To Love & To Hold

Chapter 7

Ericka's expression softened. "Yours," she whispered.

His bedroom was messier than he would have liked, clothes draped over the desk chair, textbooks stacked haphazardly on the nightstand, the bed only half-made from his restless night. But Ericka didn't seem to notice or care as he lay her gently on the mattress.

"Wait here," he said, disappearing into the hallway. He returned a moment later with her favourite pillow from her room, the lumpy one she'd had since freshman year that she refused to replace, and the worn copy of Wuthering Heights from her nightstand.

"In case you can't sleep," he explained, setting the book beside her.

Ericka's eyes glistened. "You know me so well."

"Three years of paying attention." He sat on the edge of the bed, smoothing the blanket over her. "I noticed everything, Ericka. Even when I was pretending not to."

She caught his hand before he could pull away. "Stay with me?"

Dominic kicked off his shoes and stretched out beside her, careful to maintain a respectful distance. But Ericka immediately closed the gap, curling into his side with her head on his chest. He wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close.

"This is nice," she murmured, her voice already heavy with exhaustion.

"Yeah." He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "It really is."

For a long moment, they lay in comfortable silence. The afternoon sun had shifted, casting long shadows across the bedroom floor. Somewhere outside, a car door slammed, and birds chattered in the trees near the window.

"Dominic?"

"Hmm?"

"What happens now?" Her fingers traced idle patterns on his chest. "With us, I mean. Are we... what are we?"

He considered the question carefully. "What do you want us to be?"

Ericka propped herself up on one elbow, looking down at him. Despite the dark circles under her eyes and the pallor that still clung to her skin, she was beautiful. She'd always been beautiful, but now he could actually let himself think it.

"I want..." She bit her lip. "I want to be yours. Really yours. Not just roommates who happen to have feelings for each other. I want the whole thing, dates and anniversaries and fighting over whose turn it is to do dishes and making up afterwards."

"We already fight over the dishes," he pointed out, a smile tugging at his lips.

"You know what I mean."

He reached up, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "I want that too. All of it. I want to take you on actual dates instead of pretending our study sessions aren't excuses to spend time together. I want to introduce you as my girlfriend, not my roommate. I want to fall asleep next to you and wake up with you still there."

"That sounds..." Ericka's voice caught. "That sounds perfect."

"Then that's what we'll do." He pulled her back down against his chest. "But first, you're going to sleep. We have plenty of time to figure out the details."

She mumbled something that might have been agreement, already drifting off. Within minutes, her breathing had evened out into the slow rhythm of deep sleep.

Dominic lay awake for a while longer, staring at the ceiling, hardly daring to believe that this was real. Twenty-four hours ago, he'd been convinced he'd ruined everything. Now, Ericka was asleep in his arms, and the future stretched out before them, full of possibility.

His phone buzzed on the nightstand. He reached for it carefully, trying not to disturb her.

A text from Marcus: How is she? You find her, okay?

Dominic typed back one-handed: She's fine. She's home. Thanks for letting me know.

Marcus's reply came quickly: So... about that apartment listing. You two finally figure your s**t out?

Dominic glanced down at Ericka's peaceful face, at the way her hand rested over his heart even in sleep.

Yeah, he typed. We figured it out.

Good, coz I had to message her brother, your best friend, Maxwell, don’t be shocked if he turns up in the morning. Sorry, man, I couldn’t hide it. He messaged me after you didn’t answer him.

Dominic glanced at his phone and groaned. Maxwell. Of course. He should have expected this. As Ericka's overprotective older brother and Dominic's best friend since high school, Maxwell would be halfway to their apartment by now, probably breaking every speed limit.

He sent a quick text to Maxwell: She's okay. Resting now. You don't need to come.

The response was immediate: Too late. ETA 7 AM.

Dominic sighed, careful not to disturb Ericka. This is a complicated thing. Maxwell had been the one who'd warned him years ago to keep things strictly platonic with his little sister. "Don't mess with her head," he'd said. "Either date her properly or keep it professional."

And what had Dominic done? Created that ridiculous contract and then broke it in the most confusing way possible.

The weight of Ericka against his chest felt right, perfect even, but now anxiety crept in. What would Maxwell say? Would he understand, or would this damage their friendship beyond repair?

Ericka stirred, mumbling something in her sleep before settling again. Dominic tightened his arm around her. It didn't matter what Maxwell thought. He wouldn't let anyone come between them now, not even his best friend.

His eyes grew heavy as the day's emotional rollercoaster caught up with him. Just before sleep claimed him, he pressed a gentle kiss to Ericka's forehead. Whatever tomorrow brought, they would face it together.

The insistent buzz of his phone woke him. Dawnlight filtered through the blinds, painting stripes across the bed. Ericka was still curled against him, her breathing deep and even. Dominic reached for his phone, squinting at the screen.

Maxwell: Downstairs. Let me in.