Rescue

Alexa’s POV

“You always come through,” I said softly, my voice barely cutting through the silence in the car. “Even when she doesn’t.”

Dominic didn’t answer right away. The engine ticked as it cooled, and the dark house waited ahead like it was holding its breath. I could feel his eyes on me, heavier than the weight of Ethan’s no-show.

“Someone has to look out for you,” he replied, low and even.

I unbuckled my seatbelt but didn’t move to get out. The dress felt too short now, the air between us too thick. “I’m twenty, not twelve. I should be able to handle one crappy birthday.”

“You handled it better than most would.” He shifted in his seat, turning toward me fully. “Doesn’t mean you have to do it alone.”

His hand lifted again, the same thumb that had brushed my cheek earlier now resting lightly on my knee. It was meant to be comforting. It wasn’t. Heat spread from that single point of contact, slow and dangerous, mixing with the leftover buzz from the shots.

I looked at him—really looked. The sharp jaw, the faint stubble, the way his shirt collar sat open just enough to show the line of his throat. This was Dominic. My stepfather. The man who had sat through my high school recitals and fixed my flat tires without ever making it a big deal. But tonight his gaze wasn’t fatherly. It was dark and steady, like he was seeing me for the first time without the filter of family.

“You’re staring,” I whispered.

“So are you.”

My breath caught. I should have laughed it off, opened the door, gone inside and drowned the night in ice cream and regret. Instead I stayed put, the leather seat creaking as I leaned a fraction closer.

“Ethan’s an idiot,” he said quietly. “Any man who leaves you waiting deserves to lose you.”

The words landed warm in my chest. I swallowed. “You don’t have to say that just to make me feel better.”

“I’m not.” His thumb traced a small circle on my knee, innocent enough on the surface but nothing about it felt innocent. “I mean it.”

The car felt smaller, the night quieter. I could smell his cologne again—clean, expensive, wrapping around me like a secret. My pulse hammered in my ears. This was wrong. This was the kind of wrong that could burn everything down. But with Ethan’s silence still stinging and Dominic right here, solid and sure, the wrongness only made the pull stronger.

“I should go inside,” I said, but I didn’t move.

“You could.” His voice dropped even lower. “Or you could let me make sure you’re really okay.”

I met his eyes. The streetlight barely reached us, turning his face into shadows and sharp angles. “How?”

He didn’t answer with words. Instead he leaned across the console, slow enough that I could have pulled away. I didn’t. His fingers slid from my knee to my jaw, tilting my face up. His breath brushed my lips.

“Tell me you want me to stop,” he murmured.

I couldn’t. The word wouldn’t come. Instead my hand found his shirt, gripping the fabric like an anchor.

His mouth met mine—soft at first, testing, then deeper when I didn’t push him away. Heat exploded through me, chasing away every thought of Ethan, every reminder that this man had been married to my mother for five years. It was just his lips, his hand cupping my face, the low sound he made when I kissed him back.

When we broke apart, my chest rose and fell too fast. Guilt crashed in immediately, but so did something sharper—want.

“Dominic…” I started, voice shaky.

He rested his forehead against mine, breathing hard. “Inside. Now. Before I forget every reason I shouldn’t do that again.”

I nodded, but my body didn’t want to obey. We got out of the car together. The night air cooled my flushed skin as we walked up the steps. He unlocked the door and held it open. The house was dark and empty, exactly as we’d left it. Mom’s absence felt louder than ever.

I stepped inside first. He followed, closing the door behind us with a soft click that sounded final.

The hallway light clicked on when he flipped the switch. I turned to face him, heart still racing.

“What are we doing?” I asked.

Dominic’s eyes never left mine. He took one step closer, then another, until the space between us disappeared.

“Whatever you want,” he said. “But only if you tell me to stop.”

I opened my mouth, but no words came out.