In Love With Him

Chapter 52

Dominic – POV

I sat at the island in the kitchen, laptop open, fingers flying across the keyboard as I finished up the last few automotive repair questions for class. The assignment was due at midnight, but I wanted it off my plate before dinner. A half-empty mug of coffee sat beside me, forgotten and cold.

In the dining room, Mom and Paul were completely consumed by wedding chaos. The table was covered in color swatches, centerpiece samples, two binders, and what looked like six different seating charts. Paul was rambling on about boutonnière placement like it was a military strategy. I tried to tune them out, but Mom’s frustrated sighs weren’t exactly subtle.

I was just about to submit the damn thing when the front door practically flew off the hinges.

Kennedy burst in like a tornado with Finn and Marty trailing behind her like windblown debris.

“Dad?! DAD!” she called out like someone was dying.

Paul shot to his feet, nearly knocking over his chair. “What? What happened?!”

Kennedy had the biggest grin on her face. “They announced the school play for this year! And guess what it is—SWEENEY TODD!”

Paul actually gasped like someone just handed him Super Bowl tickets. “You’re kidding me! That’s my favorite!”

I blinked, completely lost. “What the hell is Sweeney Todd?”

All three of them turned to look at me like I’d just confessed to a felony.

Kennedy tilted her head, brows furrowed in utter disbelief. “Wait… are you seriously telling me you’ve never seen Sweeney Todd?”

I shrugged. “Should I have?”

Finn clutched his chest like I’d stabbed him. Marty stared at me like I just punted a puppy into traffic.

Kennedy scoffed and shook her head. “I’ve been living next to an uncultured swine.”

Before I could even respond, she marched around the island, grabbed my arm, and yanked me off the stool with more strength than I thought she had. “We’re fixing this. Now.”

I barely had time to react before she was dragging me to the couch like a hostage. “Uh… what’s happening?”

“Finn. Marty. Snacks. Drinks. Move!”

They saluted her like she was some theater general and scrambled to the kitchen like it was life or death. I blinked after them, stunned.

Kennedy shoved me down onto the couch with a surprising amount of force. I landed hard and couldn’t help the way my body reacted—her bossy energy was doing something to me, and not in a bad way. It was turning me on.

She grabbed the remote, turned on the TV, and navigated through the menu with terrifying determination. “We’re watching Tim Burton’s Sweeney Todd. The only acceptable introduction.”

Finn and Marty came barreling in with popcorn, chips, candy, and two cans of soda each like they were prepping for a marathon. They dropped everything on the coffee table and plopped down on the floor in front of us.

I tried to glance at Kennedy, but she must’ve seen it coming. She reached over and gently—yet firmly—pushed my face back toward the screen.

“Eyes forward, rookie. You’re about to be educated.”

I couldn’t help the grin tugging at my lips. I sank back into the couch, trying to focus on the dark, gothic imagery playing on the screen. But it was hard—really hard—when her bare thigh kept brushing mine, and her hand was sitting just inches from mine on the couch cushion.

My pulse kicked up a little.

I didn’t mean to, but slowly… cautiously… I inched my hand closer. Just to see if she’d move away. But she didn’t.

Instead, her fingers shifted slightly… then laced themselves with mine.

I swallowed hard, trying to keep my expression neutral as my thumb brushed against the side of hers. Luckily, Finn and Marty were too busy singing along to the lyrics with full-blown dramatic flair to notice anything.

Kennedy didn’t sing. She just sat beside me, fully immersed, her eyes wide with admiration and emotion. I could tell this movie meant something to her. And somehow, that made me like it more.

I sat there with my fingers tangled in hers, popcorn bowl blocking us from the world, and for the first time all week—I wasn’t thinking about anything else.

Not the s**t Kyle said.

Not my past.

Not what we were.

Just her.

And this.

---

Kennedy – POV

I sat cross-legged on the couch, shoulder just barely brushing Dominic’s. My eyes were glued to the screen, but let’s be honest—I wasn’t really watching the movie anymore.

I could feel him. Not just next to me, but with me.

When his fingers slowly crept toward mine, I felt every millimeter of space between us disappear like a slow burn. My heart thudded in my chest, loud enough I swore he’d hear it. But I didn’t pull away.

Instead, I moved my hand just enough to let him know.

Yes.

It’s okay.

The moment our fingers laced together, my stomach did this weird flip—half nerves, half butterflies on steroids. It felt right in a way I couldn't explain and definitely shouldn’t feel. But I didn’t care. Not right now.

I kept my eyes forward, pretending like everything was normal while Finn and Marty sang full-throated renditions of “A Little Priest” and “Epiphany,” shoving popcorn in their faces between verses like it was their last meal.

I couldn’t stop smiling.

And Dominic was smiling too. I could feel it, even without looking. His thumb brushed against my hand every few minutes, not in a s****l way—just sweet. Reassuring. Like he needed to make sure this was real and I wasn’t going to pull away.

The movie was nearly over when Finn turned back to us and asked dramatically, “Tell me you’ve been emotionally wrecked by this cinematic masterpiece.”

I blinked and cleared my throat, pulling my hand from Dominic’s just in time. “I’m emotionally wrecked just from your singing,” I teased.

Marty flipped me off while still chewing. “Rude.”

Dominic chuckled under his breath beside me, and for a second, everything felt light and normal.

Until it didn’t.

Because when I looked at him again—really looked—I saw it in his eyes. That sadness. That guilt. That thing he always tried to hide behind his smirks and smart-ass attitude. And yet… he was here. With me. Holding my hand. Choosing to stay.

I wondered if he felt as wrecked as I did.

“Movie night success,” Finn announced, dramatically collapsing back onto the carpet like he’d just run a marathon.

“I need a water,” Marty said, hauling himself up and heading toward the kitchen.

Finn followed close behind, leaving just me and Dominic on the couch in silence.

We didn’t say anything.

We didn’t have to.

I slowly leaned my head against his shoulder, careful and soft.

He didn’t flinch.

He didn’t move.

He just… let me.

I could hear his heart pounding under my ear. I closed my eyes and smiled, letting myself enjoy the moment before it disappeared—because with Dominic, moments never stayed still for long.

I closed my eyes, sinking deeper into the warmth radiating from Dominic. His shoulder under my cheek was solid and steady, his scent—cologne and engine grease and something purely him—wrapped around me like a blanket. For a second, I let myself believe this could be something.

Safe.

Simple.

Ours.

But of course, the universe had other plans. Or more specifically… Marty did.

“Kennedy! Come on, we need to get your outfit together for Friday!” she shrieked from the kitchen doorway like a tornado in platform boots.

My eyes snapped open, my head jerking up like I’d been caught doing something I shouldn’t. Which… I guess I was.

Dominic shifted beside me, turning his head slightly. “What’s Friday?” he asked casually. Too casually.

I opened my mouth.

Nothing came out.

Panic settled into my chest like ice water.

Then, because she was Marty and had zero chill, she blew it wide open with a bubbly grin. “Kennedy’s got a date.”

It was like a punch to the chest—for both of us.

I watched it unfold on his face in slow motion. The flicker of confusion. The way his jaw clenched. The slight downturn of his lips. But what got me most was his eyes—eyes that moments ago had been soft and warm. Now they were shuttered. Distant. Guarded.

And just like that…

Guilt crashed into me like a freight train.

I shouldn’t feel like I did something wrong. I mean, technically, Dominic and I weren’t anything. But still… it felt wrong. Like I’d betrayed something sacred. Like I’d cheated.

I parted my lips to explain, to say it wasn’t really like that, that I panicked and said yes and it didn’t mean anything—

But I never got the chance.

“Come on, fashion crisis emergency!” Marty declared, grabbing my hand and yanking me off the couch like a lunatic on a mission. Finn trailed behind her, already rambling about accessories and eyeliner.

I didn’t even get to say goodbye.

As I was dragged up the stairs, I looked back.

Dominic was still on the couch, his jaw tight, his eyes glued to the screen—but I could tell he wasn’t watching the movie anymore. He was a million miles away.

And somehow, that hurt more than anything else.