In Love With Him

Chapter 7

Kennedy’s POV

Over the next few days, I avoided Dominic like the plague.

And honestly? I was killing it.

He barely came home since his car finally arrived — some matte black 1969 Camaro from California that looked like it had just rolled off a movie set. Restored to perfection. The engine purred like a monster. It screamed testosterone and trouble.

Fitting.

Meanwhile, I buried myself in my baby — my 1962 Corvette Stingray sitting half-gutted in the garage. I’d spent most of the afternoon with the hood up, sleeves rolled, hands wrist-deep in the engine. I was finally almost done reconstructing it. Just a few more tweaks and she’d be faster than anything Dominic brought in.

The thought made me smirk.

But the grin faded when I heard Dad’s voice from the garage entrance.

“Dinner in twenty. Wash up.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I mumbled, wiping my greasy fingers on the bottom of my tank top. I looked down at myself. Covered in oil, dirt, sweat, and who knows what else. I needed a real shower.

I climbed the stairs two at a time, heading for my room. The third floor was quiet — a good sign. I peeled off my clothes, tossed them straight into the hamper, and made a beeline for the bathroom. I turned the knob for the waterfall shower and stepped into the warmth, the glass door fogging behind me within seconds.

Steam swirled around me, curling against my skin like a soft blanket. I lathered shampoo through my curls, massaging my scalp before rinsing. Then came the body wash — I scrubbed my arms, stomach, thighs, shoulders. Oil and grime slid down the drain, replaced with vanilla-scented suds. It felt good — peaceful even.

Until I heard the door open.

I froze.

Footsteps. Heavy. Confident.

Shit.

The fog on the glass made everything a blur, but there was no mistaking the outline of him.

“Dominic?” I snapped, voice sharp and alarmed. “What the hell, dude? I’m showering!”

Silence for a beat — then the sound of him laughing under his breath.

“I’ve got a date,” he said, like that explained anything. “I need to get ready. You’ve got sixty seconds before I hop in.”

My jaw dropped. “Excuse me?!”

“You heard me,” he said, his voice casual… too casual. “I’m not waiting. Either move it or make room.”

He was bluffing. He had to be.

“You wouldn’t,” I dared.

A pause.

Then the click of the bathroom door opening… wider.

I spun, water dripping down my back as I tried to cover myself with my arms and hands. “Dominic!”

The door creaked, and through the foggy glass, his silhouette stepped in fully.

He wasn’t naked — thank God — just shirtless and cocky, holding a towel around his waist like this was his bathroom, his space.

“I warned you, princess,” he said, voice low and smug. “You could’ve avoided this.”

My pulse went haywire.

He didn’t step into the shower — not yet. Just stood there, his blue eyes fixed on me, daring me to say something else.

“You’ve got balls,” I hissed, trying to cover myself with my hands and arms as best I could.

He didn’t look away. “I’ve been told.”

I narrowed my eyes. “You’re disgusting.”

“And you’re taking your sweet time.”

I turned off the water with a huff, heart racing and skin still burning from the heat — and from him.

“Turn around,” I snapped.

He smirked. “Why? Nothing I haven’t seen before.”

My face flushed crimson. “Turn. Around.”

He held up his hands mockingly and faced the wall, still grinning like a wolf who just cornered his prey. I quickly ran out the shower door and bolted to my towel, wrapping it tight around myself like a suit of armor.

“Seriously,” I muttered as I stormed toward my room. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Thanks,” he called back. “You too, by the way.”

I slammed my bedroom door and let out a strangled groan.

He was insufferable.

He was impossible.

And worse than that… part of me didn’t want to stop thinking about him.

---

Dominic’s POV

I didn’t mean to start something.

Okay — maybe I did.

But I didn’t expect that reaction.

I came upstairs after doing some last-minute polishing on the Camaro before my date. I needed to rinse off quick — wasn’t trying to get fancy, just soap and go. I figured if Kennedy was in the bathroom, she’d hear me come in, curse me out, and storm out like always.

Instead… she didn’t leave.

She hesitated.

So I tested it.

Dominic?” she snapped, “What the hell, dude? I’m showering!”

“I’ve got a date,” I called through the door, loud enough to carry through the foggy glass. “I need to get ready. You’ve got sixty seconds before I hop in.”

No immediate exit.

No door slam.

Just silence.

I grinned.

Either she was frozen in shock — or she was curious. Either way… I pushed it.

“Excuse me?!”

“You heard me,” I said. “I’m not waiting. Either move it or make room.”

Another pause.

Then: “You wouldn’t.”

That grin of mine stretched wider. God, she was fun to mess with.

I opened the shower door slowly, letting the warm steam roll out. She was standing their trying to cover herself the best she could with her arms and hands, lucky for her there was so much steam she was barely visible — but the shape of her was there. And I wasn’t made of stone.

The curves. The silhouette. The long legs, the slope of her waist, her arm instinctively covering across her chest. Her other hand covering her lower half—

Jesus.

I kept the towel around my waist and leaned on the wall like I had all the time in the world.

“Dominic!” she snapped, voice high with a mix of panic and fury.

She sounded breathless.

I didn't know if it was because she was pissed… or something else.

“I warned you, princess,” I said, trying to keep my tone casual. “You could’ve avoided this.”

She looked like she wanted to murder me.

And somehow, that just made her hotter.

Her cheeks were flushed, hair sticking to her neck from the heat, her arms crossed tightly — but I still caught the flicker of her eyes when they dropped to the towel slung low on my hips.

And I caught the way she froze.

I hadn’t even done anything yet. Hadn’t moved. But I could feel the power shift in the room.

You’ve got balls,” she hissed.

I couldn't help but smirk. “I’ve been told.”

She narrowed her eyes at me. “You’re disgusting.”

“And you’re taking your sweet time.”

She was stubborn — I’d give her that. I halfway expected her to lunge for her towel and shove past me, screaming murder.

But instead… she stood there.

Chest rising and falling with those slow, rattled breaths.

She quickly turned off the water, “Turn around,” she barked.

I didn’t.

Not at first.

“Why?” I asked. “Nothing I haven’t seen before.” Yet.

I watched her wrestle with herself — pride vs mad.

Damn she was sexy when she was mad.

I wasn’t ready for the show to end.

“Turn. Around,” she growled.

I sighed, playing along. “Fine.”

I turned to face the wall — grinning.

TI heard the fast shuffle of wet feet, the snatch of a towel, the quick slap of it wrapping around her body.

Part of me wanted to turn, just to catch a glimpse.

I didn’t.

Barely.

But I did listen.

I heard the rush of her breath, the soft cursing under it, the wild energy of someone flustered and angry and way too affected.

“Seriously, You’re unbelievable,” she hissed on her way out.

I called after her without thinking.

“Thanks. You too, by the way.”

The bathroom door slammed.

And I leaned against the counter, heart racing like I’d just finished a round in the cage.

What the hell was that?

I didn’t even see her full-on, and I was still rock hard under the towel. Just the sound of her breathing, the blurry outline of her body through the glass, the way she looked at me like she didn’t know whether to kiss me or kill me—

It left me lightheaded.

I caught my reflection in the mirror. Still smirking like an i***t.

You’re playing with fire, Marsh.

And if you’re not careful…

You’re gonna get burned.