Two Can Play (Celeste and Dominic) novel Chapter 177

Chapter 177

CELESTE

Dominic moved closer and pulled me into his arms, wrapping me in a warm hug that pressed his body against mine, his arms tight around my back, his chin resting on top of my head. He held me like that for a long moment, not letting go, and I felt something loosen in my chest, something I had been holding tight without realizing it.

I asked myself why my heart was pounding so violently, I asked myself what this feeling was, the one that spread through my chest like warm water, the one that made me want to stay in his arms forever. And then I remembered what Pat had said. Infatuation. Attraction. Trauma bonding. This is it. This is exactly what she was talking about.

When Dominic pulled away, he held my face in his hands, his eyes studying me with art intensity that made me feel exposed.” Are you okay?” he asked. “You seem a bit on edge.”

I forced myself to chuckle, to relax my shoulders, to meet his gaze with something that looked like ease. “I am okay. I am very okay. It was just a bit of a long drive. Could not easily locate this place.”

“I would have had someone pick you up,” he said, his brow furrowing. “Why did you go through the trouble of driving yourself?”

“I am here, am I not? That is what matters.”

He smiled, the expression softening his features in a way that made my stomach flip. “Fair enough. You are welcome to my humble home.”

“You call this humble?” I asked, my eyes sweeping pointedly over the expensive antiques and furniture that filled the room. “I must say, this place looks different from the other places I have seen you in. I mean, there are more pictures on the wall.”

“Well, it is actually where I live now,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “You could call it my home.”

I nodded, the word settling into my chest with a weight I did not want to examine. His home. He had set my fingerprints to the

door of his home.

“Are you hungry?” he asked before I could dwell on it too long. “I was just in the kitchen cooking.”

“You cook?”

“Did I not tell you that I am a good cook?” he asked, his grin turning playful.

“I cannot really remember if you have mentioned it. I do know that each time I visited you, you always had food stocked up and just had to put them in the microwave.”

“Yeah, yeah, but I cook occasionally. And today I decided to make something for you since you were coming to my home.”

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