Page 28 of Texting the Possessive CEO
Izzy: You’re being silly. We’re strangers, after all.
Dominic: You don’t feel like a stranger. Earlier, when I pushed against you, it was like my body knew yours. Stop me if I’m being cheesy or insane.
I type, still smiling.
Izzy: You’re being cheesy AND insane. But I feel exactly the same. I’ve never felt passion like that. It was so fast, yet it felt so right.
Dominic: You know, I should end this here.
Yeah, that makes two of us…
Dominic: But I’m done pretending I’m some angel. I’m taking you on a date.
The bright, happy laughter that erupts from me sounds like it belongs to somebody else.
Izzy: Is that right, sir?
Dominic: I’ve spent so many years telling people to call me Dom, but when you call me sir, I like it, Izzy. And yeah, it’s right. I’m done tiptoeing around. Maybe it makes me a bad boss, but I need to see you outside of work.
Izzy: Need is a strong word.
Dominic: In this case, it’s an accurate one.
I bite my lip, then quickly let it go. Between the lip-biting and the chewing inside my cheek, it’s like I’m trying to physically punishmyself for my betrayal. I’m just like hisUncle, infiltrating his family, ruining it from the inside.
Izzy: I don’t think you NEED to take me on a date, Dom.
Dominic: I don’t want to come on too strong. But the moment I kissed you, I felt it. Need. The word that’s apparently made you so damn angry. Technically, then, I’ve got a very strong desire to take you on a date… Is that better, ma’am?
Izzy: MA’AM?!
Dominic: It’s clear you’re the boss now.
I shake my head, grinning ruefully. I’m building a house of cards with a stick of dynamite inside and somehow expecting it not to fall.
Izzy: I want to go on a date with you.
I text is an understatement. Maybe I don’tneedit, but this feeling is new and exciting. It reminds me of high school, when my friends were having relationship dramas and adventures, and I always felt like I was on the outside, looking in. Not anymore.
Izzy: But I don’t want to give you the wrong impression.
Dominic: How so?
It’s a good question. What am I trying to say, exactly? What I want to say is:Run from me, Dom, because I’m worse than the man who tore your family apart.
Izzy: I haven’t dated in a long time. And even when I did, I’ve never been very romantic.
Dominic: Me neither. I think it’s time we changed that.
Butterflies flutter their wings in my belly, making me feel younger than twenty-five. I’ve spent my life hopping from job to job, helping Grandma as she got older and weaker, then ill. This feels like something forme. If only this black cloud weren’t hanging over our heads…
Izzy: I think you’re right. We’ll arrange a texting date.
Dominic: Ha, ha. A texting date? That’s a new one to me, my melody. What does that entail?
Izzy: Nope. Hold on a sec. What did you just call me?
Dominic: It fits, Izzy. I haven’t had music in my life for a long time. Now, I’ve found some. I don’t want to put pressure on either of us. I’m not saying you’ll always be my music or you always have, but earlier, when we kissed, you were my melody. And now, sitting here with a big grin on my face, you’re still my melody.
