In Love With Him

Chapter 10

Dominic’s POV

She slammed the door before I even had the car fully in park.

Didn’t even wait for me to say anything.

Just—bam. Gone. Vanished inside.

I sat there in the dark, fingers tight around the steering wheel, the cool leather warm from my grip. The engine hummed quietly beneath me.

Then I let out a low breath and whispered to no one:

“Fuck.”

That look on her face—like I’d shattered something delicate and important without even realizing I was holding it.

I ran a hand through my hair and leaned my head back against the seat.

Why did I say that?

Why did I laugh?

I wasn’t trying to hurt her. I was trying to distract myself, to lighten the mood, to shove down this chaotic mess of want and guilt and possessiveness that I had no right feeling. But the second she flinched… the second I saw her trying not to cry…

It felt like someone kicked me in the chest.

I never cared about girls’ feelings before. I mean, I never hurt them on purpose, but if someone got a little clingy or emotional, I usually peaced out and moved on.

But Kennedy?

She wasn’t just another girl.

She wasn’t supposed to be any kind of girl to me at all.

So why the hell did I feel this torn up?

I finally shut the engine off and got out, my boots crunching quietly against the gravel in the driveway. The house was dark, only the porch light glowing. Midnight had long come and gone.

I walked up the steps slower than usual, every one of them weighed down with something heavy I didn’t want to name.

Inside, everything was still. The quiet kind of still where you could hear your own heartbeat echo in your ears.

I padded quietly up the stairs. First floor. Second. Then the third.

My floor. Her floor.

Our floor.

I stood in front of her door for a second, hand lifted… but I didn’t knock.

I just… listened.

I leaned in slightly, pressing my ear to the wood.

At first, I heard nothing.

Then—soft. Barely there. A faint sniffle.

I pulled back, jaw tightening.

She was crying.

Goddammit.

I looked up at the ceiling and dragged a hand down my face before finally, gently, knocking.

No answer.

I slowly turned the knob and pushed the door open.

The room was dark, faint moonlight spilling in through the window. It glowed across the floor, catching the soft curves of her form under the blankets.

She had her back to me, her bare shoulders peeking out, and her clothes were already in the hamper. Her hair was still curled from the party, a few strands sticking out messily across the pillow.

Then she spoke.

“Go away.”

Her voice cracked mid-sentence.

I swallowed thickly and stepped closer.

“Kennedy…”

I sat on the edge of her bed, trying not to make the mattress shift too much.

“I’m sorry.”

She didn’t say anything.

I exhaled slowly. “I didn’t know. About… you know. I wasn’t trying to make you feel small. I swear, I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Still nothing.

I hesitated, then gently placed a hand on her side, over the blanket. She tensed at first… but then slowly relaxed beneath my touch.

Her voice was barely above a whisper when she said:

“It would’ve been my first real kiss…”

I stayed quiet.

She kept going.

“My first kiss wasn’t even a real kiss. Some boy was dared to do it by a group of girls. They all laughed when it happened. They still laugh now. They still bully me.”

My jaw locked.

I stared at the shadows on the wall in front of me, the pressure building in my chest.

“You don’t deserve that,” I said lowly. “None of it.”

Still silence.

Then I added, quieter this time:

“You’re smart, Kennedy. And funny. A little weird—” I felt her exhale a short laugh, despite herself. “But... beautiful, too.”

Another pause.

“When the time comes, you’re gonna make some guy really happy.”

She shifted slightly, turning just enough for me to see her face in the moonlight.

Her eyes were glassy, and a few tears streaked across her cheeks.

“Do you really think so?” she whispered.

I hesitated.

I wanted to say I know you will. And I wish that guy could be me.

But I couldn’t say that. I wasn’t allowed to want that.

So I just nodded slowly, brushing a strand of hair out of her face.

“I know so, Princess.”

She stared at me for a long moment.

Then she closed her eyes, another tear slipping down her cheek.

I reached for it without thinking—my thumb brushed it away gently.

“Get some sleep,” I said softly. “I’ll make sure no more assholes try to kiss you.”

Her lips quirked into the tiniest smile. It barely lasted a second, but I saw it.

I stood, hesitating one last time at her doorway.

And then I left, closing the door behind me.

I closed her door quietly behind me, the soft click echoing louder than it should’ve.

I just stood there for a second, staring at the wood grain like it held the answers to the war going on inside me.

Then I turned and walked the short distance to my room.

The moment the door shut behind me, I let out a heavy breath and ran both hands down my face.

What the hell was I doing?

Why did it feel like I’d just broken something fragile and irreplaceable?

I didn’t mean to hurt her. And now that I had, something in my chest wouldn’t stop aching. It wasn’t just guilt—it was something else. Something heavier. Hotter.

It was the way her eyes looked in the moonlight. The way her voice cracked when she told me the truth. The way she curled into her pillow like she wanted to disappear.

And worst of all?

It was the way I wanted to crawl into that bed beside her and hold her. Just hold her. Make all the broken parts stop hurting. Tell her the truth—that she was more than enough. For anyone. For me.

I sat on the edge of my bed, elbows on my knees, heart thudding like I’d just done ten rounds in the ring.

The image of her standing at the beach with that guy—Liam, or whatever his name was—flashed in my head. The way he leaned in. The way she looked up at him.

It burned.

It burned.

I’d never been jealous before. Not like this. Not with this kind of fire in my veins. I’ve had girls all over me, and I never cared if they were flirting with other guys before. But with Kennedy?

Just thinking about him kissing her made my jaw tighten.

Then came that moment. In the car. When she didn’t say anything… and I knew.

I knew the truth before she said it.

She’d never been kissed.

And if that was true—then she’s definitely never…

The thought hit me like a freight train.

Kennedy was a virgin.

My breath caught in my throat. My pulse jumped.

The image of her standing in the shower slammed into me like a sucker punch. That flawless porcelain skin. That soft black hair. Those thick thighs, those round hips, that tight waist. And her face—innocent, yet defiant. Like she didn’t know how goddamn stunning she was.

And now? Knowing no one’s ever touched her before?

No one’s ever kissed her?

Jesus.

My body reacted before my brain could stop it—heat surged straight to my core, a low thrum of arousal humming in my blood.

I dropped back on the mattress with a groan and stared at the ceiling.

What the hell is wrong with me?

She’s your step sister, man. You can’t think about her like this.

But I already had. And I couldn’t stop.

I kept trying to tell myself this was just me being protective. A good older brother figure. Watching out for her, making sure she wasn’t getting used by some guy who only wanted one thing.

But that was bullshit.

Because the truth?

I didn’t want her kissing anyone else.

I didn’t want her looking at anyone else.

And I sure as hell didn’t want anyone else being her first.

Not when every fiber of me was screaming that it should be me.

That I wanted to be the one she trusted. The one she gave herself to. The one she remembered for the rest of her life.

I sat up abruptly and ran my hands through my hair again, trying to shake the thoughts loose.

This was bad.

This was really bad.

I needed a distraction. A shower. A cold one. Maybe a punch to the face.

Anything to get the image of her, soft and warm in bed behind that door, out of my head.

Because if I didn’t…

I might do something I’d never be able to take back.