A Memorable Power Ballad
The tinny music, amplified by the vase sitting on the kitchen counter, was bouncing around the room like an old friend. It was my favorite power ballad, the kind you can’t help but sing along to, especially when the mood hits. With a smile stretched across my face, I glanced at Dominic from underneath my lashes. His gaze was steady on me, intense and almost possessive, but there was a flicker of amusement in his eyes.
I couldn’t stop smiling, and it wasn’t just because of the music. The whole atmosphere was warm. Dominic and Hammer were sitting on barstools at the kitchen island, drinks in hand, while Joan and I continued to work seamlessly in the kitchen. We were well-practiced, so we were easily flowing in rhythms that only years of friendship could create.
