The Art of Breathing (The Seafare Chronicles 3) - Page 62

“Oh, look. That cloud looks like a mongoose.”

“No, it doesn’t. Focus, Tyson.”

“Fine. Yes. He’s always been big. He’s always been hot. He’s always been fucking Dominic, and I don’t know how this day can possibly get any worse.”

Except, that’s not quite true, is it? Yes, he’s always been big, but he was awkward. Kind and sweet, but awkward. His hands and feet always seemed bigger than the rest of him. And yes, he was always attractive, but in a boyish way. The gentle giant with the broken voice. That has all been replaced by a grown man who’s impossibly large and surrounded by a palpable air of authority.

And, wonder of all wonders, my dick is starting to get hard. That… is unfortunate. And ridiculous. And fucked up. Goddamn hormones! Go the fuck away!

I wonder, it muses, how those arms would feel? The scrape of that scruff on his face against your neck? The weight of him hovering above you? Obviously, he’d have to leave on most of the uniform. And the handcuffs could still be involved.

“This can’t possibly end well,” I mutter.

“What’s that?” Kori asks.

I don’t think Kori needs to know that I’m sitting outside a restaurant contributing to the downfall of American health standards in the sun with my hands cuffed behind my back, getting an erection while having unbidden dirty thoughts about my former best friend who I, for all intents and purposes, cut off from my life because I thought I was the only one for him and found out otherwise.

If I were a country singer, that’d be my first song: “I Don’t Eat Meat Unless It Belongs to the Man of My Dreams.”

I am so pathetic.

“Today,” I say instead. “Bear is going to murder me.”

“If Otter doesn’t do it first.”

“Or Creed.”

“Or Anna.”

“Or their parents.”

“Probably even JJ.”

I sigh. “Fun.”

“Look sharp,” Kori says. “Here comes Captain Steroids.”

And so he does. I try to look away, I try to close my eyes against the sight, but I can’t. It’s been four years since I’ve seen him, and it’s like there’s been a drought all that time and it’s finally raining. I can’t look away even if I try.

His shadow hits me first, rising up my legs and over my knees, hitting my chest and face. He blocks out the sun as he stands before us, looking down, eyes hidden again behind those mirror shades. His expression is unreadable. But somehow, even though I can’t see his eyes, I know he’s looking at me.

Seconds go by, I’m sure, but it doesn’t seem to matter. I almost forget that Kori’s sitting right next to me. I almost forget that my life is most certainly over. I almost forget everything aside from the fact that I breathe, but I can’t catch my breath. I can’t catch my breath because all I can see is him, all I can feel is him, all I can breathe is him.

No, I think. I am done with this. I am over this.

Sure you are, it laughs. Because this is the normal reaction of someone over it.

“Get up,” Dominic says gruffly. “Both of you.”

Somehow, I do. I push myself up with my legs and stand before him. He towers over me, and there’s no doubt in my mind he’s looking directly at me.

I feel Kori brush against me as she stands.

“Follow me,” Dominic says, and then he turns and walks toward the parking lot, where his cruiser sits.

“Here we go,” Kori says softly.

I, for once, don’t know what to say.

Tags: T.J. Klune The Seafare Chronicles Romance
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