Page 40

Chapter Forty

Dominic

I pause on my porch, trash bag in hand, when I spot an unfamiliar car in Mikah’s driveway. A million thoughts run through my head, but new boyfriend is the one that has me seeing red.

Carefully moving down the steps, my eyes laser-focused on his house, I go to my bins and toss the bag in, then move to the fence and rest my hands on it. That isn’t Zach’s car. I saw that the day he showed up, so it’s not like his best friend gave him a ride home and stayed for dinner.

No one is in the car and it isn’t on, so not a delivery service or Uber or anything like that. Narrowing my eyes, I look over the car, then bring my gaze back to his house.

Is he in there fucking someone right now? I’ll kill them. Not them as in both of them, but them as in the guy he’s fucking. I’ll gut him, right there in the house, and let Captain Fluffy Paws lick up the mess.

Fuck this .

I move down my driveway and turn around the fence, moving to the car. I press my hand to the hood, noting it’s cool, meaning it’s been off for a while. Glancing back at the house, all I can picture is Mikah with someone, and it’s blinding me with rage. So, I do the only rational thing I can do and storm up the stairs and barge into Mikah’s house.

Captain Fluffy Paws, who was sleeping on the couch, jumps up and scurries away, growling and hissing as he goes. I slam the door and move deeper into the house, and when I hear noise coming from upstairs, my blood runs cold.

What a way to tell me this is over.

With a shake of my head, I hurry up the steps and storm into Mikah’s room, because I have no damn self-control. I’m fueled by anger and jealousy, nothing more.

“You couldn’t even call me and—”

Mikah looks at me over his shoulder, staring at me like a deer in headlights, bent over a suitcase that’s opened and stuffed with clothes.

“Dominic?” Mikah gets to his feet, turning to face me. “What are you… What—”

“You’re alone,” I blurt out as I look around. I step deeper into the room, closing the door halfway to check behind it, then glance in the closet.

“Yeah?”

He blinks a few times, looking from me to the door, then back to me.

“Who’s car is in the driveway?” I ask pointedly .

“Mine?”

“The one behind yours,” I grit out. There could be someone hiding in the house. Downstairs or in the bathroom…

Mikah raises a brow, getting to his feet.

“It’s a rental. I just got back from Zach’s. Why are you here?”

A rental… He got back from Zach’s…

“Because I saw a strange car in the driveway.” I jerk my hand behind me, unsure of why he’s so confused right now. Isn’t it obvious? Wouldn’t he do the same?

“Do you just drive by to check up on me?” He crosses his arms over his chest, frowning.

“Drive by? What the fuck are you talking about? I live next door.” I jerk my arm in the direction of my house. Did he hit his head on the way here or something?

He shakes his head. “No, the sign is down, and someone else’s car is in the driveway.”

I slow blink, then I laugh.

“Did you think… You thought I moved?” I manage to say.

“What else would I think?” he barks out, taking a step closer to me. “I come back and there’s a fucking shiny ass BMW in the driveway and the For Sale sign that’s been up for a month is suddenly gone.”

I grin, closing the distance between us. “Did you drive by to check up on me?” I ask, reflecting his words back at him. How else did he know I had a sign up?

He scoffs, opening his mouth to say something, but I cut him off by grabbing the back of his neck and smashing my lips to his .

I’m not sure what comes over me, other than an enormous wave of relief at knowing he’s here alone, he’s back, and he isn’t with anyone.

Mikah is stunned, doesn’t kiss me back, but I’m pulling away before I give him a chance to. I don’t need him to kiss me back, don’t need him to profess his love for me. Just knowing he’s back is all I need—for now. I grin, stepping backwards, and then turning on my heel.

“Where you going?” he calls after me, taking a few steps out of his room. I stop in the middle of the stairs and look up at him.

“Back home, obviously.”

“What the fuck? Why?”

“Because I live there.” I shrug.

“Can you stop being a smartass for just a second?” he shouts.

I hold his gaze, my grin growing. “You wouldn’t love me if I did.”

It’s possible Mikah is still standing outside his room, gaping at the place I was standing on his stairs. That’s how he was when I walked out his front door. It’s been nearly an hour since I left the house, and he hasn’t come over here, hasn’t called or texted. I’m not sure what else he could possibly be doing.

But I feel better knowing he’s here. Even better that I know he cares that I’m here, too. The look on his face said it all: he was upset that I left—well, that he thought I left. That’s a nice reassurance after everything, or maybe I’ll be putting my foot in my mouth in another day or two, when he still doesn’t acknowledge me.

I never questioned Mikah’s feelings for me; I know they are there. This was never about that. It’s the order in which I’m important to him that matters. Am I the last thing he worries about, when there is a long line of things to worry about? Am I at the top of his list? I understand this hypothetical list is ever-changing depending on what’s going on in your life, but I can’t settle for always being at the bottom. In fact, I don’t think I should ever be past slot number three. Because seriously, what in life is more important than a partner? Children are important and should always come first, but I firmly believe that children and partners are sometimes interchangeable. Sometimes one needs more attention than the other, and that’s okay, because at the end of the day, they’re still top priority.

That’s all I want. I just want to be a priority to him, the way he is to me. I need to know that I matter enough for him to work on his crap. Maybe this is a start.

He’s back. He’s next door. He’s here. I’ve never been patient, and not that I am right now, but I will control my impulsiveness when it comes to Mikah. It’s the only way I’ll get anywhere with him, and today, I’m choosing his silence to be a good thing. He hasn’t told me he doesn’t want to be with me. No, he hasn’t said he does either, but that means there’s a chance. I’m choosing to look on the bright side of things because honestly, I don’t really know how to do the opposite. I’m aware of all the bad things that happen in life; I had a few really bad things happen to me. But life is good and there are so many amazing things to experience, and why the hell would you want to be miserable all the time when you can enjoy everything this world has to offer?

Maybe it’s pathetic how my mood has skyrocketed knowing Mikah is home—it may come back to bite me in the ass. But I’ll deal with that when, and if, it happens.

Tugging the fridge door open, I pull out a bottle of beer, pop the cap, and take a long pull. I shut the door and open the freezer, looking through the options for dinner. Not sure there’s enough time for any of this to thaw out, so it looks like I’m ordering in again. Shutting the door, I head to the couch but stop when the bell rings.

With my stomach in knots, I go to it, hoping it’s Mikah but bracing myself for it to be someone else. I pull the door open and there he is, looking more handsome than ever, but also sad, almost defeated. Definitely tired. But so fucking beautiful.

He shrugs, holding up the suitcases in his hand. “You still have that For Sale sign?” he asks. My brow furrows and he steps over the threshold. “I’m moving in. I guess.”

My eyes widen and I step back, allowing him more room to come in. He really looks like he’s about to move in, right this second. But there is one major thing missing—the cat.

“Can you say something, please? Because this isn’t easy for me and—”

For the second time today, I cut him off by kissing him. Thankfully this time he smiles against my lips, drops everything in his hands and cups my face, deepening the kiss. Blindly, I put my beer down on the table beside the door, not wanting to break contact, and slam the door shut, then grip on to Mikah.

His tongue slips into my mouth, and he nibbles on my bottom lip, his hands holding my face tightly. This feels right. All of this feels so goddamn right.

Mikah pulls back, resting his forehead against mine.

“I’ve missed you,” he breathes out.

“I missed you too, baby,” I tell him, running my hands up his back.

I can’t believe this is real. I’m so glad it’s real, but fuck, it’s hard to believe he’s back here.

I kiss him again, softly on his lips, the side of his mouth, his jaw, then his neck. I wrap my arms around him, just needing to hold him.

“Are you really moving in?” I ask.

“I’ve got all my stuff,” he says, pulling back and looking down at the one suitcase. “Important stuff anyway.”

“Where’s the cat?”

“I wasn’t sure about him, so I, uh, left him there.”

I chuckle. “You going to sell him with the house?”

“Well, no, but… I couldn’t just—”

I press my finger to his lips, and he snaps his mouth shut, smiling.

“I missed you,” I tell him again. This time slower, firmer, with more meaning. “I’m glad you’re here. I want you here, always. You and whatever comes with you. ”

He nods, still seeming a little unsure of this.

“The only way we are going to get this to work, Mikah, is if you talk to me, you know that, right? You have to be honest and open with me about everything.”

“I know. I’m working on it.”

I pull him in for another hug. “I’ll hold us together the best I can. I’ll even try to be your voice when you don’t have one.”

“Thank you,” he whispers, his voice cracking.

“I love who I am when I’m with you, who you allow me to be. I love us together.” I pull back again, looking into his eyes. “I love you and everything that you are.”

He smiles but ducks his head. “I’m working on believing that.”

“That’s all I ask for.”

Chewing on his lip, he looks back at me, searching my face. “I love you too, you know?”

I grin so wide it hurts. “I know,” I say.

“You know?” he asks.

“Of course I know, baby.”

And I have known. But despite what people think, love is not all you need. There are so many things that come into play when trying to make a life with someone, and too many people stick around just because they love someone. It’s not enough.

I never questioned Mikah’s feelings for me, I knew they were there. What I needed to know was that they were important enough to be put first. Am I worth more than his trauma? Maybe that’s not a great way to think about it, but in this situation, I think it is. Am I worth all the work he has to do on himself? I don’t want him to do it for me. He needs to do it for himself, but yeah, maybe I want him to do it because of me. Because I’m enough. Because he wants to be with me badly enough that he’ll deal with all the shit from his childhood. That a life together is worth going through all the hard stuff to get there.

All I ever wanted from him was his pain. I wanted to take it away, destroy it, and see him come out of his shell. There were cracks along the way, small pinpricks and even chunks on some days. But now? I’m pretty sure there are more holes than not, and that’s fucking progress.

I guide him toward the stairs, fully intent on bringing him to bed and showing him how much I missed him with my cock. But he stops me.

“Is that a new couch?” he gasps, eyes glued to it.

“Yeah, you said—” I stop talking when Mikah yanks on my arm, pulling me toward the couch. He shoves me onto it so hard it slides back about a foot, then he’s tearing his shirt off and crawling into my lap.

“Fuck, if all I needed to do was buy a new couch to make you want my dick so bad—”

“I always want your dick, Dominic. Now shut up and give it to me.”