[Dedicated to Rosy, who is, actually, the first friend in real life that I've dedicated a chapter to. I don't know whether or not she's made a new Wattpad account, but anyway, I would like to thank her for being so gracious and a lovely writing buddy.]
By the way Cara and Dacey were sending sneaky glances to each other when they thought I wasn't paying attention, I really should have figured out what exactly was up their sleeves before I agreed to accompany them.
But again, I was absent-minded Lottie Ingham who truly, really wanted to get a certain dark-haired soccer player out of her mind, and I did set myself up for this. Besides, what place aside from the beach would get my mind off Dom Amaro?
I blinked several times in a useless attempt to get his face off my mind. But he was so gorgeous, and I did miss him so much—if I had to be completely honest, he'd grown to be one of my best friends (although he'd never quite grow into my replacement Cara, even though her personality matched with his the best). And God, I really wished I could hear him ramble on and on about Messi or goals or something.
This was going exactly against what I had been planning to do at the beach.
The three of us trudged through the sand, lazily scanning the shoreline for a place to set down our towels and beach umbrella (which, for whatever reason, Cara decided to lug along with us). It felt nice to have the sand sifting through my toes—I hadn't been to the beach in weeks now, mostly because I'd been spending so much of my time at the park with...Dom.
Why did all my thoughts somehow lead back to the stupid asshole?
Perhaps it had a lot to do with the fact that I had been spending so much of my summer with him these days.
I shook my head, squeezing my eyes shut for a second. When I opened them again, Dacey was sending me a concerned look even though her bright blue eyes were...well, bright. She was probably cooking something up in her mind, and she probably thought that she was doing me a favor in return for my setting her up with my brother. The only difference this time was that I didn't actually beg her to help me...
It was hot today, swelteringly so. In fact, if I were to go running today, I wouldn't be able to make it through four miles because of the horrible humidity during this late summer season. It was one of those days I'd have pools of sweat on my arms after a mere half hour of being outside. But really, it wasn't that bad—the sky was an incredible shade of blue that reminded me of Evan's eyes...and Evan was Dom's best friend.
I had an urge to slap myself.
Cara and Dacey exchanged yet another look in front of me (which so wasn't courteous), and then I felt an urge to slap them.
I spoke up just so they would stop with whatever was going on between them. "Are you guys gonna play volleyball today or something? Because what other things would we be doing here anyway?"
Dacey, suppressing a wicked smile, shrugged. "Well, how would I know?" She turned to Cara, who looked much more composed in comparison. "I mean, one can do plenty of things on the beach, and I wouldn't be one to restrict your freedom."
From the way she emphasized the word "plenty" and wiggled her eyebrows at me, I instantly knew that she was referring to something other than tanning and frolicking in the waves (even though the water was a lot colder now that the summer was starting to wane). She definitely had something up her sleeve, and I had a feeling that I wasn't going to like it too much.
But again, really, did I ever like anything that Dacey had up her sleeve?
Cara shrugged as well, keeping her face completely straight. She was so serious sometimes. Really, she made a brilliant actress, but it was rather unfortunate for her that I knew her too well to be fooled by that. Judging by the way she kept readjusting her grip on her beach bag, I could tell that she was completely aware of that fact.
Well, good thing at least one of my best friends wasn't completely deluded.
The three of us kept making our way through the sand. It was a little strange, really—we'd passed by several perfectly fine places to set down our stuff, and Dacey kept marching on like there were dinosaurs chasing after us. Every time I opened my mouth to stop her or helpfully contribute to our search for a place suitable to on Dacey, it seemed, she held up a finger and increased her pace, almost to the point that I, a cross country runner, had to jog to catch up with her, one of the most passionate anti-exercise advocates I'd ever met.
Finally, Dacey dropped her bag right next to a little structure, smiled widely, and waved at Cara and me as we attempted to catch up with her. "I," she announced, "am going to use the bathroom." And for whatever reason, her smile seemed to grow. "Cara, you're coming with me!"
And with that, Dacey snatched a startled Cara's arm and rushed into the ladies' part of the restroom structure so quickly that I believed for a second that Dacey was destined for a stellar track record.
Then, I frowned. Well, this was Dacey Carpenter, and really, since when did she traverse so quickly?
As I wondered about the mental state of my best friend, a shadow fell over my sandaled feet, and instinctively, I looked up...to meet the dark eyes I'd been dreaming about and hoping I'd never see again. Fuck Dacey's mental state—what was going on with mine?
No, I wasn't hallucinating. I assured myself of that fact by scrunching my toes together, feeling that familiar crack of my big toe. (My feet were accustomed to doing strange things.)
But this was much too...coincidental to be true. If I was right, a lot of this had something to do with a bitch named Dacey Carpenter and her sidekick, Cara Victore...
"You can't run away now," said Dom's husky, deep voice quietly. He gingerly stepped over the beach bags that Dacey and Cara and I (unintentionally, right after his gaze caught me) had dropped. Immediately, I felt my body temperature spike, and it seemed like there was a new sheen of sweat. I struggled to take a breath. Did he think I could run away now that he was standing there so close, smelling so fresh and musky the way he did, staring me down?
I couldn't respond, and for whatever stupid reasons, my brain flashed me back to the moment he'd confessed everything to me in the park right after an exhausting morning run...
Now I had another wave of guilt to further postpone my return to normal human communication. Great.
Dom's eyes gauged my reaction, and once they caught nothing, a corner of his mouth tightened, and he seemed to shrug. "Well," he said, with a little more impatience in his voice, "we should head off then."
It was probably the thought of being alone with him for more than five minutes that unstuck my mouth, and I squeaked out, "What about Dacey and Cara?"
"They'll be fine," Dom answered off-handedly, eyes looking somewhere behind me. I was almost tempted to turn around to see what he was observing, but there was no need for me to make more of a fool of myself. I wasn't going to fuck with my dignity like that. Dom continued, grabbing my bag from the ground (he knew which bag was mine!), "Come on."
And really, I had no choice but to follow him.
I had to jog to catch up with his ridiculously fast pace. Why was everyone walking so quickly today? My mind was racing—I couldn't figure out where he could possibly be taking me. How would I know?
But on my mini-run, which I realized was leading back to a little trail into the patch of woods that was conveniently located almost directly off of the beach, I took the time to breathe—which was ironic in a sort of way, considering that I was running and there seemed to be almost no oxygen at that moment. I had to relax. I had to be rational, because I supposed that now was the moment I had to own up to my own stupidity for Dom's sake.
It was all for Dom.
All right.
If I put things that way, this would be almost bearable. Almost.
Dom continued down the path into the forest, and I trailed him wordlessly. I had no right to complain about the run, really, even though I wasn't really prepared for how cool it would feel under the shade of so many trees. And besides, he had my bag. Who knew what secrets he could get from just that?
(None, really, since my life wasn't full of scandals for anyone to exploit.)
I really did hate how he didn't stop for me. What happened to the sensitive, kind of nice guy that I used to know?
(Why did I sound like I was one of his former sweethearts who rejected him years ago and, till this day, still regretted breaking his heart? But then, I had to take a second to think about it. It really did seem like I rejected him the other day by saying nothing.)
We finally stopped at a little bridge leading over a little stream, and I almost slammed into Dom's broad (and muscular and hot—but he was currently wearing a shirt, so I based all of my thoughts off previous experience). But his hands shot out, dropping my bag behind me, and steadied me. And we were standing so close once again, my hands resting on his (glorious) chest and my chin tipped so I could meet his eyes.
Dom took in a shaky breath and stepped back from me.
And oh my, did that sting, reminding me of the days I would be so offended every time he indirectly called Guys and Dolls and me stupid.
There was a second pause in which I tried futilely to subdue the heat in my cheeks and Dom looked into my eyes, his dark eyes revealing absolutely nothing.
"So, Lottie," he started, sounding almost dangerous in the way his voice dropped a couple decibels from before, "where have you been for, oh"—he let out a single laugh and tilted his head back, running a hand through his hair—"the last few days and weekend?" Even though he blinked at me, seemingly innocuously, I would have to be completely blind and deaf not to know that he was pissed. "Remember the movie night we had planned for this Monday?" he added with a twisted smirk.
I prayed my mouth would work.
And for once, the heavens seemed to be listening to me, because the words tumbled out of my mouth like a rush of water from an overflowing pitcher. "In one of the best scenes in the movie, Nathan Detroit begs Adelaide to forgive him for lying and never quitting his illegitimate and illegal business." With every word I let out, my eyes grew bigger. These were all the wrong words. I was really coming full circle with my irrational urge to rant on and on about Guys and Dolls in times of stress, wasn't I?
Dom seemed to be thinking the same thing by the way he raised his eyebrows at me, which efficiently shut me up. "Tell me what matters," he said in that same low voice, his eyes somehow glittering in the faded light streaming down through the trees.
"You totally dropped a bomb on me!" I babbled, my eyes still opened wide. "And how did you expect me to react?" Why couldn't I control myself now? Before I knew it, I was on my knees, completely tilting my head back to look at Dom. In the most mocking voice I'd ever heard myself use, I said, "Oh Dom, beautiful demigod, it's always been my wildest dream to be loved by you, and I completely and totally love you too?"
"Stand up and don't fucking mess with me like that," Dom shot back, taking another step back so that now he was standing on the little bridge.
I stood up. What was going on with me?
He was still asking me to say something with his furiously smoldering eyes, so I took in another breath through my mouth. "You can't order me around" were the words that popped out. I resisted the urge to cover my mouth—I'd already made a debacle of myself.
For a little moment, the tension in the air seemed to snap and dissipate as a couple of curious runners appeared on the path on which we were standing. Dom moved his eyes away from mine and took a step to the side, but then, as soon as they were out of earshot, his hard gaze assaulted me once again.
"Yeah, and you can't fucking leave me like that." He stepped closer to me, and I felt myself heat up so that the cold I felt in the shade meant nothing anymore. "You can't just run away twice and expect me to act like everything's normal." He glanced to the side, and his stormy eyes flashed. "Fuck you, Lottie."
Where did that come from? I kept backing up, and Dom kept following me. I couldn't tear my eyes away from his, not when he was regarding me like that, like he was going to rip me apart (and not in a good way). And of course, it was just like me to trip over a protruding tree root and my own beach bag as I was tiptoeing backwards.
Dom leaned forward and caught my forearms, pulling me closer to his warm, warm body. And we were just there, lost in this little bubble of whatever was going on between us. It shocked me at first to feel what seemed to be a wall against my back.
But when I realized what it was, I couldn't help but feel another rush of blood to my cheeks. Dom was fucking pushing me against a tree.
Was that hot or something?
And besides, our faces were inches away, and I could hear and feel every breath he took in the quiet of the trees. A couple birds chirped. There was the sound of the waves in the distance. And there we were.
Abruptly, Dom burst out, "I watched Guys and Dolls three fucking times over the weekend." He broke off, obviously intending to run his hand through his now completely messy dark hair, but he must have realized that we were in too tight quarters for him to do that. And so, he went on, "Three times. I don't know what's wrong with me, Lottie, and it's all your fucking fault."
He watched Guys and Dolls alone? And voluntarily? What had happened to the Dom I used to know?
Maybe I held a lot more influence than what Dacey gave me credit for.
"God, please," he said, his smoldering dark eyes scanning my face, "say something. For my sake."
And as if he thought he was ameliorating the process, he leaned in closer, and now, our noses were touching and my hands somehow made their way from the tree trunk to his chest. If I trailed them a little lower, I'd be able to feel his fantastic abs through his shirt... How was I supposed to concentrate like this?
So I did the only thing that I could possibly do at this point—and with no guilt. I'd thought and deliberated enough. And I missed him.
I kissed him. Lightly at first, because he wasn't moving, and for some reason, I was afraid that he would step away the way I did when he kissed me at the diner after his confession. But then, Dom let out a sigh through his lips, and suddenly, I felt his hand on my chin, tipping my chin up. I could feel every inch of his body on mine—the heat radiating from his body, the light layer of sweat on his arms—and his clean, woodsy scent surrounded me until I couldn't think anymore.
Dom twisted his head so that our noses rubbed against each other, and a little more insistently, he kissed back. I felt every bit of it—every single one of his movements, from his hand caressing my back to his quickening heartbeat. And God, how was I supposed to breathe? He knew what he was doing, and he knew he was doing it well.
By the time our lips broke apart, Dom's eyes had softened marginally, and he regarded me. I couldn't help but glance at his swollen lips and notice the way his breaths came a little quicker than before.
"Do you need me to say anything now?" I rasped, a little teasingly. What could I do now? Dom was now looking at me with hooded brown eyes that disarmed me during normal moments, let alone moments like this.
Dom shrugged, eyes still...looking like that. "I like to hear words come out of your pretty mouth," he said.
I must have flushed an extremely unappealing shade of tomato red because Dom broke out into a couple chuckles and pecked my cheek. He leaned back to where he was and raised his eyebrows at me expectantly.
Oh God. I was now going to confess my crush on him, which I'd had for about the entirety of my high school career. Hadn't I always been dreaming about this? And now that Dom was staring at me in the face like this, I was bound to flub this...horribly.
"You're, like, super hot and smooth and funny," I said out in one breath, "just like Nathan Detroit! Like, he's so cute when he begs for Adelaide's forgiveness by saying he loves her and that she should sue him for that if she won't forgive him, and—"
I could only see the flash of amusement in Dom's eyes before he leaned down and captured my babbling lips for another kiss.
I was in the middle of tangling my fingers in Dom's ruffled hair, sighing in contentment as he kissed my neck (I was a little afraid that he would leave a hickey or something, but I trusted him to think better against doing things like that), when I heard voices from afar. Dom was probably too occupied with what he was doing—and good God, he was good, even though I felt little twinges of pain every once in a while—to notice, but as I clung onto Dom, I diverted a little more of my attention (the little that I could spare anyway) to the voices.
"I told you they'd be here," said a voice that sounded suspiciously like Dacey's from a distance. "Lottie has a thing for trees and woods and flowery shit."
"Well, do you think—woah," responded Cara's voice.
Then it sounded like two people stopped barely five feet away from where Dom and I were—for lack of better description—making out, and I pushed Dom off me. He sent me a little hurt look, like I was going to reprise the ending of our last kiss at our other meeting, but then, as soon as he looked at my best friends, he took another step back.
Dacey marched up to Dom immediately, shaking a finger in his face. "I agreed to get Lottie to the beach to talk to you," she grumbled, although in such a loud tone that I swore all the birds within a five mile radius flew away in terror, "not to seduce her into"—she waved her hand vaguely—"doing your shit!"
"Well," Dom tried, but as soon as he caught Dacey's sharp eyes, he shut up. He could only sheepishly run yet another hand through his extremely, extremely wild hair as I gaped at the two of them. My suspicions were so correct! Why were these two conspiring? What the fuck was going on?
Cara claimed my attention by squinting and leaning in a little closer to me. It really did look like she was sniffing me or something by the way she was inspecting my collarbone. I instinctively covered it, for whatever reason, and demanded, "What?"
Stifling a giggle, Cara shook her head. "You immature, horny teenagers," she snickered.
I lifted my hand to look at exactly what she was going on about, and I came face to face with a reddish bruise that stung a little every time I poked at it—my first hickey.
Why did my life have to be this way?
↔
Hey guys! So today, I actually remembered to update rather than leaving it for way later...which is absolutely amazing--I know. I am an irresponsible butt sometimes, so sorry for that.
But anyway, the #Dottie ship has dodged another glacier after barely recovering from the other one! I really don't think this one needs much explanation, but what did you guys think of Dacey and Cara and Dom conspiring? That's definitely something that needs to happen more often. And also, Lottie also finally sees reason. Any other thoughts?
The namesake of this chapter is the very slick and smooth Nathan Detroit, about whom I rambled on for long enough. I don't really think I need to elaborate on him, but here's something: Dom is kind of like Nathan in Roll the Dice. (At least it seems that way for Lottie.) A picture of Frank Sinatra as Nathan is attached above! (This particular image is from the "Sue Me" scene--remember that chapter from earlier?)
We're getting pretty close to the end now (about three more chapters, if I'm right), so I'm going to be really sad when that happens :( But on a different note, I'm going to start working on another project, which will be called Chamomile, pretty soon. Keep your eyes peeled for details about that!
Lots of love,
Anne xo