Roll the Dice

twenty-eight. nicely-nicely johnson

Dom brought up the topic again once we were at the punch table as I picked up two cups and handed one to him. "But really, why don't you want to be eighteen?" His eyes seemed to shine just a little brighter in that moment, and as I tried to convince myself to keep breathing, I blamed it all on the capricious afternoon sunshine in the middle of the summer. "You can vote then."

I let out a short laugh and sipped from the cup. "Responsibilities," I answered eventually. I frowned a little. "Bills. Life. You know, I'm completely aware that I'm probably super spoiled compared to a lot of kids in the world, and I don't know if, I dunno, I'm ready to operate without my parents behind me."

"Well, they won't always be on top of you now." There was a pause after Dom clamped his mouth shut once he realized what he said.

Dom really was so cute sometimes...even when he made unintentional innuendos.

Even my face was blazing, I couldn't help but laugh at his stupefied eyes, which were now on his cup of punch. To see Dom Amaro speechless was a one-in-a-lifetime sort of thing, and I laughed even harder, the punch in my hand splashing around. I slipped my arm through his, feeling his familiar warmth all over again.

"Well, I'm feeling just great about eighteen now, all thanks to you," I said, completely incapable of keeping the amusement (and sarcasm—actually, I wasn't really sure if I was being completely sarcastic about that) out of my voice. "My parents won't...be on top of me anymore."

Just from repeating that, I broke down again, and I had to put my punch cup back on the table, chortling until my stomach hurt so much that Dom had to physically support me. I hung onto his shoulder (which was still so way above my chin) and gasped for air. My chin hurt—how was I supposed to talk now?

"Shut up," muttered Dom sulkily. He took a sip from his punch cup, which he'd been holding in his other hand the entire time. "It's getting old."

I managed to gasp out, "Your...expression though!"

Dom kept his face so straight that after a couple minutes, all the humor faded out of me, and I stood upright, daintily drinking from my own punch cup with a pout. He was a killjoy sometimes, like Cara...who was sending the two of us a suspicious glance from the food table. I tilted my head up and met Dom's dark eyes.

"Hey," he murmured, lips twitching.

His lips were pink and full, and I was so ready to stand up on my tiptoes and just... Dom must have seen the intent in my eyes, and he leaned down slowly. I caught my breath—because his eyes were too much, and I could only get lost in them now...

But he stopped right when our noses touched. I could barely keep myself from swooning right then and there—then Dom would have to set his cup down down completely and hold me (the image was hot). What was taking him so long? Couldn't he tell that my body temperature was soaring, not only because of the heat but also because of him? And my heartbeat kept running away with the gentle breeze that blew...and I didn't know how long I'd be able to stay like this...

"I was never a fan of PDA," he whispered, and with that, he settled me on my feet with a little more stability and stepped away.

I could only take in a shallow breath and watch as he smirked at me.

"What?" he said defensively in a voice that was a little huskier than usual. Was it me, or were his eyes just a little darker? I brushed it off immediately—I didn't know if Dom's eyes could get any darker since they were already so impenetrable and gorgeous the way they were.

And of course, I was rambling again.

"Tease," I said breathily, and avoiding his eyes, I downed my cup of punch.