In Love With Him

Chapter 38

Kennedy’s POV

Just as I slowly shuffled out of the bathroom, still a little breathless from the pain and embarrassment, the door creaked open—and there he was.

Dominic.

His brows furrowed with concern as he instantly crossed the room to me like I was made of glass, wrapping a strong but careful arm around my waist and slipping the other under my arm to support me.

“I’m okay,” I mumbled, trying to hide the little smirk tugging at my lips. “I’m not completely helpless, you know.”

Dominic grinned, his voice teasing but gentle. “I know. But lucky for you, I happen to enjoy being helpful.”

I rolled my eyes but let him help me anyway. He moved with such quiet strength, like he’d been doing this his whole life—supporting others, anticipating their pain before they even felt it. I wasn’t used to this... to someone revolving their world around me. I’d always been the one doing the caretaking, holding things together while everything around me cracked. It felt... foreign. Strange. But not bad.

Good, actually. Really good.

With every slow step down the hallway and toward the stairs, I watched him. Really watched him. His face was focused, but relaxed. There was a kind of ease in the way he carried himself, but underneath that laid a deeper current—a constant awareness of me, of my limits, of how much pain I was in even when I wasn’t saying it.

He was patient. Steady. Gentle.

Safe.

And then there was how he looked. I’d never noticed him like this before—not really. His soft brown hair was messy but effortlessly styled, the kind that looked like he’d just run a hand through it and it landed perfectly. His jawline was sharp, dusted with the perfect amount of scruff, and his full lips were naturally curved into something between a smirk and a smile. His eyes... they were deep and kind, but mischievous—like he was always seconds from teasing you but would still fight anyone who hurt you. The dim lighting of the house made his cheekbones more defined, the slope of his nose, the sharp lines of his neck and shoulders—he looked like someone you’d see in a magazine and assume was airbrushed.

And he was helping me walk down a flight of stairs like I was his whole world.

The pain meds were definitely kicking in—my body was warm and buzzy, and the pain had dulled to a distant ache—but even that couldn’t fully explain the way I was hyperaware of every place his fingers touched my side. His scent was everywhere—sandalwood and something earthy and clean, grounding me with every breath. My thoughts were foggy and fluttery at the same time, and I couldn’t stop staring at him.

We made it down the first flight of stairs and paused on the small landing. I was trying not to breathe too hard when Dominic, eyes still facing forward, said under his breath, “Keep staring at me like that, and I may just have to take you back upstairs... lay you down and spend the rest of the night snuggling you.”

I blinked. My brain stumbled over itself. Did he just say that?

Was it the meds?

My mouth opened, but nothing came out. Instead, I stared straight ahead, my face hot, and let him lead me the rest of the way down.

The last few steps were slower, but we made it, and I felt like I’d just completed a triathlon. As soon as we walked into the dining room, I spotted Helen and Dad finishing setting the table. Even Max was helping, which almost made me laugh. That was a first.

When Max saw me, his eyes lit up like Christmas morning and he bolted over to pull out my chair, puffing his little chest proudly like he’d just opened a car door for royalty. Dominic helped me lower into the seat, supporting me with such care I didn’t even wince.

“Wow,” I giggled softly, “Is this what it feels like to be a queen?”

Dad chuckled from the other side of the table. “Looks like those pain meds are working.”

Dominic settled into the chair beside me—not too close, giving me space, but still close enough that his knee brushed mine and I could feel the warmth of him there. Ready. Just in case.

Helen walked over and set a steaming bowl of creamy soup in front of me. “High-protein puree,” she said with a proud smile. “I made it for Kyle when he had his gallbladder removed. Delicious and filling.”

I took a tentative spoonful and was surprised—it was actually really good. Warm, smooth, comforting. I didn’t have the appetite of a lion, but I managed to eat more than I expected.

After dinner, I didn’t want to be alone. My body was tired, but my brain was still wide awake and full of fluttering warmth and pain-med haze. I asked if we could watch something in the living room.

Max immediately picked a romantic comedy—of course. He claimed he hated them, but he always picked them. Dominic helped me to the couch and gently laid me down on the end, propping me up with pillows like I was made of porcelain.

He sat beside me, stretching out just enough that my legs rested across his lap. His hand found my shin without hesitation, and he started to rub slow, gentle circles with his thumb. It was nothing, and everything, all at once.

Max curled up on the floor right in front of me, practically glued to the couch cushion near my upper body, his presence grounding and sweet.

As the movie played, I barely noticed what was happening on screen. I was too focused on the feeling of Dominic’s hand on me. On the way his thumb moved absentmindedly but tenderly, like he didn’t even realize he was doing it. On the way his body curled slightly toward mine, as if even from this angle, he was shielding me from everything.

I wasn’t used to being the one taken care of. I wasn’t used to anyone rearranging their world around me.

But with Dominic… it didn’t feel like a burden.

It felt like love.

And that terrified me.

And thrilled me.

All at once.

After the movie, the soft glow of the TV flickered across the room, casting gentle shadows on the walls. I felt the warmth of Max’s little body curled at by my arm, and Dominic’s hand still lightly resting on my leg. My eyelids grew heavier with every passing minute, the pain meds working their magic, lulling me into a comfortable daze. I hadn’t felt this peaceful in… maybe ever.

I didn’t want to move. I didn’t want to ruin this feeling.

But eventually, I knew I had to get up. The last thing I wanted was to fall asleep on the couch and wake up in worse pain than I started with.

I shifted slightly, just enough to catch Dominic’s attention. He looked down at me with those soft, alert eyes, reading me like a book.

“You’re tired,” he said, his voice low and knowing.

I gave a small nod. “A little.”

Dominic didn’t even hesitate. “Alright, up we go.”

Before I could protest—or even process—he slid one arm under my knees and the other around my back, lifting me off the couch in one smooth, careful motion. I gasped slightly, more from surprise than pain, but he adjusted his grip instantly, holding me like I was fragile porcelain. Like I was the most precious thing in the world.

My heart stuttered in my chest.

Cradled against him, I could feel the steady rhythm of his breathing, the strength in his arms, the way his hold on me was so secure—so safe. I didn't even realize I had instinctively nestled my face into the warm crook of his neck until I breathed in deeply and murmured, half-asleep already, “You smell good…”

He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating in his chest against mine. “Thanks, princess.”

His voice was warm and quiet, like a lullaby.

I was barely conscious by the time he carried me up the stairs, careful with every step like I might shatter. He pushed open my bedroom door with his foot and brought me to the bed, gently lowering me down onto the mattress with an ease that made it feel like floating. The sheets were cool and clean, and he took the time to tuck them carefully around me, smoothing them down like I was a child being put to sleep by someone who truly cared.

And just as I drifted into the haze of sleep, barely aware of where the dream began and reality ended, I swore—I swore—I felt the soft brush of lips press against my forehead.

A kiss.

Light. Gentle. Real.

And then everything faded to black, with the echo of his warmth still wrapped around me like a promise.