Beautiful Graves(47)

I don’t know how to answer that. I mean . . . yes? No? Sometimes?

“No,” I say, finally, because it’s not his fault that I’m completely messed up and obsessed with his baby brother.

“It’s settled, then. When Nora moves out, you’re moving in with me.”

“Let’s pin this conversation,” I suggest.

Dom presses his thumb against an imaginary pinboard between us with his hand. “All right, but I’m not going to forget. You don’t have to be alone anymore. I’m here to help, babe.”

Something between appreciation and anxiety stirs in my chest. I lean to kiss him. With his hand pressed against the small of my back, he pulls me down on top of him. He splays my thighs on either side of his waist and pushes me down, taking charge. I can no longer postpone the inevitable. He reaches between us, under my skirt, and nudges my underwear to the side, his thumb rubbing against my entrance. I’m soaking wet. Even when my brain is unsure of Dom, my body has no doubts. I’m embarrassed and annoyed and, above all, confused.

He stares at me lazily, through hooded eyes. “I want to make love to you,” he says. And I can’t deny him. This is what we should be doing. A young, happy couple in our prime. I’ll get over Joe. Now that he is no longer a faded, romantic memory but a real person, always within reach, the glow of his greatness will diminish.

“I . . . ,” I start, but he is already inside me. Still fully clothed, after tugging his sweatpants down.

I gasp in surprise, digging my fingers into his shoulders and pulling back. Dom grabs my ass and pushes me over his erection, filling my insides until I feel my lips hitting the root of him.

“Ahhhh.” I throw my head back, the pleasure too intense, too addictive.

It is good, but it is also different. The entire time we have sex, I feel disconnected. Like I’m floating, hovering, not present in the situation. It almost feels like masturbation. We both come. When Dom collapses by my side, spent and sweaty, I realize we didn’t kiss the entire time we were having sex.

He picks up a lock of my hair and twirls it around his forefinger. “Oh, I almost forgot.”

“Hmm?” I smile up at him, feeling like a china doll. Precious and fragile and incredibly empty. I can feel the echo of each of my heartbeats.

“Seph suggested we all grab lunch sometime this week. Apparently, he’s feeling bad for not giving you enough attention during Christmas.”

I forget how to breathe. Or, at the very least, do it incorrectly. I’m heaving.

“What do you think?” he asks.

Dom can’t possibly know what I’m thinking. I don’t even know what I’m thinking. Yet his shoulder tenses against mine, his whole body bracing itself for some kind of a blow.

I can’t stop thinking about your brother. I never stopped thinking about him. I hate that I do. I hate that I can never make a good choice in my life.

I lean down to catch his lower lip between my teeth, sucking it into my mouth. “He doesn’t have to do that. I’m not grilled cheese. Not everyone has to like me.”

“You are so grilled cheese, Lynne.” Dom pulls away from our kiss, looking serious and determined and . . . sad, I think? But why? “In fact, you are a perfectly glazed doughnut. Just like the one you give me every morning.”

Almost every morning. I still keep my Girlfriend Promise to him.

“So what should I tell him?” Dom eyes me curiously.

Is he catching up on things? No way. He’d say something, surely.

The answer, of course, is Hell to the no. I don’t trust myself around Joe. I especially don’t want to be alone with the two brothers, tucked between my almost-forever and my maybe-future. I don’t know what business Joe has suggesting this in the first place. His last words to me were Stay the hell away from me. Not exactly what I call a heartwarming invitation. Maybe he wants to prove a point. To show me that he is committed to his supportive-brother act.

Or maybe it’s not an act. Maybe he is doing this for Dom. In which case, he is certainly more honorable than me, because I’m not willing to subject myself to this kind of emotional inferno.

Either way, I’m not sure what the correct answer is. I don’t know if Dom wants me to make an effort or not. Right now, he looks a little iffy about the whole thing. So I try to play it by ear.

“Let me look at my schedule this week, and I’ll get back to you, okay?” I run a hand over his pecs.

He looks at me a moment longer before he clasps my hand, kissing it. “I can tell him what you just told me. That you’re having a busy month. He’ll understand.”

It looks like Dom isn’t eager for us to do a three-way meetup either. It suddenly occurs to me that he might know more than he is letting on. He might’ve even seen Joe and me in the backyard. When we fell into each other’s arms and the entire world melted around us. The idea that he knows makes my chest hurt.

“You’re a pal.” I offer him my pinkie finger. “I’ll let you know when my schedule clears up a little. Deal?”

He curls his pinkie through mine. “Deal.”

“I love you, Dom.”

“Love you, too, babe.”

And he must, because even though we can’t find my earring, the very next day, he surprises me at work with a new set of earrings. Solitaire diamonds.