My mood is shit.
After Matt’s suspicions, there was no way I could get Mia all to myself tonight. I didn’t even offer her a ride home because he beat me to it. And now? We live under the same goddamn roof, but it feels like we’re worlds apart.
I think it’s finally time to get my own place.
My phone dings, and my heart leaps. Hoping it’s a message from Mia, I quickly unlock it. Instead, Remi’s name stares back at me, making me scoff.
Remi:
I miss you so much. Can’t wait to see you!
I clench my jaw. When did she say she’d be back? I can’t fucking remember. I haven’t really paid attention to anything she says for a very long time.
I take a drag of my cigarette and lock the screen again. Her desires are no longer my problem. This time, I’ll make her listen.
My phone pings again, and I unlock it despite my frustration. This time, it’s my uncle. Just the sight of his name makes me grin.
Brody:
Hola Dom! Wanted to ask you for a favor
Me:
What’s up?
Brody:
Think you can help me with Leo’s birthday present? I want to buy him a car
Me:
Sure! What are we looking for?
As I wait for him to give me details about the car he wants to give his eighteen-year-old son, I put the cigarette out, toss the butt into the trash can, and head back into the house.
The second I step inside, I stop in my tracks.
Fuck me.
Mia is standing by the fridge, wearing an oversized white T-shirt and a tiny pair of shorts that make her bare legs look exceptionally long. I amble over to her, adjusting my hardening cock. I make it halfway before she closes the fridge, a bottle of sparkling water in her hand, and sets her sleepy eyes on me.
“Why are you up?” She gives me a teasing smile. “I peeked in your room around midnight, and you were snoring.”
“I don’t snore.” My heart thuds heavily in my chest as the scent of her perfume envelops me. “I woke up a little bit ago and couldn’t get back to sleep. Decided to come down for a cigarette.”
She wrinkles her nose. “I can tell.”
My phone dings again. It’s probably Brody, but there’s also a chance it’s Remi. She never sends just one text at a time.
Mia nods, brows lifted. “Don’t you want to read it?”
“Nah. It’s from my uncle. He’s in Spain, so he probably didn’t consider the time difference. He asked if I could help him find a car for my cousin. His eighteenth birthday is coming up.”
She stares at me long and hard, her expression unreadable. “Right. And I’m Marie Antoinette, the last queen of France. Try again.”
My chest tightens. I don’t like the look of distrust on her face or how easily she assumes the worst. I step into her space, forcing her back against the fridge, and tilt her chin up.
“You always this mouthy before bed? Or is it just for me?”
