Almost Perfect Read online

  Mom and Lincoln keep the conversation going during the meal but the awkward tension never goes away. Dominic talks to Lincoln and my mom, not even looking in Simon’s direction. It is hard to know what to say to Simon and after I’ve asked him some lame questions about him and his sister I give up.

  “Excuse me.” I push up from the table once we have all finished and make my way to the bathroom. I’m exhausted and can’t wait to get home. We still have a long drive ahead of us, and then I want to fall into bed. Yeah, that sounds good. Bed and Dominic always sound good together. Plus, I can sleep on the drive home and then I’ll have more energy.

  Lost in my thoughts of Dominic and getting him home, I don’t look where I’m going and walk out the door and straight into someone. Hands reach for me, catching me by my shoulders before I fall backward. When I look up to apologize, I see it’s Simon. His eyes hold an amused glint, but something darker flashes across his face.

  “Sorry, sorry.” I rush out my apology and try to take a step backward.

  “That’s okay, Charlie.” His hands remain where they are, and just when I think he’s going to let me go, he steps closer. His hands move down my arms and then wrap around my waist. It is the kind of move I’d expect from Dominic, not my future stepbrother, and I’m rooted to the spot.

  I pull back, testing the grip he has on me, but it’s strong. “Simon?”

  He looks down at me, his eyes darkening, and I feel a flush start to rise. Soon, my cheeks are burning hot, and I’m uncomfortable at his closeness. I try again to take a step backward, and this time he seems to realize that he’s still holding me because his arms fall away.

  “I wasn’t looking where I was going,” I stammer, totally thrown at the way he held me. Was it my imagination or was he being overfamiliar?

  “My fault.” He holds up his hands and gives me a long look, before he steps around me and pushes the door to the men's room. I’m left standing on my own staring at the closed door. Weird.

  Dominic looks up when I slide into my seat. “You okay?”

  “Yeah, tired. Can we go?” I ask in a quiet voice and manage a weak smile. He nods and I stand up from the table again.

  “We’re going to head out. We have a long drive ahead of us.” I walk around the table and lean down to hug my mom.

  “We’re ready to leave too. Drive carefully.” She stands and hugs Dominic while I say good-bye to Lincoln. “Look after my baby girl,” I hear her say to Dominic.

  “Always.” He says and my heart warms at his reassurance.

  Simon appears as we’re leaving, and we wave out of politeness but don’t stop as we hurry out of the restaurant.

  • • •

  Dominic is quiet as we start the long drive home until I turn to him to watch him driving. One hand rests at the top of the steering wheel while the other sits on the shift, eyes focused on the road ahead, he’s still too distracting for his own good.

  “What did you do while we were dress shopping?”

  He glances at me and smiles before returning his eyes to the road. “Had a look around a music shop. I was thinking of buying you a guitar and teaching you how to play.” I laugh because I have no ear for music whatsoever. I would sound horrible but I don’t want to shatter his fantasy.

  “Why didn’t you?”

  He shrugs but the muscle in his jaw tightens a fraction. “I ran into Simon outside the shop.”

  Just the mention of my soon-to-be stepbrother sends a chill through me that I can’t explain and I check the air, making sure it’s not too cold.

  “I was on my way to get coffee for us when I bumped into him and another guy.”

  “Who?” I can’t even remember Simon, so I doubt I’ll remember any of his friends.

  “Jason Collins.” I groan inwardly and resist the urge to drop my head in my hands. A feeling of dread starts in the pit of my stomach. I remember him from school. He was on the football team, and although I never slept with him, I always thought he was behind many of the rumors about me. He propositioned me at one party, but I turned him down.

  “What did he have to say?” But as soon as I’ve asked the question I regret it. I don’t want to know.

  “Simon introduced us and when he explained I was your boyfriend, Jason got this smug look on his face and his eyes lit up. Said he remembered you very well and -.”

  “Don’t.” I cut him off. “I don’t want to hear it,” I whisper, a tremor in my voice, because I can imagine what he had to say.

  “Yeah, well, Simon stopped him before I got the whole story. Who does he think he is? I’m your fucking boyfriend.” He clenches his jaw, and his grip on the steering wheel tightens.

  “I…I’m sorry.” Here I am, apologizing for my past again.

  Because Dominic is so angry, I don’t tell him about what happened with Simon. It’s all a bit hazy; maybe I’m reading too much into it and imagined the whole thing. He stepped in to shut Jason up, so it probably was an accident. The rest of the ride home is silent. He’s stewing over Jason’s comments, and nothing I have to say will make him feel better. All I can do is give him time to work through it. I’d rather he shout at me and get it out in the open because I can’t handle quiet,pissed off Dominic.

  Reaching out, I take his hand but feel him tense at my touch, which is so not like him. He has always had a thing about holding my hand, ever since I met him. After a few long seconds, where I worry he’s going to pull away from me, his body relaxes and the end of his fingers tighten around mine. When I squeeze them he responds and shoots me a sideways glance and smiles, but it’s not his sexy, panty-dropping smile; it’s forced and doesn’t reach his eyes. They remain flat, without their usual wicked glint. When he faces the front again with a tightly clenched jaw,.my stomach plummets somewhere in the region of my feet. Oh, fuck. Now I’m worried about what they said to him, but this isn’t the best time to go over it.

  It is dark when we arrive back at the apartment. I’ve slept the last hour of the journey. Dominic shakes me gently and helps me out of the truck and up the stairs to the apartment. I head straight for the bedroom and get undressed in the darkness, climbing into bed in just my tank top and panties. Dominic locks up and turns out the lights before I hear him coming into the bedroom. He sheds his clothes, folding them neatly, unlike mine, which are lying in a heap on the floor somewhere.

  He slips under the covers and half-heartedly rests an arm loosely on my waist. Not his usual tight grip. Normally, he pulls me close to him. But I can’t feel him behind me, I can’t feel the heat radiating from his body. I wriggle backward, getting closer to him but still his arm just lies there.

  “I love you, Dominic.” I place my hand on his arm and press it to me, almost forcing him to cuddle me. At last, his grip tightens on me, and he tucks me close to him, so his body curves around mine.

  He heaves a soft sigh and presses a kiss to the back of my head. “I love you, too.”

  Chapter Ten

  Throwing my pen down on the desk, I blow out an exhausted breath. At last, I’ve finished my mammoth essay for my European Art History class. Because we were away at my mom's, I didn’t get a chance to work on it until Sunday. Now, two days later, I’m finally finished. Dominic’s mood hasn’t improved any since we got back from my mom’s. When we woke the next morning, he acted as if everything was okay, but over breakfast, I caught him looking at me, the expression on his face unreadable. The tightness of his jaw told me he was still thinking about whatever Jason had said to him. He’s brooding and I’m burying my head in the sand, thinking that if I ignore it, it will all go away. I keep thinking that he just needs time and we’ll get back to normal.

  After a quick glance at the clock, I reach for my cell to call Iris. It’s still early; maybe she wants to come out to play.

  “Whatcha doin’?” I ask cheerfully when she answers on the first ring, “You want to grab something to eat?”

  “Sure.”

  “I’ll pick you up in five.” I hang up bef
ore she has a chance to say anything else.

  Iris and Bryan don’t live far and I grab my keys and money, not forgetting my cell, and dart out the door. Iris is sitting on the steps in front of their building when I pull up. My eyebrows raise in surprise when I see she is ready and waiting. The watch Bryan bought her for Christmas was worth it.

  “Hey.” She slides into the passenger seat, and I take off at my usual breakneck speed.

  “Where to?” I cast her a quick sidelong glance.

  “Drive-thru.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yeah, I need some junk food. This revision is killing me. I’m so glad you called. I need a break.”

  “Where’s Bryan?” I ask.

  “Working. Where’s your boy?”

  “Practice. They have a gig next weekend.”

  “You going?”

  “Of course. Although I’m on the late shift at work, so I’ll just see you there.”

  “How’s your mom?” She asks, changing the subject.

  I give a small groan. “A total bridezilla.”

  “Don’t be too hard on her. She’s just excited.” Iris scolds, she loves hearing about my moms wedding plans. In fact I’m sure she knows more about what’s going on than I do.

  “Yeah, I know. We chose the bridesmaids’ dresses.”

  As predicted, her eyes light up and she clasps her hands together. “Ooh, exciting. Are they nice?”

  “Yeah, they are actually, and I’m glad we did it together.” I admit as Iris beams at me.

  There is a line of cars outside the drive-thru, so we wait our turn to place our order. Then I park so we can eat in silence, scarfing down fries like they’re going out of fashion.

  “You know you’re getting an invite right?” I ask with a mouthful of burger.

  “Seriously? I’m getting an invite to your mom’s wedding?” Her voice climbs an octave with excitement, and I can’t fight the smile that tugs at the corners of my mouth, making me almost choke on my burger.

  “Yeah, I thought you knew that.” I talk round my food.

  “No. I kinda hoped I would but…”

  “Iris, she thinks of you as a second daughter. One I sometimes think she would rather have than me,” I grumble.

  “Charlie-” She swivels in her seat to face me, a deep crease in her forehead. “What makes you say that?”

  Why do I say these things in the first place? I shrug, feeling awkward and wish I’d kept my mouth shut.

  “Seeing her over the weekend was good, and I enjoyed the dress shopping, if that’s possible. Lately, I’ve felt a bit excluded because she always talks about Lincoln’s daughter and the wedding things they are doing.”

  Iris considers this; I can practically hear the wheels turning in that pretty head of hers.

  “I know I’m miles away, but when I was growing up, she treated me more like a friend than a daughter, and now it feels like I don’t have that.” I pick at my food, anything to avoid Iris’s scrutiny.

  “She knows you’re busy with college stuff and can’t be driving up there every weekend or every time she needs help with something. Apart from the fact you’re not particularly interested in weddings, it helps her and his daughter bond. It can’t be easy for your mom trying to fit in.” She leans over and hugs me at an awkward angle.

  Iris is right, as always. “Yeah, you’re right. At least I got to do this with her.”

  • • •

  When I drop Iris off, I wait until Bryan comes to the door then watch as she runs up the steps to him, and he envelops her in a big hug. It makes my heart swell with happiness for her. How different she is from when she came here. Iris had always been friendly and excitable, but there was a sadness to her—at the way her parents treated her and were so strict—but I don’t see any sign of it now. She certainly rebelled against them when she moved in with Bryan. The drive home is slower; I can’t believe my first year is almost over. Once the wedding is out the way, I have the whole summer to spend with Dominic.

  As soon as I step into the apartment, I know that Dominic isn’t home. I feel the emptiness right away. Everything is as I left it and I can’t hear the sound of the tv coming from the bedroom. He should be home soon. After I tidy up all my books and papers from the breakfast bar, I get into bed with my iPad to read. But my eyes grow heavy, and I fall asleep.

  Something wakes me two hours later; I sit up with a start and reach for my phone, thinking that’s what’s woken me. The time on the clock reads 1am. The space next to me is cold and empty, and there is no sound from the living room. Dominic isn’t back yet. Where is he? Maybe he’s called to tell me where the hell he is. But when I fumble with my cell, I see that he hasn’t. I throw it back onto the bed beside me in disgust and roll over. Convinced he’ll be back soon, I will myself to fall back asleep. The next time I wake, it’s 3am and still no sign of Dominic. The initial worry I felt earlier is slowly turning to anger. Where the fuck is he? He could have at least sent me a text to say he wasn’t coming home. I reach for my cell to check my messages, but there’s nothing. There is no way in hell I’m calling him. I refuse to be the needy, clingy girlfriend who checks up on him. But I will text him.

  Where the fuck are you?

  After that, I’m not sure I even fall asleep. If I do, I’m woken every hour on the hour by the anger coursing through my whole body, twisting my stomach into knots of frustration until I want to scream. When the clock reads 6am and he’s still not back, I give up on sleep and haul myself out of bed. A shower and breakfast help me feel slightly more human, but my eyes sting from lack of sleep and the anger bubbling inside still hasn’t waned. How dare he treat me like this? Like I’m one of his dispensable groupies.

  Now I can’t decide whether I want to see him yet or if I’ll be any less angry at the end of the day. Either way, I’ll spend the whole day thinking about him and why the hell he didn’t come home last night and get angry all over again. But the decision is taken out of my hands when he stumbles through the front door just as I’m packing my bag and slipping my keys into my back pocket. My head jerks up at the sound of the door closing. Resting against the closed door, he watches me for a second, trying to gauge my reaction. Keeping his head dipped, he pushes off the door and crosses the room.

  It is a fight to keep my face neutral and not show my displeasure. The truth is I haven’t decided how I feel or what to say to him. All I know is I’m angry, but I’m not sure what for. Not coming home? Not calling or at myself for still being here. His blatant lack of consideration for me?

  “Hey,” he mumbles and takes a couple of steps closer.

  “Hey, yourself.” I pick up my bag and throw it over my shoulder. I’m barely able to look him in the eye, I’m so angry.

  “Charlie, I…” He runs a hand through his hair, and he looks like crap. The clothes he had on yesterday are all crumpled. He looks a little pale and there are dark circles under his eyes. Even from here, I can smell the reek of stale alcohol.

  “What Dominic?” I sigh with impatience. “I have to get to class.” I have time to spare, but I hate being late, unlike some people who I love dearly.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t come home.”

  “Or reply to my text,” I add, crossing my arms over my chest.

  “Or that.”

  “Whatever. I’ve got to go.” I experience a jolt of anger shoot through me as I brush past him.

  “Charlie.” He reaches out for me and the hand that wraps around my wrist is gentle. The silent plea in his voice throws me for a brief second, but my spine straightens and I pull away from his touch. Don’t look back.

  All day, my concentration is shot and it’s impossible to focus on the notes I’m mindlessly copying down. I lay low and avoid the union at lunchtime, not wanting to run the risk of seeing Dominic. I’m not ready. I need more time to get my head clear before I see him again.

  Just as I’m going to my afternoon class, my phone buzzes with a text from Dominic.

  Miss you
.

  All day I had lain low, not sure whether or not he would bother to go to classes. I had avoided the Union because I didn’t want to risk running into him. Lunch was spent in a study room at the library with my headphones on, trying to drown out the incessant buzzing in my head. Without replying, I pocket my phone and head into class. I’m still too angry, and worked out what to say to him. Knowing me, I’ll say something I regret so, for once, I say nothing.

  Classes for the day finish mid-afternoon and after chatting with some classmates in a bid to waste more time, I have no option but to go home. I’ve put it off long enough. Plus, I’m tired after having a night of broken sleep.

  At the sound of me closing the front door, Dominic turns around on the sofa when I let myself into the apartment setting the guitar down on the coffee table.

  “Charlie.” It comes out in a rush, relief evident in his voice. The lines on his face relax, and he’s off the sofa, striding toward me.

  Momentarily distracted, my eyes dip to the muscle t-shirt that clings to his chest and pale gray sweatpants down to his bare feet. Sweeping my gaze upward, I see the shadows under his eyes. He looks tired, and his hair is all tousled. He reaches for me, strong arms gather me into his body, and he presses his lips to the top of my head. My body tenses as I resist against his hold. Half-heartedly, I wrap my arms around his waist and clasp my hands loosely behind him. At my touch, his body slumps.

  “I’m sorry,” he mumbles into my hair, a deep sigh leaving his body.

  “Where were you?” I ask, my voice muffled against his chest hating that my curiosity has gotten the better of me.

  “We were at practice, then, I… we all went back to the house, got drunk, and I passed out on the sofa.”

  “Hmm.” I nod as if I understand but I don’t. I really fucking don’t. This is out of character for him, and I get the distinct feeling that he’s not telling me something, but because I’m a stubborn bitch, I don’t ask.

  “Sorry I didn’t call or text.”