The Dating Experiment (The Experiment, #2)(34)

I swallowed. I didn’t want to admit it. I was, shit.

I was afraid.

“It’s fine. You don’t have to agree, because I know you did, Chlo. You wouldn’t have kissed me back if you didn’t want me, too.”

“Why are you here now?” My voice was scratchier than I’d wanted, but I couldn’t stop my throat from being dry. It was a desolate damn desert back there.

“Because you got blind drunk last night and you’re working from home today, so I know you’re avoiding me.”

“Someone thinks highly of himself.” I snorted and pushed off the counter to walk into the front room.

His footsteps echoed after me. “You gonna deny it, Chlo? Gonna run away and tell me you didn’t fucking want me, too?”

“I didn’t say that!” I turned on the balls of my feet and pointed my finger at him. “I didn’t say that. I’m not saying that. I’m saying fuck you, Dom. So what if I got drunk last night and spent today in my pajamas? Does it matter? That doesn’t mean I’m avoiding you. That means I’m hiding while I mend my fragile, alcohol-broken consciousness.”

“You’re argumentative for a hungover person.”

“I’m not hungover!”

“Then stop using yesterday’s hangover as an excuse! I speak to my sister, you know. She told me you wolfed down a twelve-inch pizza for lunch like you’d never had anything to drink.”

I was going to kill Peyton.

I threw my arm in the air. “You know what? Go. I don’t want to speak to you right now. I don’t want you in my house. Get lost.”

“You’re not walking away from me, Chloe.”

I stopped and looked over my shoulder. “Looks like I am, smartass!”

He stormed toward me, grabbed my wrist, and yanked me against him. My heart thundered against my ribs, but I set my jaw and stared up at him.

“You don’t get to manhandle me like I’m a wonky pancake!” I snapped, wrenching my wrist out of his grip. “Be a civilized fucking human being, goddamn it.”

“You won’t listen to me!” His jaw twitched.

“You aren’t talking, Dominic.”

He ran his hand through his hair, exasperated. “I don’t know how to talk to you! You argue and fight and—fuck me, Chlo. You’re impossible. I want to talk to you, but I don’t fucking know how, and it’s driving me insane.”

I stepped back. “So, don’t. Don’t talk to me. Fight me. Scream at me. I don’t care, just spit it out.”

His nostrils flared. His inhale was deep and heavy, and his eyes shone with emotion I wasn’t ready to decipher.

He rolled his shoulders, clenching his fists at his sides. His gaze flickered away from me. Dark brown eyes hit the wall next to me before they slammed into me and held my own gaze hostage.

“I want you.”

I swallowed.

“I want you,” he repeated. “Is that clear enough for you? Will that you make you listen? Is this the fight you want? Where I stand here and tell you I didn’t kiss you to shut you the fuck up? That I kissed you because I couldn’t take not kissing anymore? Is that the fucking fight you want? The one where I win because I’m being so goddamn honest with you that you can’t do anything but stare at me like I just stepped on your kitten?”

Yes.

Yes.

It was the fight I wanted.

And it was the fight I was going to have.

“Why then?” I asked, my voice quietly but deathly. “Was it a spur of the moment? Did you plan it? Did you actually want to do it, or was it because you had the urge?”

“I kissed you because I wanted you so damn bad it hurt. I don’t need a reason for that.” His eyes were on fire—a roaring furnace of anger and honesty that burned brightly. “Why did you kiss me back?”

“I don’t need a reason for that!”

“You can’t throw my words back at me.”

“I can do whatever the hell I want!” I wanted to lash out, to hit the wall, to kick something. The anger and frustration that burned through my veins had been building for years.

I’d wanted this conversation for as long as I could remember.

Looked like I was finally getting it.





Chapter Thirteen – Chloe


Hindsight really was a bitch.

But it had nothing on the here and now.

“You don’t get to come into my house, into my space, and demand that I be nice to you.” I jabbed my finger at him. “You come in here and you be fucking nice to me, damn it.”

“You wanted me to be honest, so I’m being fucking honest.”

His eyes.

They were so bright.

So alive.

“Good for you. Have a gold star. My God, Dom, this isn’t how it works. We’ve hated each other for years. You want me to suddenly accept that you want me?”

“Hated each other my left ball!” he yelled. “Fuck me, Chloe, do you believe that? Do you believe that I hate you? That I hate the person who’s been my sister’s best friend since she was five? That I hate the person I’ve seen almost every day since then? Do you really fucking think I hate you?”

“You act like it.”