In Love With Him

Chapter 41

Dominic – POV

I didn’t say anything when Marty brought up Mr. Beckett, but I felt it. That weird gut-clenching twist of something hot and sharp—I knew it wasn’t rational, but it was there. Jealousy, protectiveness… whatever the hell you want to call it. Just the idea of some grown-ass man, a teacher, paying special attention to Kennedy made me want to punch a wall. Or him. Definitely him.

I kept my mouth shut. Paul was standing right there, and Marty and Finn weren’t exactly the picture of subtlety. The last thing I needed was to add more fuel to the fire, especially after what Paul walked in on earlier. That look on his face when he saw Kennedy's head on my lap was the kind of look that told me I was already hanging on by a thread.

They all went upstairs, and Paul made his way to the kitchen to start dinner, but the air was still thick with tension. I could feel it pressing between my shoulder blades like a weight. I knew he wasn’t done with me—not even close.

Before he had a chance to corner me with whatever warning was brewing in that lawyer brain of his, I slipped away and made my way up to the third floor. I needed space. And maybe—if I was being honest—I needed to breathe.

My room was just a few feet away when I heard them. Kennedy. Marty. Finn.

Her bedroom door was cracked open. I didn’t mean to stop. I really didn’t. But I heard me being mentioned.

Marty's voice loud and teasing, “Sooo… how was spending some... alone time with your ‘stepbrother’ all week?”

I froze.

Kennedy groaned. “You’re impossible.”

I stepped closer—quiet, careful. My heart was already thudding in my chest.

Marty being a lunatic. “What? I haven’t been laid in a week. I need something hot and juicy.”

“Marty, what do you think we’ve been doing? I’ve barely been able to wipe my own ass or put a tampon in.”

I blinked. My ears were burning.

Then Marty all but screamed, “Wait. Did Dominic help you put your tampons in?!”

My soul left my body.

“NO! For f**k’s sake, go watch some porn, you horny skank!”

I bit the inside of my cheek to stop from laughing—and also dying from secondhand embarrassment.

Finn chimed in like he was front row at a comedy show. “Okay but seriously—what did you guys do for a whole week if it wasn’t super inappropriate?”

Kennedy replied so casually it made my chest ache. “He made me lunch, made sure I rested, we watched Euphoria on his laptop… and we, I don’t know… snuggled.”

Snuggled.

I had to put a hand against the wall to keep from staggering.

Finn choked. “Did you just say snuggled? Who even says that? What are you, a Victorian orphan?”

Marty howled. “That’s some pre-pubescent Twilight type of energy right there. Someone who's never seen a d**k before."

“Oh my God,” Kennedy muttered, “I have seen a d**k,” she snapped defensively.

Marty wasn’t letting it go. “Seeing one on Euphoria doesn’t count! I mean a real one. On a real man. Up close. Preferably in good lighting.”

My jaw clenched. Why the hell was I still standing here?

Finn added, “Girl, we seriously need to get you laid.”

"Oh my God!" Kennedy muffled.

But Marty doubled down. “Im serious, as soon as you’re fully recovered, we’re going on a mission. Operation: Get Kennedy Laid.”

“Nope,” Kennedy groaned, through a pillow, “We’re not doing that.”

Marty snorted. “Then we’ll call it Code: DK69 – Deflower Ken.”

I slowly backed away from the door, heart pounding so loud I was sure someone could hear it echoing off the damn walls.

They were joking—I knew that. Mostly. But hearing her talk about me… like that. Hearing her say we snuggled—which, yeah, we kinda did—something shifted in my chest. I couldn’t name it. Couldn’t fully understand it. All I knew was I wanted to go in there, throw Marty and Finn out the window, and wrap Kennedy up in my arms like she was mine.

Which, of course, she wasn’t.

And that was the f*****g problem.

I made it to my room before I exploded.

I shut the door a little too hard, my hands balling into fists at my sides. The echo of her voice—“We watched Euphoria… we snuggled”—was still playing on repeat in my head like a broken record. But it wasn’t even that part that got to me. It was them. Marty. Finn. Joking—laughing—about getting her laid.

About someone else touching her. Kissing her. Being with her.

The thought made something snap in me.

I didn’t know this kind of jealousy was possible. I’d had crushes before. Hookups. Girls who clung to me like I was the best thing that ever happened to them—but this? This was something entirely different. It was sharp and raw and buried so deep in my chest I couldn’t shake it off. Not even if I tried.

And I was trying.

I needed to calm down.

I grabbed my phone off my nightstand, walked over to the Bluetooth speaker on my dresser, and synced them up. Music usually helped. It had always been my way to tune out the world. Find the beat, bury the chaos.

The speaker buzzed to life, and the first song started playing.

"Girls like you love fun and yeah, me too..."

I groaned. "Seriously?" I threw myself backward onto the bed, landing with a thud and dragging a pillow over my face.

Fucking Maroon 5? Right now?

I didn’t even know that song was in my playlist. I must’ve added it ages ago. Or maybe Kennedy did when we were messing around with my phone earlier this week. That would be just my luck.

The words “I need a girl like you” hit me square in the chest like a punch I didn’t see coming. And the worst part?

I did need a girl like her. No—I needed her.

And I couldn’t have her.

“Dammit,” I muttered and blindly reached for my phone, smacking at the screen until it skipped.

The next track started.

“Want to, but I can't help it, I love the way it feels

It's got me stuck between my fantasy and what is real."

I froze.

The opening notes of Because of You by Ne-Yo spilled from the speaker, and just like that—every wall I’d tried to put up cracked right down the middle.

No. Nope. Absolutely not.

I sat up, ready to change it again, but I didn’t. I just sat there… letting it hit.

Because every single damn lyric felt like it had been written for me. For this.

“And I know that much is true... Baby, you have become my addiction...”

I swallowed hard, staring blankly at the wall.

I didn’t want to feel this way. I didn’t want to fall for someone I couldn’t have. Someone I shouldn’t want. Kennedy was… off-limits. Not because of Paul. Not even because of the whole step-sibling situation. But because she trusted me. She let me take care of her. She let me see the most vulnerable sides of her, and she didn’t flinch.

I was supposed to protect her, not want her like this. Not ache for her.

But f**k… I did.

I pressed the heels of my hands into my eyes and sighed, trying to quiet the war inside my chest. Trying to force myself to be better. To set the boundaries she deserved, even if it killed me a little.

But there was one thing I knew for certain, it was this:

If Kennedy ever gave her heart to someone else… if I had to watch her fall in love with someone else, let someone else touch her, kiss her, hold her—

It would wreck me.

Absolutely f*****g wreck me.