ARIA'S POV
"I'm tired of restaurants," I said on a Tuesday, and Dominic looked at me across our coffee shop table and said, "Then come to mine. I'll cook."
Just like that. I accepted. Didn't think it through though.
No big gesture, no making it significant. Just an open door offered like it was the most natural next thing, which maybe it was, and I said yes before I'd thought about what yes meant.
I thought about it the entire cab ride over.
His building was on the waterfront side of the Pearl District. Floor to ceiling glass on the outside, a doorman who nodded at Dominic by name, an elevator that opened directly into the penthouse. I knew, intellectually, that he had money. The coffee shop, the restaurants, the way he moved through the world without friction, it was all there if yo
