proven time and again that I couldn't rely on them. Tanner had never let me down.

Hell, we'd hardly even fought. Four years and barely a squabble.

“Not to insult the choice of alcohol here,” he said. “But I'm pretty sure I can have room service set up some champagne and strawberries before we get to the hotel.”

That right there should've been my excuse to bow out. I wasn't an idiot. Tanner might've said he'd give me time, but that hadn't meant he'd agreed to stop trying. And I knew what it'd mean if I agreed to go back to his hotel room. Not that he'd ever pressure me to sleep with him, but I knew that he'd take my acceptance as a step toward us getting back together.

I gave him a look that was only half-serious. “And this wouldn't happen to be part of a plan to get me in bed, would it?”

“Why?” he asked, his eyes dancing. “Would it work?”

I rolled my eyes as I stood. I didn't want to have sex with him, but champagne and strawberries did sound really good.

“Okay,” I agreed. “But we're not going to do anything.”

He held up his hands in the universal sign of surrender. “Not a thing.”

T
he champagne was excellent
. Of course. Tanner might not be the kind of man who threw money around to brag, but he did like quality. The strawberries were equally as good, and the combination of alcohol and familiarity helped me relax.

“You know,” Tanner said as he settled more comfortably next to me on the loveseat. “I think this is what I've missed the most.”

I looked up at him as I took another sip of my champagne. “Taking me to a hotel and plying me with alcohol?”

He chuckled and I waited for the familiar shiver to go through me. Except it didn't.

“Talking to you. Sitting with you.” He stretched his arm behind me. “Even when we'd go for a week or two without seeing each other, I always knew this was in my future.”

I missed that too, I realized. Missed this. Being able to count on someone to unload on, or even just sit with and not have to worry about what I was going to say or going to do. I could just be myself with Tanner. I didn't have to constantly second-guess everything I did or said, didn't have to worry about coming across as inappropriate or cold. I wasn't a nurse or a caretaker here. I wasn't a daughter, and I didn't have to be responsible for anything or anyone.

I was just me.

“I know you said you needed time,” Tanner said. “And I'll respect that.” He ran his finger down my cheek, hooking my chin as he turned my face toward him. “But I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to kiss you right now.”

He waited for a beat, and I knew he was giving me a chance to stop him. When I didn't, he bent his head and kissed me. It was easier than it should've been to lean into him, let my lips move with his. I closed my eyes and slid my arms around his neck. His hands moved down my back to settle at my waist. His fingers flexed against me and I felt the same power and strength I always felt with him. There was no sense of him working to hold back though. It was as if he kept himself under such control that it was less about keeping himself reined in, and more about the fact that he'd have to let himself go. Not that he ever had.

I didn't want to think about that though. I didn't want to think about anything at all.

When his tongue slipped across my bottom lip, I darted mine out to tease his. He made a sound in the back of his throat and pulled me onto his lap. Automatically, my knees went on either side of his hips and I could feel him harden underneath me. I waited to feel the familiar clench of desire in my stomach, the flutter of anticipation.

Nothing.

It was nice, but nothing more.

Then I was on my back and he was stretched out over me, his mouth moving across my jaw and down my neck. One hand stayed on my hip, but the other was at my shoulder, sliding the strap down.

“Tanner.” My voice was less breathless than it should've been, but it didn't really surprise me. While the sensations were pleasant, there was no heat, no spark.

His teeth scraped over my collarbone and I pulled my hands around to push at his shoulders. He didn't move.

The word came to my lips before I even thought about saying it. “Ruby.”

He froze, then slowly lifted himself up so that he could look down at me.

“Nori?”

I gave him a sad smile and watched as he realized what I'd just figured out. He pushed himself onto his knees, then sat down. He held out a hand to pull me up, releasing it as soon as I was sitting.

“Guess this didn't work out the way I hoped it would,” he said.

There was a wistfulness on his face, but he didn't look like he was angry. No surprise. Tanner wasn't that kind of guy.

“I'm sorry,” I said. “I really did want to think about it. And I have missed you.”

“But it's not the same,” he said. “Between us. The reason we broke up, it didn't change for you.”

“No,” I said it as gently as I could. “You're a great friend, Tanner, but I just don't feel that way anymore again.”

He reached over and squeezed my hand. “Let me call you a cab.”

“I didn't want...” I closed my eyes as I thought about what I wanted to say. “I never meant for it to go this way.”

I opened my eyes to find him watching me.

“I know, Nori. You don't have a mean or unkind bone in your body. It's one of the things I always loved about you.” He stood and then pulled me to my feet. “It's not anyone's fault. We just don't fit like that anymore.”

I nodded as I felt tears burning my eyes. This really was it. We were done. No matter what happened between the two of us in the future, it would only be friendship. I knew he'd still be there for me if I needed him, and I would always be there for him, but I wasn't in love with him anymore. I didn't really know when that changed, but I knew for sure that it was true.

“I need to use the restroom,” I said quickly. I didn't want Tanner to see me cry. I didn't even want to cry, but I needed to take a minute to compose myself.

I didn't take long, but when I came out, Tanner was already getting off the phone.

“Taxi will be downstairs shortly,” he said. “Do you want me to walk you down?”

I shook my head. “I'll be fine.”

Tanner came over and reached out to squeeze my arm. “We're good, Nori.”

I smiled. “We are.”

I started for the door but paused when he said my name.

“Don't be afraid to go after what makes you happy.” He still looked sad, but his words were sincere. “You deserve to have what you want.
Who
you want.”

I looked at him for a moment and then said, “So do you.”

As I left, I wondered if he had someone in mind when he said that last statement. If he thought the reason I wasn't in love with him anymore had to do with someone specific. As if there was someone else I'd fallen for.

But he couldn't have known how I felt about X. I barely knew how I felt.

But something about the look on Tanner's face made me think that he did know, maybe even better than I did.

And he wanted me to be with the person who made me happy.

E
verybody was gone now
. The paramedics had asked if I wanted to go with them, but I'd declined. What was the point? I knew a dead body when I saw one. And thanks to a conversation the father and I'd had one day after my accident, I knew he had a DNR order in place for a few years now. He'd even gone so far as to get one of those DNR bracelets to make sure even paramedics would know his decision. In his mind, God would take him home when it was time. No later. No earlier.

I just never thought I'd have to honor it. Not like this anyway. I thought it'd be years in the future and after some illness, if ever. I hadn't thought it would mean I would have to stop myself from doing CPR. A selfish part of me had wanted to do it anyway, the part of me that knew I still needed him, and another part that hadn't wanted to be the one to make the fatal decision.

I called 911 while I checked for a pulse. There'd been one, but very faint and thready. He was on his way out. When the dispatcher had asked if I knew CPR, I told her about the Do Not Resuscitate order. She sent paramedics and a squad car, but it was too late by the time they arrived. The father's heart had stopped and he was gone.

I'd given the cops the father's paperwork, and they told me that they had to look into everything. I'd nodded but hadn't really paid much attention to anything. I'd been watching the paramedics wheel his body out of the house. They told me they'd be in contact if they had any questions, and then they left.

I was missing blocks of time after that. I was pretty sure I'd wandered around the house because I somehow managed to shower and put on clean clothes, as if any of that mattered. It wasn’t like the father's blood had been on me. The only blood was my own from where my skin had cracked. I didn't remember what I'd been doing when it happened, but I had enough sense to bandage myself up.

After a while, I found myself sitting on the dark second-floor landing with a bottle of alcohol in one hand and a bottle of pain meds in the other. I didn't know how long I'd been sitting there, only that the tequila was still unopened and my pill bottle was still mostly full. I hadn't taken them very often, especially when I preferred to drown my sorrows in booze. But I'd taken one now, as if it could touch more than the pain in my arm.

Now I wished I hadn't taken anything because I really wanted a drink. It wasn't a good idea to mix the two, I knew, but I was tempted. I'd thought my accident was the worst thing that'd happened to me since my mother and sister had been killed. That one would always be the worst. My accident was no longer number two though.

Doron O'Toole was the closest thing I'd ever had to a real father. He'd saved my life, given me hope and a purpose. He was the one constant in my adult life, the one person I could count on no matter what I did or where I was. He'd never given up on me, never treated me as anything less than a son. With my mom and sister gone, he was my family.

And now he was gone.

It wasn't just pain and grief I was feeling, but a loss so deep that I didn't even have the words to describe it. I loved Mom and Madison, but I'd grown used to their absence. This was still new and fresh.

I held up the pill bottle. Mostly full. They weren't the strongest narcotic out there, but they were still prescription strength. I looked over at the tequila. Definitely a bad idea to combine the two.

But the idea was appealing. I'd never down the whole bottle of pills and deliberately kill myself. Not when I knew how Father O'Toole would've felt about it. I couldn't disrespect his memory like that. But a second pill wasn't too much. Combine that with most of a bottle of alcohol, and there was a good chance I'd simply fall asleep and not wake up again. I'd never have to deal with the agony of being alone, of knowing that was all I had to look forward to.

The coroner might rule it a suicide, but it would most likely be called an accidental overdose. Neither one would be entirely accurate, but who would care that it was actually me being intentionally reckless? I wouldn't have to deal with it and since I hadn't done anything officially on purpose, I wouldn't be going against Father O'Toole's wishes.

Semantics, I know. But it was important to me.

Running a hand through my hair, I cursed under my breath. I wasn't sure why I cared about that anymore. I didn't believe in an afterlife, so it wasn't like the father would be looking down at me, disappointed. He was just gone. Whatever had made him the person he was an hour ago didn't exist anymore. I supposed there was always the possibility that he was right, but if that was the case, I was already screwed a dozen ways from Sunday. One more wouldn't make a difference.

Shit. I needed to call his parish and tell them what happened. I scowled into the darkness. I should've been grateful that I didn't have to worry about notifying family, but I wasn't. I didn't want to have to tell anyone the news, much less some strangers who'd probably insist on giving me some spiritual mumbo-jumbo shit about how he was in a better place.

I knew there were things I had to do, arrangements I needed to make. Father O'Toole wouldn't have wanted some big elaborate wake and funeral, but I wanted to make sure that his religious beliefs were represented. I might not believe the same, but it wasn't about me. I was sure someone at his church would be able to help with that.

I'd have to figure out a way to do it without having to go public though. I would do it for the father, but if I could put it off as much as possible, I would.

I heard the front door close and wondered if I should move from where I was sitting. I didn't want to. I didn't want to move at all. Ever. I just wanted the pain to stop. Wanted to never have to think about any of this. Not the present, and certainly not the future.

“X?” Nori's voice came with the light as she flipped the switch for the lights above the stairs. “What are you doing?”

I looked up at her and wondered why she was home so early. Tanner hadn't looked like the sort of guy who'd kick a woman out of his bed, and definitely not a woman who he wanted to get back together with.

“What's wrong?” Concern filled her voice as she knelt on the landing next to me.

“Father O'Toole's dead.” The words felt thick and heavy on my tongue, as if they themselves had weight.

I watched her face as she processed the information. Watched as she went from disbelief and denial, to acceptance of the truth and the grief that came with it. She hadn't been as close to him as I was, but I knew she'd be sad that he was gone.

She reached out and put her hand on my good arm. “Oh, X, I'm so sorry.”

I started to jerk my hand away, but the expression on her face was so genuine, so caring, that I found myself wanting to believe it.

“I would ask if you were okay, but that's a stupid thing to say right now.”

She started to lean closer, but then her eyes dropped to my hand, and I felt her entire body stiffen.

“What the hell is this, X?”

Before I could react, she snatched the pill bottle from my hand. She pushed herself up on her feet, whether to get the pills out of my reach or to put herself further from me, I didn't know. I struggled to stand. I wasn't drunk, but my legs didn't really want to hold me at the moment. I had to press my back against the wall and force myself upright.

“Why do you have these?” she demanded, her eyes glinting with tears. She jabbed her finger at the vodka bottle. “Planning on downing a few pills with that?”

I almost tried to reassure her, but I didn't have the strength for it. And, if I were completely honest, a part of me didn't want to be nice.

“That's none of your business,” I snapped. “The closest person I have to a father just died. If I want to drink, then I'm going to fucking drink.”

The expression on her face hardened. “I'm not going to insult your relationship with Father O'Toole by saying that I cared about him too, because I know the sadness I'm feeling is nothing compared to what you're going through.”

I felt some of my anger start to trickle away, and I fought to keep it. Anger was better than pain.

“Then just give me the damn pills and go away.”

She shook her head. “I don't think so.”

“Why?” I asked. “Why does it matter? He was my only family, Nori. And now he's gone, and you're leaving, so why the hell does any of it even matter?”

If I thought my short burst of anger would soften her, I was wrong.

“Why?” Her eyes were blazing, and several spots of color had appeared high on her cheeks. “Why the hell do you think, you stupid bastard!”

She threw the bottle at me, the action taking me so off-guard that I didn't catch it. It fell at my feet and I let it lay there on the floor as I stared at her. I hadn't seen her this worked up since she told me about her brother.

“I told you about Logan, about what losing him did to me.” Her hands were shaking. “I can't lose someone else I care about.”

For a brief moment, I almost wished that what she said was real. Not that I thought she was lying. I just knew that we had two totally different definitions of the word. I didn't doubt that she cared about what happened to me, but it wasn't the same.

I looked away from her. “It doesn't matter,” I said. “I wasn't trying to hurt myself. I took one of the pills and I wanted a drink. Don't worry. You won't lose a patient on your watch.”

I heard her take a step toward me, then caught the scent of her perfume.

“Dammit, X, look at me.”

I clenched my jaw.

“Please.” Her voice was soft. “Look at me.”

Fuck. How was I supposed to deny her when she asked like that?

I raised my head and my eyes met hers. My stomach clenched, and the intensity of what I was feeling nearly choked me.

“Why are you here?” The question came out flat, harsh. I regretted it the moment I saw Nori flinch, and I quickly clarified. “I mean, shouldn't you be out with your boyfriend, celebrating? Planning your move back to Texas.” I gave a bitter laugh. “You don't even have to wait until I'm completely better. I'll be fine whenever you want to go. I'm sure Tanner doesn't want to stick around here any longer than he has to.”

When I finally stopped talking, I realized that Nori had gone from pissed to quiet.

“Tanner isn't my boyfriend,” she said. “Not anymore and not again.”

“Oh.” It seemed like a pretty stupid response, but it was about all I could manage at the moment.

“I realized tonight what I'd already thought when he and I broke up before,” she continued. “I'm not in love with Tanner anymore, and I haven't been for a while.”

I carefully set the vodka bottle on the floor and straightened again. I felt like the moment had become fragile, like one wrong move could shatter everything.

“X, I–”

I didn't think, didn't take the time to consider the wisdom of my actions. I just knew that she was here and not with Tanner. That she was here and I needed her.

I leaned down and took her mouth the way I'd always wanted to. Harsh, demanding, needy. I poured every ounce of my frustration and grief into the kiss. Every bit of longing and desire.

And, to my shock, after just a moment, she kissed me back.