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Chapter Twenty-Three

Mikah

Why is it, after spending a night with Dominic, I wake up the next day feeling nothing but shame and regret?

Okay, maybe not regret entirely . I don’t wish I could take it back. I just wish it hadn’t happened.

But that isn’t really true either, if I’m being honest with myself. It’s not that I don’t want it to have happened, because I liked it. It’s that I don’t know how to handle that it happened. There, that’s what it is. My issue isn’t what I’m doing, it’s dealing with what I’m doing.

And what do I do when I can’t handle my own thoughts?

I go to Dominic because he makes everything easy. He quiets my brain.

I roll over to grab my phone because I’m going to text him and see where he’s at, but when I reach for my phone, I realize I’m not in my bed .

Sitting up, I see I’m not in my room. I’m in Dominic’s. Well, that makes things easier, doesn’t it? Rubbing my eyes, I get to my feet, only to realize I’m completely naked and maybe Storm is still here. I hope not, because that’ll be awkward as hell, but it’s possible. They are friends and are pretty comfortable with each other. It would be like Dominic to keep him here for breakfast. Or lunch, or whatever the hell meal it would be at whatever time it is.

I find my clothes on the dresser, folded and—clean? Wait, these aren’t even the clothes I wore yesterday. I look out the window into my bedroom.

Did he go over there and get me fresh clothes?

My heart does a little flip, and I smile as I get dressed, putting on the sweatpants and a T-shirt. I go to the bathroom, finding a brand-new toothbrush that’s still in the plastic by the sink. I can only assume it’s for me, so I open it up and brush my teeth.

Dominic is always thoughtful, and not going to lie, all of this eases my worry. He wouldn’t go through so much trouble if he was mad at me and thought I really was a slut—because yes, I remember him saying that, and the ache in my ass tells me that yeah, maybe I was being a little slut last night.

But I liked it.

Fuck, I really liked it. And the fact he liked it too…

The good thing about this is that I can’t directly lead this back to the shitty life I had. Being a slut won’t make me poor; it’ll just make people hate me. Though I’m sure plenty of people hate me already since I make porn. Therefore, it isn’t an instant spiral into a panic attack.

Okay, so this isn’t really all that bad. It just feels different because I didn’t get paid for last night. I didn’t do it for a camera or for fans. I did it because I wanted to. And that’s very different.

But better or worse?

Stop thinking about it.

Yeah, good idea. I enjoyed it, and that’s all that matters.

“You’re awake.”

The voice is undoubtedly Dominic’s, and it’s clear he’s been awake for some time. I spit into the sink, rinse my mouth and the toothbrush, then turn to him as I try to figure out what to say. I was fine with the whole thing when it was just me. Now that I have to face him?

What if he is mad?

Also, I’ve never spent the night at a boyfriend’s house before. The only person’s house I ever slept at was Zach’s, and he was a friend before anything else. And even then, it wasn’t often since there was no room there. But when things got really bad at my place, he’s who I went to.

Dominic doesn’t give me a chance to say anything because he captures my lips with his, hands going around me in a firm hug. When he pulls back, he nestles his face in my neck.

“I love that you stayed here.”

“Do you?” The words kind of just fall out of my mouth.

“Yes. A lot, actually. You’re adorable when you sleep. ”

“Oh god. What did I do? Did I fart or something? Snore really loud?”

Dominic laughs, taking a step back. “After all the things we’ve done, you’re worried about farting?”

I let out a nervous chuckle. “I guess that’s a fair point.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Sore, won’t lie. But fine.”

Seriously glad I don’t have a headache or a hangover. I drank a lot last night.

He leans his hip against the counter, raising a brow.

“And mentally? Emotionally?”

“No one has ever asked me that before…”

Which makes sense, considering I’ve never done anything like that before.

“Considering you haven’t had many, if any, people in your life who have taken care of you, I’m not surprised.”

Hey, I meant when it comes to sex, but also… he’s not wrong. So, I nod. And though his words would have offended me a few weeks ago, they don’t now. I see them for what they are. Him caring, worrying, giving a shit about me like a normal human would.

“Should I go home?”

Dominic frowns. “Why would you ask that after what I just said?”

“I don’t know,” I say quickly. “I just… I’ve never done this before, and I don’t want to overstay. ”

“Overstay?” He chuckles, shaking his head. “You could move in right now, and I’d love the fuck out of it.”

My jaw drops. “Are you kidding?”

“Not one fucking bit.” He shrugs unapologetically. As if he truly wouldn’t care if I moved in right now. How would I feel if he moved all of his things into my place? Like that wool sweater is back on my body, that’s how. I scratch at my arm, and he chuckles.

“Don’t worry, Mikah. I’m not going to encroach on your territory or force you to move in. Outside of checking on you and getting you fresh clothes, that is.” He winks, then heads out the door. “Come on, I made you breakfast.”

Okay… maybe I could get used to this.

I head back to my place late afternoon. I’d almost run over like my ass was on fire during breakfast when I remembered I have a cat who needs to eat. He’ll tear up my house if I don’t feed him. Last time I forgot, he destroyed a pillow and peed on my floor. But Dominic told me he fed CP when he went over to get me clothes, which is just another thing that blows my mind.

The more I think about it all, the more I’m starting to understand my feelings for him. I get the dynamic between us. I see, from the outside, how it works. Of course I would have feelings for him while he’s doing everything for me, making me realize all these things about myself that aren’t easy to face but needed. He’s taking care of me, like he said he would. Aside from that, just as a person… I like him. Everything about him that I used to find annoying, I now enjoy. Like his jokes and his smiles. Especially the way I feel when I’m with him.

But what do I have to offer him? I don’t take care of him the same way. I’m grumpy most of the time we’re together. All I do is fight him tooth and nail. What’s to like about that? I don’t get it.

Once home, I spend a long time in the shower, not only cleaning, but using the hot water as therapy. When I’m done, I pop some painkillers, because I’m more sore now than earlier, and make some tea. When it’s done, I take it with me to sit on the couch and turn on the TV. But I keep finding myself glancing at the window, hoping to get a view of Dominic in his house. What is he doing? Is he thinking about me too? Does he not care that I left? Is he glad I did? I recall what he said to me in his bathroom.

You could move in right now, and I’d love the fuck out of it.

That’s crazy, right? I mean, who says that after only a few days of dating? I can’t deny it has my body all warm and fuzzy, but really thinking about it? It’s nuts, right?

Right?

My head isn’t always the best place to take advice from, though. And I know that’s even more nuts, because hello, it’s my brain. But I can’t trust that thing. It’s always assuming the worst, whispering stupid, mean things to me. I’ve always felt like I have two people living in my body. Me and him . The voice that makes everything worse. And though he’s been quiet lately, thanks to Dominic drowning him out with his presence, he’s still there, lingering.

My gaze goes to the window again.

What is he doing over there?

“This is pathetic,” I mutter, getting to my feet to find my phone. I need to call Zach.

The second my phone is in my hand, it dings with a text.

Asshole Neighbor: What are you doing?

I stare at the text, unable to stop the smile that crosses my face.

Should I change his contact name?

Probably, but also, this is funny so I leave it. I think he’ll get a kick out of it when he realizes.

I type out a response, then delete it. Type something else out. Delete that too.

There are so many ways to respond to what he asked. Do I go with honesty or flirty?

Why do I have to overthink every single thing in my life? Damn, this is tiring.

I scrub a hand down my face.

Fuck it.

Me: Missing you.

I send it and hold my breath as I wait for a response.

Only it doesn’t come, and I have to release the air from my lungs so I can breathe before I pass out.

Maybe he put his phone down. Maybe he fell asleep? Maybe—my doorbell rings. I turn to face it, frowning at it, until a warm feeling settles in my chest.

Is that…

I put my phone down and walk to my door, carefully pulling it open.

“I’m here to fix your problem,” Dominic says, holding his arms out wide and grinning.

“Problem?”

“Missing me.” He steps in, wrapping his arm around my waist and bringing his mouth to mine. I suck in a sharp breath through my nose, loving the way his body feels against mine. “Told you I’d take care of you.”

I smile, resting my forehead on his shoulder and rocking it back and forth.

“This is crazy.”

His other arm comes around me. “Yeah,” he agrees. “But I’m okay with it.”

I lift my head, meeting his gaze. “I’m trying to be.”

He nods in understanding. “Let’s talk about it.” He lets go of me and steps further in, closing the door. Going to the couch, he stops before sitting and looks at me. “Well, come on.”

With a huff, I go to the couch and drop down, groaning at the pain when I do. My tea is probably cold by now, but I’ll still drink it.

“You know I don’t like talking about things,” I say, reaching for my mug .

“Yes, but you also know I’m not like other people, so maybe talking to me will make you feel better. Try it.”

He settles against the couch, close enough that I can smell him but not so close I feel smothered.

“This is… a lot.”

“Yes,” he agrees.

I frown. “You agree?”

“Of course.”

“Then why are you so… okay with it?”

“Are you not okay with it?”

I shrug, staring into the brownish-red liquid in my cup. It’s a raspberry tea, a new brand I’ve never tried before. It’s not my favorite, but I don’t hate it.

“It’s confusing. Overwhelming. Scary.”

“So it’s not that you don’t like it, it’s just different and new and, like you said, scary.”

“I guess, yeah.”

He nods, putting his hand on my thigh.

“Everyone deals with that stuff differently, Mikah. I face fear head on. I enjoy the thrill, like not knowing where it’s going to take me. You’re different, and that’s okay. You’re hesitant and weigh the pros and cons of things. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“There is when it stops me from doing things.”

Dominic grins, taking my hand. “But you haven’t stopped this.”

“Because you make me feel… go od.”

“And I bet a lot of other things would too, if only you gave them a chance.”

I chew on my lip, thinking that over. He’s right. I know he’s right. It’s what I’ve been going back and forth over in my head. Not only recently, but always. I worry too much, this is something I know. I’ve been told the exact thing by many people over the years, but I’ve never actively tried to stop. I’ve never tried to deal with it. I just brushed it off as that’s who I am.

“Can I ask you something?” he says, linking our fingers together.

I love when he holds my hand. They fit so perfectly together.

“Sure.”

“What had you so desperate to knock on my door that first night?” I blink a few times, shocked. I’m not sure I want to admit that to him. He continues. “You talk about fear holding you back, but something was worth coming to me. What was it?”

It was… whatever the hell is wrong with me. If I were him, I never would have been so desperate for that money. I would have been fine waiting until my next payday. I would have made more content. Bonus content. Had a sale. There are so many things I could have done to slowly gain that money back, but I panicked. Put my pride aside to feed into my fears. I sigh, bringing my gaze to the floor. Dominic squeezes my hand.

“You can tell me, Mikah. I won’t judge you, no matter what it is.”

I believe him. Why do I believe him so easily?

Why does it matter? Shouldn’t I just go with it?

Because I can get hurt in the end…

Fuck off.

I don’t want fear to keep controlling my life. I’m tired of it. Tired of letting all my trauma and worry control everything I do. So, I put my mug down and turn to face Dominic more fully.

“Someone stole my identity and wiped my bank account.” Dominic’s eyes widen, the shock clear on his face. “And… the way I grew up? I have this thing with money. I need it, need to know I have it for whatever I may need like food, bills, emergencies. Waking up to my account negative, after years of saving, had me in one of the worst panics of my life. Coincidentally, it was when my boss offered the calendar job and the video. Then that guy offered the money for the video with you, and I would have done just about anything to feel the safety net of that money in my account. Well, not my account, because I had to open one in my friend’s name, but you know what I mean.”

Dominic gives me a sympathetic look, and I am so relieved there isn’t anything in that look that says he thinks I’m crazy. I think that would have killed me.

“Have you applied for a new social security number?”

“Have I what?”

“You know you can do that, right? If you can prove someone stole your info, and has been using it—”

“It’s stopped since I alerted the security app I use to monitor it. Though, they still never emailed me back. ”

He shakes his head. “That’s fine, but whoever has your information still has it. You’re going to live the rest of your life not being able to put anything in your name because they fucked up your credit? What if you want to move? Get a new car? Go back to school.” He shifts on the couch to face me. “You need to apply for a new number to fix this.”

I hadn’t considered that a possibility. I never thought this far into it because I couldn’t get past the money thing.

“I guess I was so worked up over the money I hadn’t thought of that.”

“Hey, I actually know someone who works at the social security office. I’ll take you.”

He’s going to help me get this fixed, just like that?

“Okay,” I say, proud of myself for so willingly letting him help me.

But there’s a new question lingering in the back of my brain now.

Had I known I could do this, would I still have gone to him? Would I still have been so desperate? I guess it doesn’t matter, because he’s here now, and I don’t want him to leave.