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But the truth was, despite the one meeting I’d successfully delivered Dom to this week, most days had been spent as the two of us driving around The Hollow under the guise that I was gainfully employed by the vampire. We both ignored the fact that Dom’s errands were complete baloney, despite my initial protests that this not be a shell job.
The simple explanation was that I was a big fat hypocrite.
As much as I’d insisted that Dom pay me to do real work, the truth was, I was guilty of using any and every excuse to see him that I possibly could. Starting from that first day of work when he’d rushed out of the shower to get coffee he didn’t want. A day that hadn’t ended until almost after midnight when I’d finally slunk back to my apartment and ignored Emmy’s questioning gaze.
The thing was, I liked spending time with Dom. The first time I’d accompanied him to his penthouse, we’d ended up talking all day. When the coffee had run dry and my stomach growled so loudly neither of us could ignore it, he’d ordered French toast from a little bistro down the block.
After the food was gone, we’d switched to wine on the balcony. Then we’d moved back inside and watched live campaign coverage and played a drinking game about how many times Lucas Paul the Third’s toupee levitated off his head.
I’d stumbled back to my apartment around two in the morning, mostly drunk, very full on upscale French toast, and buzzing with the aftereffects of spending all day with Dominic just... being.
What was happening between us could hardly be called a relationship. We’d only kissed once at Gran’s, but that kiss had done magnificent things to my body. It had flipped an almost primal-like switch that had me looking at Dominic in a whole new way. To finally stop begrudging him for the things I’d initially hated about him, and to see those things in a different light.
When he’d texted me the next morning with an offer of more French toast and conversation, I was powerless to refuse. We’d gone out to breakfast and lingered so long it had turned into lunch.
That evening, Dom had actually had a real, live dinner meeting—with a real life business partner—which I drove him to on official business. That part made me feel like less of a fraud, and I was grateful for it.
Even so, a part of me wondered if he’d magicked up the meeting just to give credence to the fact that he actually needed me as his driver, but I didn’t want to think about that too much because honestly, I didn’t care. I mostly just cared about spending time with him.
After dinner, he’d asked me to drive him to a cute little rooftop bar, and there was no way either of us were pretending that errand was a part of my job. Especially not when he took my hand and led me to our seats, or when he put his cool fingers on the small of my back and sent electric shocks to each individual vertebra in a way that wouldn’t look anything less than polite to a random bystander, but to me, felt momentous.
That night had led to a kiss goodbye. A breakfast date the next morning. The cycle began to repeat in a way that had the days blurring together in a belly-curling bloom of excitement. I stopped making a fuss about my job being real. Our kisses had become more frequent. The handholding was easy, natural. The nights got later and later, the mornings were now a pleasant, expected part of our daily routine.
At one point during the week, on an afternoon that Dom had been occupied with real work, a delivery had shown up at my door. A golden dragon fruit plant. I’d been talking to him about it earlier in the week, and he’d remembered. I wasn’t sure who he’d bribed to get ahold of one, and I wasn’t entirely sure that I was legally allowed to own it in the state of New York. But I doubted my landlord would complain. Seeing as I was practically dating him.
The plant had come with a signed book from the gardeners at Le Jardín, New York’s most wonderful magical garden. I’d spent every waking minute since—any minute not spent with Dom—watching my dragon fruit for signs of blooming. The time was here, finally, and I couldn’t tear my eyes away.
Except to check my phone for texts from Dom.
Me: How long til you get home?
Dom: Five minutes.
Me: Better hurry, this is rare!
The next time I got a response was when Dom knocked at my door. He brushed a kiss against my cheek, which sent flames licking down my skin, but for once, I was too distracted to dwell on it.
I grabbed his hand like it was the most natural thing in the world and tugged him into my bedroom. I’d moved the golden dragon fruit there just a few minutes before because it had the best dappled sunlight spot in the house.
“Look,” I gushed. “It’s starting.”
We spent the next seven hours lying on my bed, chatting and holding hands, exchanging the occasional kiss, waiting for the thing to bloom. Apparently this plant was a fantastic wingman. It provided me with a lot of quiet time in my bedroom with Dominic, a place I hadn’t taken him yet.
While we’d grown closer and closer over the past week, we’d never pushed beyond a kiss. A brush of the hair. A hug two beats too long. Not because we were short on desire—from either side. But because we were in this happy little bubble right now between friendship and something else... and that bridge into the something else made me nervous.
I didn’t want to lose my new friendship with him. This time of joy and excitement in my life, a relationship so hopeful and unlike anything I’d experienced before. And if we went there, then there was no going back. Especially if things went wrong.
“Sweetheart.”
The gentle whisper woke me, some hours and hours later, under the cover of twinkling stars and the cool breeze from my open window. Dominic had pulled me against him as I’d slept, and my warmth seemed to have seeped onto his much cooler body.
I almost didn’t want to move, to break from this precious cocoon, even to see a sight as rare and anticipated as the golden dragon fruit bloom. But Dominic’s breath sent trickling tendrils of excitement across my skin, and I reluctantly shifted into a sitting position as goosebumps traveled to my toes.
That was how we watched the bloom. A tiny spark of golden light, followed by the most delicate of white petals peeling open before us to release the most sweetly intoxicating scent. The sight was beautiful. The moment even more so—because his arms were wrapped around me. Because I didn’t want to be anywhere else.
A FEW DAYS AFTER THE bloom of the golden dragon fruit, Dom informed me that instead of our usual morning breakfast routine, he had a real appointment. Somewhere he needed to be. I went with him out of formality, really, because he insisted he wanted company.
This time, he drove. We’d been trading off driving for a few days now. We did still take my car, the last lingering fragment of my pretend job as his chauffeur. He didn’t tell me where we were going, and my curiosity was piqued as we arrived outside of a new apartment complex near the outskirts of The Hollow.
