Page 109 of Hate Me Like You Mean It

He looked around animatedly. “Where will you put them? You’ve got too many bouquets and plants as it is.”

He had a point. The suite was cluttered with fresh flowers and potted plants. It was like a mini indoor gardening center.

“You have enough greenery in here to put Adrien to shame,” I muttered awkwardly, feeling as though I needed to say something.

She gave a noncommittal hum, and I left it at that. While giving his briefing in the car, Dominic had gently told me not to ask her if she remembered things, places, or people. “It can stress her out,” he’d said. “I used to try, mostly out of desperation, and it… just trust me on this one.”

I squeezed his hand under the table, smiling when he met my gaze. He brushed a soothing thumb over my knuckle before turning his attention back to Rosie. “Dad texted me and said he was going to be a while, so why don’t the three of us play for a bit? Just until he gets back.”

She smoothed her palms over the cascading frills of her dark blouse, nodding. “Sure. Okay.”

“I gotta admit, I’m not very good at backgammon. Would you mind if we switched to cards?” His mouth twitched. “That way, we can team up against Alice.”

“That’s a great idea. You should call her, tell her to join us. They won’t let me have a phone.”

“They won’t?” He started to clear the board, nudging her phone to the side to make room. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure. They won’t let me have one, even though I need it to call my son.” She tucked her dark brown hair behind her ear, lips pursing unhappily.

“I didn’t know you had a kid.”

“I do. Just the one, and that’s about enough, I think.”

He snorted, and some of the tension melted from my shoulders. I bit my cheek. “He’s a handful, huh?”

“The best kind.”

“What’s his name?” Dom tried.

There was a small pause as she studied her lap, thinking. “I forget.”

“That’s okay,” he said easily, “I forget things, too, sometimes.”

“It’s hard to remember everything,” I offered with what I hoped was a reassuring smile.

“For most people,” she agreed, “but not for my son.”

Dominic smiled down at the folded board, and a warm glow spread through my chest. “Oh yeah?” he teased.

“He’s very smart,” she informed him proudly. “Too smart if I’m being honest. Gets him into trouble sometimes.”

“Like how, exactly?” he asked.

She sucked in her cheeks the way she used to when Dominic made an inappropriate joke she was about to reprimand. “He recently learned to count cards.”

The laugh that burst out of me was so sudden and unexpected that both of them started. My palm slapped over my mouth, my eyes widening in apology.

Dominic’s card-counting phase was legendary. At fifteen, he’d duped a handful of kids at school out of enough money to buy himself a new set of rims… for the car he’d swindled from the oldest, richest, and dumbest of the lot.

He’d driven that thing around without so much as a learner’s permit for a total of seven weeks before finally getting caught and taking me down with him.

Yes, I knew about the car, how he’d come about obtaining it, and where he’d kept it parked.

Yes, we’d used it to sneak out past our respective curfews multiple times to go on late-night taco runs, arguing aggressively about what music we blasted during the drive. And yes, we did jump a fence or two so we could enjoy our tacos with whatever view we thought would be worth the effort. And okay, yes, technically, itwastrespassing onto private property, per the multitude of signs we’d blatantly ignored.

Butthree weeksof no social media, no friends, and no parties was an unreasonably harsh punishment for breaking, like, three lawsat most, I’d argued.

Dominic nudged my foot under the table, eyes twinkling as he suppressed a knowing smile. I’d gotten off easy compared to him. Rosie had been murderous when the cop dropped us off at 2:00 am. She’d dragged him to the guesthouse by the ear, yelling about how he could’ve gotten us both killed.