The first light of dawn made the sky lavender through the white sheers of Domâs suite. I lay awake, the sheets wrapped around me like the thoughts spinning through my mind. Iâd woken up early, unable to rest once the thought struck me.
Domâs companyâs name was familiar, and I couldnât think of why.
The steady rise and fall of his chest beside me was a rhythmic contrast to the erratic beat of my heart. Last night, I felt a connection that transcended the casual nature of our encounter. But it was hard to believe it was anything more than amazing sex.
My body said something else. My head, however, was unconvinced. Morbinski. His last name? But he said he had business partnersâ¦
I couldnât take it anymore. I had to know.
Carefully, I slid from under his arm, feeling the cool air replace the warmth of his body. The only sounds were the distant murmur of the ocean and Domâs soft breathing, even as I tiptoed to my purse to grab my phone. Every step reminded me of our fun last night. I was, in fact, not walking straight to my phone. Once it was out, I googled the companyâs name on the hotelâs slow Wi-Fi.
When it popped up, nothing significant showed itself on the landing page. I clicked the âAbout Usâ button and scrolled through the board members to get to the founders. Robin Skiggsâa woman from Chicago, blah, blah, blah. Greg Binsonâa man from Seattle, donât care about the details.
And thenâ¦
Domâs picture.
Oh.
Fuck.
The air sucked out of the room. My pulse hammered in my ears as I read the name beneath the photo like it couldnât possibly be real.
Dominic Mortoli.
The surname hit me like a punch to the ribs.
No. No, no, no.
My stomach knotted so violently I thought I might throw up. Every muscle in my body went slack, and I nearly fumbled my phone to the floor. Only the sharp jolt of panicâdonât make a sound, donât you dareâkept my fingers clamped around it.
He was still asleep. Peaceful. Oblivious.
I stared at the glowing screen as bile rose in my throat.
Dominic Mortoli.
My exâs father.
I just fucked my exâs father.
Sweat pricked at the back of my neck as my mind scrambled, unraveling into chaos. There would be questions. God, so many questions.
Why are you leaving?
Where are you going?
And how the hell do I explain this?
I sucked in a shaky breath, whispered, âFuck.â
Dom snorted as he reached for my side of the bed.
I moved my pillow close enough that he reached it and seemed satisfied. One tiny crisis averted.
Now, to make my escape.
As I dressed, a thousand questions flew through my head like the good sense I should have been born with. But they all boiled down to one.
Why did fate pair me with this family not once, but twice?
It was cruel. Fate had never been particularly kind to me, but this? This was bad, even by my standards. Itâs like the universe was trying to tell me something by repeating itself, and Iâm still unable to hear it. Rationally, I believed in coincidence, but this was too much.
I slipped my sandals on, cautiously picked up my purse while I hoped not to make too much noise, and tiptoed toward the door. But my sandal slapped the bottom of my foot, and I froze.
Dom didnât even stir.
I stepped out of my sandals, opting for bare feet on the dark hardwood instead. The latch on the door didnât click until I closed it behind me. And then, I ran for my room on the first floor. I ignored the knowing smiles from the nosy staff as I made my way through the halls. I wanted to shout, âYes, I had sex with a stranger last night! Are you happy?â But shouting might have alerted enough people to wake Dom.
I could not be here when he woke up. I had to leave right now.
Once I got to my room, I remembered I didnât have much to pack. I changed back into the clothes I flew down in. Thankfully, summer in New York was almost just as hot as the weather in the islands, so when I went to the front desk in my shorts and tee, no one gave me a second glance.
âYes, hi, I know I am booked for another three nights, but I have a family emergency back in New York, and I have to get home as soon as possible. How do we make that happen?â
âI am sorry to hear that and happy to helpâ¦â
Thankfully, the concierge made all the arrangements for me, and before I knew it, I was on a plane back to the States. I didnât like lying to get what I needed done, but technically, it wasnât a lie.
I had a family emergency. Iâd fucked my way through two men in the same family.
Thankfully, Leo had no brothers, or Fate might have had even more fun at my expense. My head tipped back against the cushy first-class seat. How could Leo be so different from his father? For the past month, Iâd told myself he must have gotten that shitty attitude from his dad. Wasnât that how these things worked? Guys hated women in front of their sons, so their sons mimicked that. Or so I had thought.
Dom clearly had no problem with my body. In fact, he seemed very, very into me. It was a pity he had spawned the biggest jerk I ever dated.
Leo had always said that his father was a neglectful asshole surgeon. Did Dom lie about his job? I wasnât sure. Leo being Leo, maybe he was too drugged up to explain what he meant. Surgeon had to be close enough to medical device inventor for him to confuse the two, or maybe Dom had been a surgeon before he inventedâ â
You know what? It doesnât matter.
I had spent far too much time trying to dissect Leoâs family from a distance, and I decided enough was enough. The Mortolis would get no more energy from me.
Except Leo had told me Dom worked at a hospital near the restaurant I worked at. That was why he never visited me at workâhe didnât want to chance running into his dad.
Ugh. None of this lined up. As much as I didnât want to give them my time and attention, I hated it when I had more questions than answers. And Leoâs characterization of Dom did not align with anything I had learned about him last night. He wasnât inattentive or cold. He was focused and hot.
So damn hot.
Stop that.
The whole thing left me confused. The intimacy we had shared was unlike anything I had experienced. As I replayed our conversations, his words echoed in my mind, revealing a man who could have been more than a hookup. He was someone I connected with.
Truth be told, we had more of a connection in a single night than I had with Leo for two years.
His son. Heâs his son. Get your head out of your ass.
It wasnât only about me at this point. Leo had a shitty relationship with his father. If he learned about last nightâ¦I shouldnât care what heâd do with the information, but I did. As much as he had hurt me, I still didnât want him to be hurt by this. More than that, I didnât want to be a wedge between Dom and Leo. Their relationship was hanging by a thread, and I heard the pain in Domâs voice when he spoke of Leo.
I couldnât be what drove them further apart.
Leaving without a word might have been cowardly at the time, but looking back on it now, it was the only choice.
For me and for them.
But that was cold comfort on the airplane. The intimacy we had shared was something Iâd never forget. The kind of thing poets write about. And maybe I would one day. But maintaining a distance was a safeguard for my vulnerable heart.
The poet in me wondered a ponderous question. Was I protecting my heart, or was I running from the very thing I had longed for my whole life?
The truth was, it didnât matter either way. I had left Domâs room to save myself from admitting Iâd nailed my exâs father and to maintain control over my life. If I had stayed, if I had told him the truth, what horrors would that have wrought?
I couldnât date Dom, no matter how much of a connection we had. Aside from being who he was, he had eighteen years on me. He started voting the year I was born. How could we possibly have had a relationship that was more than a punchline?
Logically, I knew some people had good relationships with big age gaps. But that didnât stop others from judging them over it. Hell, Iâd judged people for that kind of thing before.
There was no possible way for us to work out. So, really, what was I worried about?
Never seeing Dom again.
Oh, shut up.
My inner voices only ever argued like this when I truly wanted something. I knew what that meant, and I knew that it didnât matter. Dominic Mortoli was off-limits, thanks to his son who had wasted two years of my life.
No. I had wasted that time with him. I could have left him at any time, but I had stayed. Since the breakup, Iâd replayed a lot of moments between us, good and bad. The more I examined us, the more I realized how much we were together out of convenience.
With his artistâs schedule of waking up whenever he wanted to wake up and having the freedom and money to do whatever whenever, I didnât have to worry about him not being available when I felt like seeing him. My schedule was the crazy one. I was the one with ambition and dedication to my job, and I couldnât work from home like he could, so my place was a convenient spot for him to escape his work whenever.
I cared for Leo. But it was never love. Neither of us had ever even tried to say the L-word to each other.
The first Christmas, I had asked about meeting his family. He told me he wasnât seeing them for the holiday, so I didnât need to worry about it. Then, last Christmas, he said they werenât inviting friends for the holiday.
Friends. Like that was all I was to him.
Dom showed more care for me in a single night than Leo ever had. As much as I hated the circumstances, I was glad Iâd met him and taken a chance. No morningâs reality could wash away the memories of the night Iâd had.
The realization that I might never see him again struck with an acute sharpness. Beneath the surface, a stubborn ember of hope glowed warmâthe hope that perhaps this wasnât the end, that perhaps fate had more in store for us than a steamy night followed by a cruel morning.
No. I knew better than that. I was Fateâs punching bag. Nothing more.
I made myself comfortable and asked for a flute of champagne as a balm for my bruised heart. The island had worked its magic. Iâd gone from wounded to merely bruised, thanks to a fleeting connection and phenomenal sex.
Maybe that was all I could ask for out of life. Some people donât even get that. I should be grateful I met Dom at all.
But the thought of never seeing him again left me cold.