Page 8 of A Lethal Game of Trust

He leaned over to refill his drink, the vodka making the ice clink in his glass. He sat back and took a long sip, his throat moving up and down with the swallow. “You sleep naked. I know your type.”

Drunk. He had to be drunk. Dom didn’t flirt, but his tone wasn’t playful. He was… frustrated. “I bet the fucker that cheated on you bought them for you. He wanted you covered up while he went and fucked someone else. He clearly doesn’t know you.”

“And you do?” I asked, before pressing my lips to the glass as if I was going to drink. I had to have my mouth around something. Needed it busy before I said something I shouldn’t.

Once, he had known me far better than anyone else. Even Issy. Once, before he stuck the knife in when I needed him the most, he had been everything.

“Better than you would think,” he said, his glazed eyes on the TV. The next film started automatically.

It was then that my phone went off. Mia’s face lit the screen with a mojito in her hand. I turned it around to Dom, and he only shrugged again. “Answer if you want. She’s your friend.”

“Not really,” I said. “She’s Issy’s.”

His eyes flickered to the top of my screen. “Who’sDo Not Answer?”

I rejected the call and snatched the phone to my chest again as he grinned.

“They want to taste you one last time.”

I groaned and slouched down, resting my wine on my chest as I heard Issy in her room, clearly finished with her call.

But his voice lowered as he faced me fully. “You going to let them?”

“Let them what?” I said, laughing awkwardly to try and break some of the tension that was clearly only in my mind.

“Tasteyou.” He swirled his glass, looking me up and down in my stupid, stupid pyjamas. Despite how covered I was, I felt so very seen. “Their name would suggest they’re not worth your time. That they screwed you over. Yet, here you are, hesitating.”

“I—I’m not.” I tried to give my voice strength. Tried and failed.

“Hmm,” was the only noise he made before downing the vodka again.

If I did that, I would be retching, throwing up. I would have already passed out.

“So what pizza do we want to get?” Issy asked as she came into the room, having removed her makeup, a towel over her shoulder.

Dom gave her a dull look and reached for the vodka again.

“I thought you didn’t want to talk about it,” she said with a shrug.

“I want to hear that she grovelled.”

And right about now, I wanted to disappear. This was too intimate a moment for me to stay.

“Oh, she grovelled alright,” Issy said, sitting on his other side and grabbing her drink. “Wanted to know where we were. I told her we’d gone to our parents for the weekend so she won’t be coming around here. I said she needed to get her shit out of your house before we come back on Monday.”

He gave a nod, and his grip tightened around his glass. “We’re going to have to co-parent.”

I nearly choked on my wine, almost spluttering it back into the glass. “Parent?” I wheezed.

Humour flooded Dom’s eyes as his mouth twitched.

Issy was grinning at me. “Fear not, he means the cat.”

“Ghost,” he said quickly, as if insulted she would call him ‘the cat’. From what I’d heard, he cared for nothing else like he did the feline. “What else?”

Is cleared her throat before putting on a whiny voice, “Please just make him talk to me. Please. He doesn’t know everything. I need to talk to him.” She took a long drink, then said normally, “To which I said that no one forced her to send those texts, those pictures or fuck anyone. And that no one can make you do anything. Especially not her, not anymore.”

He nodded in agreement. “It’s been over for a while anyway.”