The Dating Experiment (The Experiment, #2)(41)

“You do all those things?” she said softly, lips parted.

“Of course, I do. I also change out your pens when the ink is getting low and make sure your computer is connected to the WiFi after a power outage. I also make sure there’s enough ink the printer if I know you need to print stuff. I even switched our keyboards that time yours stopped working and bought a new one, then switched them back just so you had the new one.” I shoved my hands in my pockets. “Just…making sure it’s not hard for you to do your job. Working with me is frustrating enough without having to cope with all that.”

She looked away, swallowing hard. I swore there were tears in her eyes, and that twisted my gut into fucking knots. Stupid stuff—stupid shit that had become a routine for me that I thought she knew about.

I walked over to her, instantly bringing my hands to her face. She was crying, and I hated it. I hated that I was the reason she was crying. I hated that I’d said all that when I should have just taken her at her word and left.

“Don’t cry,” I whispered. “God, Chlo. Don’t cry.”

“Why?” she whispered back, lifting her tear-filled eyes to me.

I watched as one tear spilled over and caught it with my thumb. “Because. I’m fucking crazy about you.”





Chapter Fifteen – Chloe


What. A. Clusterfuck.

Dom dipped his head, touching his forehead to mine. His hot breath danced across my parted lips, and his thumbs gently swiped away a tear that escaped from the corner of my eyes.

If I had to tally how many times I’d wanted to hear those words from his lips, then I was gonna need more paper.

Now, it’d happened. He’d told me the one thing I’d always wanted to hear, except now I wasn’t sure I did.

Up until a few days ago, I’d made my peace that this was over. I had to move on, and we’d never be together.

Then, I’d gotten drunk.

I’d gotten drunk, and before I’d passed out, I’d texted Warren about a second date. Something I’d forgotten about until I’d woken up forty-five minutes ago and seen his text asking if we were still on for tonight.

I couldn’t think of anything that I wanted to do less, especially after what had happened today. But, I couldn’t cancel. It was too late, and I didn’t really have a viable excuse to cancel.

“I’m seeing Warren tonight,” I whispered.

Dom’s inhale was sharp, as was the way he released me. I swiped at my cheeks, furiously removing the lingering wetness from the few tears that had made it past his thumbs.

I opened my mouth to explain why I was going, how it had happened—but I couldn’t. Even if I did, I knew it’d be a waste of time.

Because he didn’t give me the chance to explain.

By the time I’d formed a sentence in my brain, my front door slammed shut.

I slid over to the chair and crumpled into it. No more tears came out, but I stared through the little view I had to the hall and at the front door. I wanted him to turn around and come back and demand to know why, but I knew he wouldn’t.

That was Dom.

He was like Peyton. He’d fight you until he was blue in the face, but the second you hurt him, he was done talking to you.

And I’d hurt him. I didn’t need to be a genius to figure it out. Fuck, he’d just said everything I’d ever wanted to hear, and my response was to tell him that we’d never work, and I was seeing another guy for dinner tonight.

I buried my face in my hands. What was wrong with me? He was literally everything I’d ever wanted, and I was running away from the situation like he was trying to poison me.

My phone rang from somewhere in the house. I ignored it. I didn’t want to speak to anyone right now. I didn’t care if it was my mom or one of my best friends or even Dom himself.

I just needed to be alone.

I needed to be alone to figure this all out in the hopes I didn’t fuck everything up.

Any more than I already had, that was.

***

I put the phone face down on my bed and stared at it. I had it on silent because I was supposed to meet Warren in an hour, yet I was seriously thinking about canceling. I knew he’d be on his way, and this all made me a terrible, terrible person.

To everyone.

I wasn’t sixteen, so why the hell was I acting like it? I was twenty-seven, for the love of God. I needed to get my shit together. I either wanted Dom, or I wanted to see where it went with Warren.

He was the easy choice, believe it or not. He had everything I wanted in the perfect guy.

But he wasn’t Dom. And being the perfect guy didn’t necessarily equal being the right guy. If Warren was the right guy, I wouldn’t be thinking about canceling the second date.

Would I?

No. I knew the answer.

But did that mean Dom was the right one?

I picked up my phone and opened my group chat with Mellie and Peyton. Apparently, being alone wasn’t cutting it. It’d been three hours, and all I’d achieved was folding my clean towels.



Me: I had sex with Dom.



As expected, the messages came thick and fast.



Peyton: WHAT

Mellie: REAL SEX OR DREAM SEX

Peyton: WHAT

Peyton: WHAT THE

Mellie: Chloe explain