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Chapter Nineteen

Mikah

The more I think about how I straight out told Dominic I think we should date, the more I think I’m crazy and get that weird feeling in my chest.

Embarrassment.

I hate it.

He agreed, though, and we’re officially dating. So why do I keep worrying about it? Why am I overthinking what I said to him when he probably hasn’t given it a second thought?

Why the hell am I like this?

Okay, I know why I’m like this. The question should be: why can’t I stop?

I know how. Know why I do all this. Yet… I can’t get it to go away. I don’t know how to break these habits.

The only time my mind is quiet is during sex. Even solo. It’s why making content has been so easy for me. But the thing that’s really crazy is how quiet my mind is when I’m with Dominic. Specifically during sex or when he’s being all dominating and taking care of me. There is this trust there… though I’m not sure where it came from or how it happened. Hell, even thinking about the fact that I trust him has me wanting to run for the hills.

But seeing the way he lives his life? So carefree. Having fun. Going with whatever is thrown at him…

I’m jealous.

And I’ve realized that’s what my issue was the entire time.

I envied my neighbor for being so… him. For living his life and enjoying it without apology. For being himself and not caring what other people think. For having the ability to be charming and friendly with people he probably doesn’t like.

I can’t do that. I just can’t.

I have no idea where things will go with him—maybe nowhere. But I do know that in the short time I’ve spoken to him, I’ve learned a lot about myself. He’s opened my eyes to things I chose to turn a blind eye to. Maybe I’ll regret this one day, but for now? I’m taking a page from his book and going with it. I like spending time with him; I like how he makes me feel, and ultimately, I think this will be good for me. That’s why people date, right?

“Emmet, this is my boyfriend, Mikah.”

I snap out of my thoughts—something I force myself to do often. A hundred times a day, at least. I don’t allow myself to get lost in them anymore. When I realize I’m overthinking or worrying, I force myself out of it. It’s easier to do when I’m with Dominic.

I may have done some research online to find some tips to help get myself out of this awful funk, and that was one of them. I found a ton of little tricks to break unwanted habits. So far so good, other than being ashamed of how many times I get lost in my own head over stupid things that shouldn’t matter.

“Can’t believe you got this guy to put a label on things,” Emmet says, offering out his hand.

A smile crosses my face, and I shake his hand. The first thing I notice is they look nothing alike. Where Dominic is dark and tan, Emmet is light-skinned and blond. They’re about the same height, though Emmet is leaner.

“Knock it off, Emmet,” Dominic warns, cutting in, which I’m grateful for because I had no idea what to say to that. I’m awkward at best, antisocial and rude at worst. But Dominic seems to know that about me and has no problem filling in those spaces when needed. He does it when we’re alone, and it seems he can do it when we’re out too. Which may make going out easier. Could I actually enjoy being out in public if I have him with me?

I noticed it when we went out to dinner the other night. He took charge, ordering the wine. I was fine ordering the appetizer because the waiter suggested it. Even for the meal, I was taking a while to decide. Dominic chose for me, and it was an unexpected relief .

Choices aren’t easy for me, and that’s something I have no idea how I’m going to get over. I get overwhelmed by even simple decisions sometimes—because what if I pick the wrong one?

What if, what if, what if…

I need to remove those words from my vocabulary when they’re paired together.

“I’m just saying,” Emmet comments. “Never met a boyfriend before, and I’ve known you a long time.”

“Just give me two beers and shut up,” Dominic grunts.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Emmet mutters, going to the cooler to pull out two beers. He pops the tops off before sliding them across the bar and moving on to other people down the end. It’s not too crowded, but it’s busy for a Wednesday.

We grab our beers, Dominic takes my hand, linking our fingers, and pulls me to the other end of the bar where there is a jukebox playing classic rock and two pool tables, both taken up by a bunch of guys. There are a handful of tall tables back here to sit at. Dominic goes to an empty one and puts his beer atop it.

“I tell everyone Emmet is my brother, sometimes stepbrother,” he comments.

“He’s not?”

“Foster brother, but I don’t like the looks and questions I get when I tell people that. They assume my parents were shitty and unfit, and that’s not what happened at all.”

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me. ”

“After making a big deal about lying, I think I do.”

I put my hand on top of his, meeting his gaze. “You don’t. I understand.”

And I do. It’s just easier. The lie isn’t meant to hurt, it’s meant to protect.

He turns his hand over, palm up, and we link our fingers again. He brings my hand up to his mouth and kisses the back of it. It’s sweet and has me feeling a little awkward. I’ve never done the PDA thing before. Never really had a boyfriend to do it with. I clear my throat, pull my hand back, and pick up my beer. I feel him staring at me, smiling, like he knows he’s making me uncomfortable. It seems to be his favorite thing.

“You play pool?” he asks, gesturing to the tables.

“Nope.” I take a swig of beer.

“Because you don’t know how?”

“Because I suck at it, and I’m already out of my comfort zone.”

He chuckles, sipping his beer.

“Dominic!” someone calls, and we’re joined by one of the guys who was playing pool at the furthest table.

I only recognize him because he’s wearing a bright pink shirt. Now that he’s facing me, I see it says, “This is your sister’s shirt,” in big block black letters, and that tells me all I need to know about this guy.

I don’t like him .

“Storm, how’s it going?” Dominic gets up to greet this guy, grasping his hand and going in for one of those weird bro hugs. It makes my skin itchy.

“Not bad. How about you?”

“Same shit, you know?”

“I heard one of your videos was nominated at MAIF,” Storm says with a grin.

“Two, actually,” Dominic answers proudly, and it turns my stomach, seeing him smile at this guy. I don’t like it. He blinks, and when he opens his eyes, he’s looking at me, a sneaky smirk on his lips. I hold my glare, keeping my eyes on him.

Are you going to introduce me, asshole?

“That’s fucking awesome,” Storm says, smiling like an idiot. “Good luck. My buddy asked me to go as his date, but I won’t be here.”

His date. Meaning his buddy is a guy. Meaning Storm is gay. He knows about MAIF. He could be a creator, too. Have him and Dominic fucked? I don’t like the thought of it. They probably have. Hell, Dominic has probably fucked half of this city and the people surrounding it. What was I thinking, getting involved with him?

“You could fly up for the night,” Dominic suggests with a shrug.

Why? Because you want to see him again?

My blood is boiling. I’m going to explode. The rushing sound in my ears is so loud I can hardly make out the music and their conversation sounds underwater .

“Hey, this is my boyfriend,” Dominic finally says, but I’m fuming so badly I can’t even force a smile.

“Boyfriend?” Storm chuckles. “No fucking way.”

“Yes, way. So be nice or I’ll kick your ass.”

The two of them are suddenly in front of me, and there’s sweat trickling down the back of my neck. It’s taking everything in me not to lash out because I’m on the verge of a panic attack. I knew coming out to a bar was a bad idea, but Dominic assured me it would be fine. He was wrong.

Dominic comes around to stand beside me, putting his hand on my back and rubbing circles. His touch calms me enough that I can shake Storm’s hand when he offers it. A hand that has probably been around my boyfriend’s dick. Like many other men, because he’s a fucking porn star who makes his money by dominating men. Fuck, this is crazy.

Storm is built similarly to me. He’s similar to me , meaning if Dominic likes me, then he could or may have liked him too.

“Yo, Storm, it’s your turn!” someone shouts from the pool table.

“Come see me before you go,” Storm says to Dominic. “Nice meeting you,” he says to me.

I nod, reaching for my beer with a shaky hand as he walks away.

Dominic bends down to whisper in my ear. “That was so fucking sexy.”

I choke on the beer I’m swallowing, having to use the back of my hand to wipe away the bit that dribbled out .

“Excuse me?” I grit out, turning toward him, the anger like nothing I’ve felt before.

“You being all jealous.” He smirks around the neck of his bottle, bringing it to his lips for a sip. “So fucking hot.”

I grit my teeth together so hard my jaw aches. He did that on purpose? He liked seeing me like that?

“I don’t usually get off on sucking cock, but Christ, Mikah, I really want to get on my knees for you right now.”

I swallow, my dick getting hard at the thought of him on his knees, right here in the bar, in front of everyone. In front of Storm. Showing him how much he wants to be with me, how much he likes my cock, and not his.

“He makes similar content as you, by the way. Maybe you two could talk.”

“No thanks,” I say.

Dominic grins, finishing his beer. I will admit, I appreciate that he isn’t fighting with me over this. That the jealousy, that was so clear, isn’t turning into an argument and him getting mad at me for it. That he liked it. He takes a slow step back from the table and mouths follow me.

He turns and disappears through the crowd. I glance at Storm, who is watching me with a curious look on his face. I can’t tell if he’s mad, jealous, curious? Drunk? Whatever it is, I’m going to lay claim to my boyfriend.

God, that sounds weird, but I’m doing it.

I finish my beer, put the bottle down on the table, all while holding Storm’s gaze. Then I get up and go after Dominic.