In Love With Him

Chapter 53

Dominic – POV

I sat there, still as stone, the credits rolling across the TV screen like they were mocking me.

A date.

She had a f*****g date.

The moment the word left Marty’s mouth, it was like my body forgot how to breathe. I felt it—sharp and brutal—right in the center of my chest. And the worst part? I couldn’t even say anything. Couldn’t react. Couldn’t claim anything.

Because what the hell was she to me? My stepsister?

No.

She was everything.

And that was the goddamn problem.

I hadn’t even realized I was gripping the couch cushion until my knuckles went white. My heart was pounding, hot and erratic in my chest. I kept hearing it on a loop.

Kennedy’s got a date.

She’s going out with someone else.

I pressed my tongue against the inside of my cheek and looked down at our hands—well, where our hands were. The space between us was empty now. Cold. Hollow.

That warmth I’d felt just moments ago? Gone.

Replaced with a tight, searing jealousy I hadn’t been prepared for.

I wanted to follow her up the stairs.

Wanted to ask who the hell he was.

Wanted to rip the damn date out of existence.

But I didn’t move. I couldn’t.

Because the moment I opened my mouth, the truth would come out. That I wanted her. That I loved her. And if I said it… out loud, there would be no going back. And I didn’t even know if she wanted me that way. Not really. Not beyond the stolen moments, the lingering touches, the unspoken things that never made it past our lips.

Was this her way of telling me?

That she was moving on?

That I’d taken too long?

I sat back slowly, dragging a hand down my face and letting out a harsh breath through my nose.

I couldn’t stop thinking about the way she looked at me on Thanksgiving—when she stood in front of me in that little dress, letting me touch her thigh, not stopping me. There had been something there. Something real. But now…

Now she was upstairs picking out an outfit to wear for someone else.

And I was still here.

In limbo.

Stuck in my feelings for a girl I wasn’t supposed to love, well love that way.

I stood up abruptly, the silence of the house pressing in on me like a weight. My fists clenched at my sides. I needed air. I needed space. I needed something to stop me from grabbing her and begging her not to go out with him.

Instead, I headed outside.

The second the heavy door shut behind me, I was already walking toward my car. My safe space. My distraction. My escape.

I popped the hood and let the scent of grease and steel fill my lungs. I grabbed a socket wrench and went to work like a man possessed—trying to push the image of her out of my head. Her laugh. Her eyes. Her hand in mine. Her body pressed to me on the couch.

God, I was so screwed.

And I didn’t even know if I had anyone to blame but myself.

---

Kennedy – POV

I stared at the dress hanging on my closet door.

It was a soft black off-the-shoulder knit dress, fitted through the waist with long, slightly puffed sleeves. A white ribbon threaded through the wide neckline was tied in a small bow at one side. The hem was short, mid thigh, flaring slightly with a peek of white ruffle underneath—simple, elegant, and just a little playful.

Marty said it was perfect classy but a little sexy.

But all I could think was… it wasn’t me.

And it definitely wasn’t what I wanted to wear for Liam.

God, what the hell was I doing?

I flopped back onto my bed, my hair still damp from the shower, skin still warm from the heat. My phone sat beside me like a ticking bomb. No new messages. Not that I expected any.

Not from him.

Dominic.

I let out a slow breath and closed my eyes, trying to chase away the memory of the look on his face downstairs. He hadn’t said anything—but he didn’t have to.

I saw it.

The flicker. The pain. The hurt.

He looked at me like I’d betrayed him.

And maybe I had.

But why did it feel like that?

Why did agreeing to one simple date with Liam make me feel like I was cheating? Like I was doing something wrong?

Because deep down… I knew why.

Because Dominic wasn’t just anyone.

He wasn’t just my stepbrother or the guy who saved my life.

He was the one I dreamed about.

The one I craved.

The one I wanted more than anything in this whole goddamn world.

And it scared me.

Because if I admitted that, if I said it out loud, then everything would change.

I rolled onto my side, clutching the pillow to my chest, my mind racing back to that moment in his room—his hand on my thigh, his eyes on my lips, the heat between us simmering just beneath the surface.

He wanted me. I knew he did.

And I wanted him back. So badly it physically hurt.

But nothing had happened. Not really. Not all the way. Because just like always… something got in the way. Life. Timing. Fear. Guilt.

And now here I was, lying in bed trying to convince myself that going on this date with Liam might be good for me. Might clear my head. Give me clarity.

A part of me even hoped that maybe… if Dominic really felt something… this would finally make him say it. Do something. Fight for me.

But what if he didn’t?

What if I went on this date and he just let me go?

I swallowed hard at the thought and blinked up at the ceiling, feeling that familiar ache settle in my chest again—the one that only he ever seemed to cause.

I didn’t want Liam. Not really. Not like that.

But I didn’t know how much longer I could keep holding onto something with Dominic that only lived in whispers, glances, and almosts.

If he wanted me… truly wanted me…

Then maybe it was time he stopped hiding behind the rules and just said it.

Because I wasn’t sure how many more “almosts” I could take.

I must’ve fallen asleep at some point, my thoughts still tangled in Dominic’s eyes, in the lingering feeling of his fingers barely grazing my skin.

The heaviness in my chest followed me down into sleep.

And that’s when the dream started.

I was back in his room.

The air was thick—humid, almost—and the light that crept in through the cracked blinds cast long, golden shadows over the hardwood floors.

He stood by the window, shirtless, his back to me. The muscles in his shoulders flexed as he ran a hand through his hair.

My heart pounded, but it wasn’t fear. It was need. Deep, aching, breathless need.

He turned slowly, like he knew I was there all along. His eyes locked on mine, sharp and soft at the same time. Hungry.

“Come here, princess,” he said, voice low, rough, and full of something I’d never heard before—ownership.

I moved toward him like I wasn’t in control of my body, only my heart—and it was dragging me straight into him.

When I reached him, he didn’t hesitate.

He reached out and gently tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, then ran his thumb down the line of my jaw, over my neck, lingering there—where my pulse was thrashing beneath my skin.

“You drive me crazy,” he whispered. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

My breath caught.

He leaned in, and I felt the heat of him, the way his chest pressed against mine. Bare. Hot. Solid. His hands slid down my arms, slow and deliberate, until they were at my waist—fingers dipping beneath the hem of my shirt.

He pulled me closer.

Our lips hovered. Barely touching. Breathing into each other.

And then he kissed me.

Not like before.

Not quick or unsure.

This was slow, deep, like he had all the time in the world to savor the taste of my lips. His tongue brushed mine, and I whimpered into his mouth. My knees went weak, and I gripped his arms to keep from melting into the floor.

His hands traveled lower, over the curve of my hips, gripping them with reverence. He pressed me against the wall, lips trailing down my jaw, my throat, whispering things I couldn’t make out—but I felt them. Felt every word in the heat spreading across my body.

“I need you,” he murmured against my skin. “I’ve always needed you.”

I gasped when his hands slid under my thighs and lifted me effortlessly. I wrapped my legs around his waist, my fingers digging into his shoulders as he carried me across the room and laid me down on his bed.

He hovered above me, eyes devouring me, his chest rising and falling like he was trying to hold back everything he wanted to say. Everything he wanted to do.

He lowered his mouth to mine again, this time with even more hunger. More desperation. My body arched to meet him as his hands roamed, setting every inch of me on fire.

His hand cupping my breast, then making his way down my side making her shiver. Then his hand reached my thigh, he moved his hand in-between them slowly making his way up.

And then—

“KENNEDY!”

I jolted awake, sitting up in bed, my heart thudding like a drum in my chest, sweat clinging to my skin.

Max was outside my door, yelling that breakfast was ready.

“Be down in a sec,” I croaked, my voice barely working.

As his footsteps retreated, I collapsed back against my pillow and covered my face with both hands.

Jesus.

It felt so real. I could still feel his mouth on my neck. His hands gripping my waist. That voice—low, dark, possessive—I need you.

My thighs clenched together.

I let out a shaky breath and stared up at the ceiling, trying to get my heart rate under control.

What the hell was happening to me?

I’d never felt this way about anyone. Ever.

But Dominic… he wasn’t just anyone.

He was everything.

And that terrified me more than anything.