Flock (The Ravenhood #1)(65)

“Quiet?”

“Dom has been quiet and so has the traffic in his bedroom.” She grins at me. “It started right after the party.”

Faithful. She means faithful. To me? Before he even had an idea if there was an us? Does it matter?

The tug in my chest tells me it does.

“Try not to dwell on it, but look,” she pulls me over to the edge of the garage and scans the gathering. “How many women do you see?”

I examine the crowd, silently counting. Four, five, and the two of us amongst the twenty or so.

“There’s a reason you’re here.” The serious lilt in her tone has me searching her face, though I can’t see much due to where we’re standing. “And there’s a time and a place for fraternization and it’s definitely not on meetup nights.”

“Meetup nights?”

“You’ll see. But do yourself a favor and keep your wits about you, even though it will be hard. Especially with those two distractions.”

I nod and she laughs. “Lighten up, girl, it’s a party and you have the attention of two of the finest brothers. Come on.”

We’re in the midst of crossing the gravel walk when a rumble sounds at the mouth of the driveway and headlights shroud us in light. Bass rumbles from the sleek black car as my eyes drift to the driver. Dominic’s gaze paralyzes me, making me a literal deer in his headlights. He greets me by the twitch of his lips, his eyes sweeping me.

“Damn, to go back to the beginning again,” Layla sighs wistfully. “I envy you.”

Dominic stays in his car and with another rev of his engine the party disperses. Shortly after, engines fire up in every direction.

“Go with him,” Sean speaks up joining me where I stand. I glance his way, frowning.

“With him?”

He presses a kiss to my temple. “I’ll see you there. And don’t you dare smudge that fucking lipstick. That’s for me.”

I nod as he saunters off and round Dominic’s Camaro. He leans over and pushes open the heavy door. The minute it’s closed, I turn to him.

“He—” my greeting is cut short as we burst out of the parking lot, my laughter filtering out of the car. The hint of a smile unmistakable on his lips as the cars speed out, following us, and Dominic unleashes every bit of horsepower under the hood. Braced with one hand on the dash and the other on the car door, I squeal as we tear down the road.

This only seems to fuel him as he races down the straightaway for a mile or two before he slows considerably, taking turns, tracing every curve of the road.

I turn the radio down and he glances at me. “Are we ever going to have a real conversation?”

One side of his mouth lifts. “We had a good one not too long ago.”

“That’s not what I mean.”

“Want to start with politics or religion?” He chuckles darkly at my answering scowl before he shifts, pinning me to my seat as we race forward. “Eggs—runny, coffee—black, beer—cold, music—loud, cars,” he floors the gas.

“Fast,” I say through a laugh.

“Woman,” he turns and rolls his mirror colored gaze over me.

Woman, not women. I feel that comment so much I move to grip his hand, and he pulls it away before I reach it.

“I save that for when I can do something about it.”

“And you think that’s affection?”

“Isn’t it?” he takes a turn that has me yelping. That’s exactly what it felt like on the float. Like he’d been waiting for an eternity to touch me.

He’s the opposite of Sean in a lot of ways.

It’s not a fault, but something to look forward to.

“What makes you happy?”

He takes another turn, his forearm flexing when he shifts. “All of the above.”

“Runny eggs and coffee make you happy?”

“What if you woke up tomorrow and there was no coffee?”

I feel my brows pinch together. “That would…be tragic.”

“Next time you drink it, pretend it’s the last time you can have it.”

I roll my eyes. “Great, there’s two of you. Is that some life philosophy? Okay, Plato.”

“You can discover more about a person in an hour of play than you can in a year of conversation.”

I gape at him because I’m pretty sure he just quoted Plato.

“I was raised in a way I appreciate the small shit.” He looks at me pointedly and it’s then I understand his point fully. I saw the house he grew up in, and it screamed of poverty and neglect. He let me see it. My heart melts some at both his spoken and unspoken admissions as he makes a sudden turn and skids to park, cutting off his lights, leaving us shrouded in partial moonlight.

I lean up to peer through the windshield and see a crescent moon hovering above us. “Come here,” the order is whispered at my neck as he grips me and pulls me to straddle him, stealing the attention of the moon. I grin down at him as he slinks down in his seat, making enough room for us to fit comfortably between his seat and the steering wheel. The look he’s giving me is enough to make me forget myself. I lean in to claim his lips and he turns his head, dodging my kiss.

“He likes the red,” he runs his fingers through the hair at the back of my neck down to the ends and repeats the movement, his touch enchanting.