Mr. Untouchable is Actually a Simp

Every time we finish in bed, my husband rolls over and drops like he's been unplugged. Out cold. Dead to the world. Every single time. All this time, I read it as a verdict.

He's cold. He's finished with me. He married me out of obligation and he does not love me. Then tonight, lying in the dark, staring at the back of his head, I heard him.

Not his voice. His thoughts. [ She barely made a sound just now. Oh god. Was I that bad?

Has she finally gotten sick of me? ] [ If I got up and went again, right now, could I still save this? Could I save us? ] [ She's so warm. So soft.

I want to drag her into my arms and whisper filth in her ear until sunrise... ] [ No. Hold the line, soldier. I'm the cold, untouchable man she fell for.

I have to hold. ] I looked at him. This man. Eyes clamped shut. Breathing slow and even. Fakeasleep for his entire life. Screaming. Well. This changes everything.

Chapter 1 By moonlight I studied the man beside me. Eyes shut. Breathing even. For one merciful second I let myself believe I'd imagined the whole thing.

The voice in my head kept right on going. [ She's still staring at me. How is a man supposed to sleep like this? My heart is slamming. ] [ My soft, warm, sweetsmelling wife.

I want to hold her and murmur into her hair until dawn. ] [ But no. She likes the cold, untouchable type. Women can't stand a sappy, overeager man. ] [ I won't let her down.

For her, I can become someone else. I can change. ] Me? Not one coherent thought to my name. There was no arguing with it. I really was hearing Dominic's thoughts.

The gap was almost too wide to fit in one skull. Was this even the same man? Because the Dominic I knew was glacial. A man who rationed his words like they cost him money.

And hearing it pour out of him like that? So much for the strong and silent type. I still wasn't sure. So I tested it. "Dominic?" "Sleep.

You've got work tomorrow." He didn't even open his eyes. He rolled over, leaving me the view of one broadshouldered, narrowhipped, icecold back, and went right on sleeping.

Any other night, I'd have called that pure indifference. Tonight I caught the thing underneath the flatness. Restraint.

Because the second his back was to me, the broadcast cranked up. [ God, her voice.

So sweet, so soft it could bring a man to his knees. ] [ Every time I hear it I want to launch a full assault, sweet nothings in her ear, over and over, until she's dizzy with it. ] [ But no.

That's a suicide mission. Sappy, overeager men go straight onto her donotdate list. ] [ My one rule in life: stay off that list. Keep her in love with me.

Be a happy man. ] I didn't know I had a donotdate list. Where in God's name did he get that idea? Chapter 2 The next morning, Dominic did exactly what he always did.

Bolted his breakfast, claimed the sofa, and put on the morning markets, Bloomberg muttering numbers at the room. Long legs crossed. Suit pressed within an inch of its life.

Cool, expensive, untouchable. The kind of man entire boardrooms go quiet for. His eyes flicked up. Down. Up to his watch. He was waiting for me.

We got married after one drunk, reckless night. He married me to do the honorable thing. I married him because I was stupid in love with him.

So after the wedding, trying to build something real, I made a rule. Every morning, before work, he waits for me to knot his tie and walk him to the door.

It felt like the kind of thing married people did. He agreed. And every morning he wolfed down his food, took the sofa, checked his watch, glanced at me, checked his watch again.

Anyone alive would've read it as a man itching to leave. A man tapping his foot at his slow wife. Today I heard the truth. [ Oh my god.

The way she eats all sleepy and soft, hair a mess, she gets cuter by the day. New record.

Every morning sets a new record. ] [ I finish early just to sit here and watch her without her noticing. Best part of my entire day. ] [ She usually takes twenty minutes.

Ten more and she'll come do my tie. ] [ Will today come with a goodbye kiss? The anticipation.

The sheer suspense of it. ] He lifted his wrist and checked again. [ Eight more minutes. ] [ Five. ] [ ... ] My fried dough stick dropped straight into my soy milk.

Whatever sleep was left in my skull burned off on the spot. So. This man. Sitting here day after day with his tablet and his market report, not reading a single word of it.

The watch checks were a countdown, all right. Not because I chewed too slow. Because he was counting down to tie duty and a cuddle.

All this time I'd thought I was the idiot pressing a warm face to a cold shoulder, working up the nerve every single morning just to get near him.

And now, with every last thought of his laid bare, a slow flame crawled up the back of my neck. Who taught this man to treat his wife like this?

He spoke to me maybe five times a day. There's "not wanting to seem needy," and then there's this whole Arctic routine. He had a thousand words in him and swallowed every last one.

Here's what nobody knew. I wasn't getting much out of this marriage. Not the warm part. Not the seen part.

More than once I'd come this close to dragging him down to the courthouse to sign the papers. I finished eating. Tidied up. Crossed the living room. Dominic hadn't moved an inch.

Legs crossed, face serene, the very picture of a man who couldn't care less. Except I could hear him. Inside, he was quietly losing his mind, waiting for me to close the distance.

Funny thing about a man who hides everything. The second you can read his hand, you're the one holding every card. Chapter 3 I paused for half a second.

Then I pretended I hadn't heard a thing and headed for the door. For one flicker, Dominic looked genuinely rattled. He smoothed it over fast. [ She forgot to do my tie. She forgot.

A thing this important, and she just forgot. ] [ No. I need her to do my tie. Do I remind her? Can I remind her? ] [ Would that make me clingy?

A grown man who can't knot his own tie. Pathetic. ] [ But I cannot face the day without it. I cannot. ] [ I can already picture it.

No tie from her, and I'm a tragic, broken shell of a man by lunch. ] He held out as long as he could.

Then, right as I reached the threshold, he cracked. "Wait." I stopped, calm as you please, and turned around. "Did you need something?

I'm running late." "Haven't you forgotten something?" "Have I?" I gave him a blank little smile. "Doesn't ring a bell." The serene mask fractured for half a beat.

He produced the tie and held it out to me. "Your rule. Forgotten already?" "Oh.

That." I let it hang a moment. "Let's scrap it." "Honestly, making you go through the motions every morning has to be exhausting. No need to keep forcing it.

You can knot your own tie. No more wasting your time waiting on me. Saves us both the trouble." He pressed his lips together.

Those deep, oceandark eyes fixed on me, flat and untroubled. To anyone watching, the man could not have cared less whether the rule lived or died.

If I hadn't been able to hear him screaming. [ It's no trouble. It is no trouble at all. None. ] [ We had a deal. You don't just change a deal. I refuse.

I won't accept this. ] [ But she always has her reasons. If she doesn't want to do my tie anymore, has the novelty worn off? Is she done with me? ] [ Then I have to behave.

No tantrums. She'll hate me if I throw a tantrum. ] [ Rule one of being a good husband: obey the wife. She says scrap it. I don't get to fight it. ] "Suit yourself." Short. Cold.

The same two words as always. Except this time I could taste it. Every syllable hauled out through gritted teeth, against his will.

I nodded, said goodbye, and walked. [ And she's gone. Not even a goodbye kiss today. ] [ There goes my whole day. Turn around, wife.

Just turn around, and you'd see a man falling to pieces. ] Chapter 4 Behind me, Dominic was still reaching after my retreating back like the tragic hero of some soap opera, silently coming apart.

I picked up the pace. Didn't look back. No going soft. He'd spent the whole marriage handing me a cold back and a closed face while I pretended none of it stung.

Let him wonder for once. That night, we shared the same bed. He sat on his side with his laptop, working. I sat on mine with a book.

Each of us minding our own business, the perfect portrait of domestic peace. I couldn't read a single line. His voice would not stop. [ The best part of the day. Bedtime.

The one hour I get to curl up with my soft, warm wife. ] [ I'm ready. Locked and loaded.

One word from her and I drop everything and let her do as she likes with me. ] [ Let me sneak a look. How far is she in that book?

One more chapter and maybe she'll be ready for bed. ] That wasn't enough for him.

Somewhere in there, the man started to sing. [ Wife, oh wife, I love you true, cross my heart, I'm stuck like glue, look my way, it's overdue, let's go to sleep, just me and you. ] My eye twitched.

I snapped the book shut and looked at him. Dominic glanced over, perfectly blank. Wow. Genuinely awardworthy acting. So this was the arrangement.

Day after day, him lying in wait for me to pounce. And here I'd spent the whole marriage sure I was the one dragging him into it.

That every night he was just humoring me, enduring it, giving in beneath me out of some grim biological duty, no feeling involved.

When in fact he was over there counting down the minutes. And never once said a word. Great. Just great.

I took a slow breath and smiled. "Bedtime." I met that hopeful little look headon. Then I turned, very deliberately, to his laptop. "You're not finished, though, are you?

Stay up as late as you need. Night." And I lay down, pulled up the blanket, shut my eyes. One clean motion. It took Dominic a long beat to catch up. The silence stretched.

Finally, one word. "Night." I kept my eyes shut. Right on cue, the broadcast cut back in. [ Wife. You didn't hold me. How are you even able to fall asleep? ] [ First no tie.

Then no goodbye kiss. Now no us tonight either. Are you truly, finally sick of me? ] [ She doesn't love me anymore. What do I do. What do I do.

I cannot survive this life without her. I am actually about to cry. ] I opened my eyes at exactly the right moment and caught his, rimmed faintly red.

He couldn't look away fast enough. His whole face seized. And the truth was, I wasn't used to these nights either.

Left to myself, barring the rare exception, he and I had never once let a night pass us by. So I handed him the opening.

One clean shot at the truth. "What's wrong?" Chapter 5 Dominic looked at me, eyes red, something raw fighting its way up just under the surface. I held his gaze, warm and expectant.

Waiting for him to speak. Waiting, just once, for him to make the first move. His throat worked. He closed the laptop, lowered his eyes, and let his gaze settle on my face.

Hot enough to leave a mark. The air went close and warm. Something in the quiet began to hum. This far in, and a face like that still got me. Heat in my cheeks, pulse in my throat.

I'll own it. I'm shameless for that face. I dropped my eyes, a little shy, and waited for his next move. At last, gloriously, he set the laptop aside.

Nerves fluttered up out of nowhere. I looked up through my lashes and found his eyes again. And watched him lift a hand and clap it over his own. "It's nothing.

Got something in my eye." [ She can't know I want to cry. The cold, untouchable god turns into a crybaby and there goes all my mystique. ] [ I'm a genius.

A bug in the eye, brilliant. Now she'll come blow on it for me. Cuddle unlocked. ] I said nothing. The sheer maneuvering left me speechless.

My whole soft little moment, reduced to a punchline. This man. Dream on. We were this far in and he was still angling for me to be the one to close the gap. Absolutely not.

I have principles. I crushed the urge flat and turned my back on him, all the way. "Rub it yourself. You're tired. You're sleepy.

Goodnight." The next morning Dominic looked wrecked. Real raccoon eyes, dark and bruised. He hadn't slept.

He'd spent the whole night howling inside his own skull, and I know because I'd lain there and caught every minute of it. What was I supposed to do.

He gave me a splitting headache and I didn't shush him once. He's my husband. If I don't spoil the man, who will. He cleared his breakfast in a few bites and bolted for the sofa.

Thumbs flying across his phone, brow knotted tight. I figured a deal was on fire somewhere. Then I heard it. [ Coach. Mayday.

I need you. ] [ I ran your playbook and nailed the cold, untouchable thing.

My wife really does love me. ] [ But lately she's gone cold on me, and last night, you will not believe the catastrophe. ] [ She didn't want to cuddle. She's done with me.

She doesn't love me anymore. Coach, save me. ] [ What do I do? Unlock some new dimension of charm?

Buy the number one item in your storefront, "Masculine Charm Is All in the Details"? ] [ Just follow the book and I'm set? Fine.

I'll study up today and fieldtest it tonight. ] [ Thank you. I'm dropping a hundred bucks in tips on your stream tonight. You have my word. ] I said nothing. So.

The glacial mystique. The untouchable heartthrob I'd married. All of it. Coached. Off the internet. By someone he called Coach. Chapter 6 So. Noted.

The whole act, downloaded off the internet. Dominic. Captain of industry. Apex predator of the boardroom.

A man who closed ninefigure deals before lunch and apparently could not work out how to court his own wife without hiring a love guru online. Look, initiative is admirable.

A for effort. The execution, though? He was going to get himself killed out there. Coaching received, mood restored, Dominic strolled off to the bathroom. He left his phone behind.

I drifted over. I genuinely had to know which twobit crackpot had managed to con a man as sharp as Dominic. The lock screen stopped me cold. I set the phone back down. He came out.

I wasn't done. "Dominic. Let me borrow your phone." "Hm?" A flicker of confusion, but his hand was already pressing the phone into my palm. No hesitation at all.

I swiped up. "What's the passcode?" That was when it seemed to land. The screaming started. [ What does she want with my phone? Is she checking up on me? ] [ I knew it.

I knew she still cared. ] [ Wait. Has she been cold because she suspects me? ] [ Oh god. I'm the worst. I made my wife feel unsafe. ] [ Search whatever you want, wife.

I have nothing to hide. I swear it. ] I let that sit. Relax, hotshot. I know you've got nothing to hide. I spent all of last night listening to you sob about how much you love me.

To kill the spiral before it spun somewhere truly stupid, I finished the thought out loud. "Can't remember where I left my phone.

Want to call it from yours." The relief hit him, and then, hard on its heels, despair. [ Oh. So she wasn't suspicious after all. Then she really is just sick of me.

That stings. ] [ It's my fault. I dropped my guard. I let the line go quiet. ] [ But it's fine. I've got the Coach's playbook. I'll study hard.

I'll win her back. ] I almost laughed. Hang tight. I'm about to meet this brilliant Coach of yours, and then I'll be getting some consulting of my own.

I kept my eyes on the screen and prompted him. "Passcode?" No answer out loud. Just a fresh hurricane tearing through his head. [ Heaven above.

You want me dead, don't you. ] [ My passcode is iloveyouwifey4ever. My traitor hands. My loverotted brain.

Why, in the moment, did I not stop myself from setting something this disgustingly sappy? ] [ If I say it out loud, she sees exactly what I am. A greasy, lovesick fool.

She takes back every last ounce of love. ] [ If I don't say it, she thinks I'm hiding something. Guarding the phone against her.

It breaks her heart. ] [ Every road ends in the same rout. I lose ground with her either way. ] [ What do I do. What do I do. What do I DO. ] Chapter 7 What was I supposed to do?

For a passcode that sweet? I'd help the man out. What can I say. I'm a softhearted little god. I lifted my eyes to his and played dumb about the panic swimming in them.

Then I tapped the screen awake and turned it to face him. "Face ID works too." Unlocked. I angled away and pretended to dial a number.

What I actually did was kill the volume, open TikTok, and pull up his DMs.

My eyes went straight to the last line in the thread, a cheerful "thanks, Coach," sitting under one username. @CodyTGaming. My smile froze on my face. I tapped into the profile.

Most of the posts were gaming clips. Esports. Tournament reactions. Location: same city as me. Same name. Same content. Same city. Three for three.

This was my little brother's account. Cody's. No question about it. Our parents had spent years trying to drag Cody home to help me run the family company.

They hated the streaming thing. I was the only person in the entire family in his corner.

He refused to set foot in the office, so they cut off most of his money, and every so often he'd hit me up to buy a little traffic for his channel.

Which is the entire reason I'm the only living soul who knows this account exists. I had never told Dominic about it. Not once.

Quietly metabolizing all of this, I kept my face flat and dialed my own number. Pure theater. Dominic waited, patient.

I watched him do his cool, unbothered, masteroftheuniverse thing. I had no words. I just wanted to lie down on the floor. Hiring an online love guru, fine.

Hiring one who does esports for a living, sure, why not. But of all the streamers on the internet, he'd gone and hired my brother. Dominic. Could you possibly be more ridiculous?

What other little surprises are you sitting on that I don't know about? And then there was Cody.

The idea that my brother could counsel a houseplant on romance was so absurd I'd sooner eat my own shoe in the middle of Times Square. A shutin.

A man who has never once had a girlfriend in his life. And this was the genius who'd been quietly remodeling my husband. Oh, I was getting to the bottom of this.

Chapter 8 The second I'd seen Dominic off to work, I called Cody. "Cody. When exactly did you change careers?" "Huh? Change what?

Sis, what are you even talking about?" Genuine confusion crackled down the line. "Word is you've been moonlighting as a love coach. Funny.

I could've sworn you told me you were an esports streamer. Care to walk me through that one?" "Oh, that." Relief. "That's just for the show.

Content." "People want novelty these days. You can't run one lane forever as a streamer.

You wanna make it, you gotta keep it fresh." "If I just played games all day my guys would get bored, so every now and then I run a relationshipadvice stream.

Little bit of contrast. Keeps it spicy." "And honestly? Goes over great. My chat eats it up.

Treats it like the entertainment segment between matches." "Anyway, sis, since when do you even use TikTok? Why the sudden interest?" I smiled, cold. "A friend of mine.

Found himself some twobit guru online, sorry, love coach, for relationship advice. And I happened to notice the great expert was you." "Huh?

Who?" I pictured Dominic's account name and found it genuinely hard to get out. "The handle is WifeIsTheSweetest." "Oh, Mr. Sweet!

No way, he's a friend of yours?" Cody cracked up, downright gleeful. "You know, he's actually the whale you reeled in for me, back when you bought my traffic.

My one and only relationship client to this day." "Caught my stream, decided I had a real gift for teaching guys how to chase girls. You have no idea.

Every single session, he drops a hundred bucks in tips on me. Man basically bankrolled my independence from Mom and Dad overnight." "Which, now that I think about it, I owe to you.

If you hadn't gone all in on my dream and bought me that traffic, Mr. Sweet never would've stumbled into my stream, and I'd never have met the guy." I said nothing. So.

At the end of the day, I was the matchmaker who'd tied their little online union together with a bow. What had I done to deserve this. "Cody.

You're a virgin shutin who has never dated a soul in his life. Where do you get the nerve to coach anybody?" "Hey now, that's not fair.

My romantic experience may be a little limited, but—" "Stop. Not limited. Zero." Chapter 9 He paused. "Okay, so I've got no romantic experience of my own.

But my friends do, and you don't have to fly the plane to know what a crash looks like. Plus I study. Hard." "To do right by Mr.

Sweet's hundred bucks, I actually wrote and selfpublished a whole relationship manual. For credibility. Very professional." "Sis. Do you have any idea how hard I work?

How dedicated I am?" That part, I could speak to. I ground two words out through my teeth. "I know." "How could you not? My magnum opus is sitting right there in my storefront.

What's it called again. Masculine Charm Is All in the Details." "That's the one! You read it? Be honest, is it any good?

You know, a ton of the material in there came straight from picking your brain." I went still. Hold on. That did ring a faint, ugly little bell.

A while back, out of absolutely nowhere, Cody had asked me what women actually want in a man. What makes a guy attractive. And I'd been so delighted. The shutin, finally blooming.

Finally a girl he wanted to impress, finally a reason to ask. So I told him. Generously. In detail. Every single thing I personally find attractive in a man.

And he, what, wrote it into the book?

So after the full scenic detour, my own brother had taken the intel I handed him, bound it up, and used it to teach my husband how to seduce me.

I have never, in my whole life, been so completely without words. "Heh. We'll see how well it works tonight." Cody: "???" Midway through the workday, my phone rang. Dominic.

Calling me, which almost never happened. Brief as ever. "A friend opened a restaurant. I'll come get you after work. We'll try it." It took me a second to surface. I said okay.

I was looking at the ebook Cody had just forwarded me. The content was, how do I put this. Rough. Pure playbook. Move after move after move. And yet.

If Dominic were the one running these moves on me. Not gonna lie. I'm into it.

The picture was already forming, this man, holding his cold composure with one hand and fanning himself wide open like a peacock with the other, performing my own playbook right back at me.

God help me, I could not wait. Chapter 10 Then the phone rang again. This deal mattered.

It was tied to the entire future of the company, so when the partners asked to move the dinner up to tonight, I only had one answer. Yes.

The line went dead, and I called Dominic back. "Dominic. I'm sorry. Something came up tonight, I can't make dinner. You don't need to come get me." A beat of silence.

Then that clean, cool voice. "What time does it wrap?" "Hard to say. Nine, if it goes well." "Fine.

I'll come get you then." "No need," I said, on reflex. "I drove myself." "You'll have been drinking. You're going to drive?" He runs a company too.

He knows perfectly well there's no closing a deal over dinner without a glass in your hand. "That's what the driver's for." I keep a driver.

Anything with alcohol, he handles the pickup. Dominic went quiet a moment. "Something came up on my end too. I'll be at the office until nine.

I'll swing by on the way." It was the first time I'd ever seen him dig in like that. He'd offered to pick me up before, sure.

But he had his own functions, his own packed calendar, and I had a driver and didn't want to be a bother, so I'd wave him off, and every time he'd let it go.

This was the first time he wouldn't back down after I'd already said no. Something was off. A thought surfaced, and my mouth curved before I could stop it. "Sure. Come by, then.

I'll wait." The dinner went well. Deal closed, plates cleared, and it wasn't even nine yet. I'd had to drink hard to land it.

The second the partners were out the door, the alcohol caught up with me and the floor went soft under my heels. A lean, strong hand caught my arm and held me up. "Celeste.

You okay?" I found my feet. The night air came in cold and cleared a little of the fog. The man holding me up wore his suit well.

Fairskinned, thinframed glasses riding a straight nose, all quiet polish and warmth. Spencer Shen. My childhood friend. He went way back with the partner's boss.

Half the reason tonight closed so cleanly was Spencer agreeing to broker it. He was also the son of my father's oldest friend. And here's the thing.

If I'd never met Dominic, I might be the one marrying Spencer right now. My parents adored him. Two old families who knew each other down to the bone.

They'd gotten halfway to arranging the whole thing. Then I went and lost my head over Dominic. Just as eligible, even better pedigree.

They racked their brains for a single objection, came up empty, and the merger quietly died on the vine. So there I stood. Tipsy, propped on Spencer Shen's arm.

The man I'd nearly married. And Dominic was already on his way. Chapter 11 Headlights swept across my face and dragged me back to the present.

A second later, a RollsRoyce eased up to the curb. Dominic's car.

The instant it got close, his thoughts came flooding in. [ Guard every front, every flank, and the childhood friend still slips through the line. ] [ One lapse on my part and Shen finds the gap, gets my wife alone.

He's gained ground. She's still frozen on me. The enemy holds the high position and I'm pinned down below. ] [ And it's my own fault. My own dullness.

I'm the one who couldn't keep all that love in her eyes pointed my way. ] [ If she and the childhood friend reignite something, I am done for. ] Spencer and I never had an old flame to reignite.

The thing got strangled in the cradle before it so much as tried to crawl. These days it's strictly brothersister. I sighed. I couldn't even blame him for the misread, really.

This one was on my parents. Back when we'd married after our one reckless night, Dominic had come to ask for my hand.

His family outranked mine by a wide margin, so my parents, frantic to make him treasure me, talked me up like a limitededition release. Including the part about how wanted I was.

They told him suitors lined up around the block for me, and Spencer next door was Exhibit A.

Step out of line, they said, and I could turn around and land a catch like Spencer any day of the week. I stood right there listening to all of it, blinking.

Dominic had looked mildly surprised, then snapped back to cold inside a breath, like my history was none of his concern.

He just promised my parents, very seriously, that he'd be good to me. Now, with his thoughts laid bare, I finally understood.

He'd been carrying that little speech of theirs this whole time. And it had been quietly gnawing at him. Dominic stepped out of the car. Black bespoke suit, cut to the millimeter.

Tall, straight, sharp as a drawn blade. That beautiful cold face, that cold and gilded air that made people stand up straighter without knowing why. He came toward me, unhurried.

Nothing on the surface. Underneath, the same line on a loop. [ Composure. Composure. Don't react. Hold the line. ] [ She likes a steady man. I cannot be ruled by feeling.

A proper husband digests his emotions in private. ] Spencer greeted him with an easy warmth, gave a soft laugh, and turned to me. "Celeste. Mr.

Gu's a busy man, and he still clears his whole evening to come chauffeur you himself.

The two of you, flaunting it like this, you're trying to kill a poor bachelor with envy, aren't you?" Spencer meant nothing by it. A throwaway tease.

In Dominic's ears, it curdled into something else entirely. Chapter 12 [ Is Shen really standing in front of my wife, advertising that he's single? Pining?

Waiting for her to turn back to him? ] [ What is he thinking. One meeting. One dinner. It means nothing, and he's decided he's back in the running? ] [ Shen. Shen.

You have no idea how many new moves I picked up today. Tonight I win her back.

Tonight she dotes on me again. ] [ As long as I'm still standing, my wife won't have the bandwidth for another man.

Shen, you just picked a fight with the wrong man. ] "Settle down soon, Mr. Shen," Dominic said. "Then you won't have to envy other men." Same courteous, distant tone as ever.

Tonight it came with gunpowder packed underneath. Spencer felt it too, clearly, and had no clue where the hostility had come from. Before he could go digging, his driver rolled up.

We said our goodnights. Dominic had me in the car the second they were gone. I'd barely sat down before he leaned in. No warning. No words. I went rigid.

His face swelled to fill my whole vision, close enough that my pupils shook trying to track it. He kept coming.

My gaze dropped to his mouth before I could stop it, and the breath I'd been taking stopped halfway. This was it. He was going to kiss me.

Closer still, until that nearperfect face was a hair from mine. A graze of skin, there and gone.

His breath broke hot against the shell of my ear, and I caught myself starting to lean in. "Sit still." Low, magnetic, and entirely unfair, going straight through my eardrum.

In the tight quiet of the car there was nothing left but the slam of my own pulse. Click. The sound cracked the silence open. He'd buckled my seatbelt.

By the time I resurfaced, he was back in the driver's seat, settled, like nothing had happened. The sun had come up in the west.

This man had never once buckled my seatbelt in his life. Then again, you didn't have to think too hard to know what he was after. I stole a glance sideways.

That clean, superior profile, perfectly calm, not a ripple on it. His thoughts, on the other hand, sold him out completely. [ Charm move number one: the accidental touch.

Set the wife's heart racing. ] [ I think my face just grazed her soft little mouth. Ha. Hahaha.

How is my spacing this flawless. ] [ And that "sit still," pitched exactly low enough. The gravel in it. Very magnetic.

The book did say a man's voice scores bonus points. ] [ I'd say that whole sequence softened her right up. The book genuinely works. ] Called it.

The eagerchauffeur routine tonight came with an agenda attached. Only, did the seatbelt really have to happen tonight?

The man picked up one trick from a book and could not wait to take it for a spin. Chapter 13 Look, the whole facegrazingthemouth maneuver?

If it had been anyone else pulling it, anyone without that exact face to carry it, I'd have called the police. Pickup moves from a book do not work on everybody.

But on me, performed by Dominic, I'll grudgingly admit. They work.

His inner monologue was still running its mouth. [ Looks like it's time for the big guns tonight. ] [ I was going to pace myself.

Some of these moves are a lot, and I wasn't sure she'd like them, so I figured I'd hold them in reserve. But the rival's out here dancing in my face now.

I can't afford restraint. ] [ ...... ] Sorry, the what? The big guns? Go on. Elaborate. I pricked up my ears.

Instead I caught him, midscheme, heaving a sigh. [ She still won't talk to me first. So cold. ] [ Is this just how women are?

One day they decide they're out, and that's it? ] [ I can't survive a single day like this. I need her to love me. Hard. The way she used to. ] [ Tonight.

Tonight I melt the ice in her heart and bring her back to me if it's the last thing I do. ] The car flew toward home. I did stay silent the whole way, head turned to the window.

It wasn't that I didn't want to talk. It was that I needed to keep breathing, slow and deep, just to hold down the laugh climbing up my throat. What can I say.

The mental image of a certain someone getting home and mounting an entire prim, dignified production to seduce me had me wired. Genuinely thrilled. Whatever I'd had to drink, gone.

Burned clean off. This girl could go all night. The second we got home, Dominic, ever so considerate, offered to brew me a hangover tea.

He shrugged off his jacket, rolled his sleeves to the elbow, bared those solid forearms, and walked straight into the kitchen. He went in dry. He came out soaked.

Shirt drenched through, white cotton gone translucent and clinging to every line of him. Pecs, a full eightpack, surfacing and vanishing under the wet fabric. On total display.

I took the tea he handed me and gave him my most baffled look. "What on earth happened to you?" "Faucet in the kitchen burst.

Caught me." [ She'll never guess I broke that faucet myself. ] [ Wetshirt ambush. Does the wife approve? ] [ Yes. That, right there.

That melting look in her eyes, every bit of it aimed at me. She really does like it. I've still got it. ] [ Easy, wife. Let me step a little closer.

Give you the full view. ] And Dominic really did step closer.

Then he reached up, tugged his tie loose, flicked open the top two buttons, tipped his head back, and dragged a careless hand through his dripping hair.

A bead of water slid down his jaw, down his throat, and disappeared into his collar. There it was. Dripping with intent.

Chapter 14 I got the tea to my mouth fast, covering the sound of myself swallowing. "You should go shower. Quick, before you catch a chill." Dominic nodded and went. No argument.

Ten minutes later he strolled back out in nothing but a pair of briefs. This time the abs and that infuriatingly perfect build were simply out. No fabric left to argue about.

He met my scalding stare and explained, "Forgot my clothes." Then he didn't go upstairs. Not right away.

He drifted around the living room, in and out of my eyeline, busying himself with a whole lot of nothing. Then he sat down directly across from me and took a phone call.

For half an hour. I sipped my tea and let him believe he was getting away with it. As if I didn't know exactly what he was doing.

But there was a beautiful man on display, and I was happy to look.

I looked, openly and without a shred of shame, until the tips of Dominic's ears went red. [ I had no idea she liked looking at me this much.

If I'd known, I'd never have wrapped myself up so tightly all this time. She likes it, so from now on I dress like this at home.

Every day. ] [ Whatever the wife likes, I provide. ] Then he started, of all things, to pray. [ Wife. Since you like it this much. Pick me tonight. Please.

I can't do another night benched in the doghouse like the last one. ] I smiled and said nothing, then went to wash up and pull myself together too.

The two of us arrived at the final destination. The bed. I did what I always do. Opened my bedtime book and started to read. Calm as anything. Cool as a cucumber.

Beside me, Dominic was already coming apart at the seams. [ Why hasn't she pounced on me yet? ] [ Is my charm offensive somehow still not at full strength? ] [ That's it.

I can't take it anymore. ] Something in me stirred. Oh? He finally can't take it? The next second a shadow dropped over me. Weight settled across my body.

His breath closed in on every side. Dominic caged me inside his arms, black eyes dark with want. I lifted a brow, played innocent, and asked him with my eyes alone.

And what, exactly, are we doing here? His lips parted. Worked. Opened and closed. For the longest time, nothing came out.

Then, slowly, the rims of his eyes went red, and something lost crept into them. [ What am I doing?

She didn't make a move, which means she doesn't want this. ] [ I, I almost forced myself on her.

I should be courtmartialed. ] [ How do I even explain this now? ] [ Do I tell her I'm just... practicing my form? ] This man. Honestly.

We were this far in, pinned and breathless, and he still couldn't manage to be honest for one single second.

Was he really this scared of me finding out he's a hopeless, lovesick fool? What an idiot. Chapter 15 The laugh was coming.

I felt my mouth start to curve and went straight to emergency containment, pressing my lips flat to kill it. Bad call.

The instant my mouth moved, Dominic kissed me. [ She's responding! Tonight, I'm complete! ] Sorry. I was strangling a laugh, not puckering up.

Did somebody read the situation a little wrong? His breath came in, all command, sweet and unhurried and everywhere at once. My head went white. Fine. We can play it this far.

No sense torturing us both. So I answered him.

In the narrow space between one kiss and the next, I let out a soft breath, took his face in my hands, and looked at him with everything I had. "You lit this fire," I murmured. "You can put it out." Then my hand slid down, sure of the way.

Something in him gave. The careful, glacial control he'd guarded every single night came apart in my hands. His eyes went black. He didn't waste a word.

He pressed me back into the sheets and answered with his whole body, like a man starving who'd only just been told he was allowed to eat.

We fought our way through the fire all night. The next morning I felt incredible. So did he. He was, of course, still performing glacial.

I watched him pick up his phone, share the good news with Cody, and heap praise on him for a book that really, truly delivered.

Then, on the spot, he opened Cody's livestream and furiously dropped a hundred dollars in tips. The screen detonated into a glittering tower of gift animations.

My brother, I reflected, might just be the real winner here.

Honestly, if Cody weren't blood, I'd have wrestled that phone away and disputed every charge like a parent whose kid raided the credit card.

I messaged Cody and asked him to screenshot a few of his chats with Dominic. Cody's confusion came from somewhere deep in his soul. "Sis, why do you want my DMs with Mr. Sweet?

That's private." I gave a sweet little laugh. "What if Mr. Sweet were your brotherinlaw?" Cody went quiet. It took him a remarkably long time to process.

Then he managed exactly one sentence. "Sis, something just came up, gotta run." A few minutes later my phone started buzzing nonstop. A dozen screenshots dropped into the thread.

I picked the most damning one and saved it. That night, before we settled in to sleep, I opened the image and set the phone down in front of him. "Care to explain?" Fun was fun.

But I'd had my fill, and some misunderstandings are better dragged into the open sooner than later. Dominic's face was perfectly calm.

Then he registered what was on the screen, and every last drop of color drained out of it. I held up the screenshot and started to read it out loud. One word at a time.

Chapter 16 "Coach. My wife likes the cold, untouchable type and can't stand greasy, smoothtalking guys. But underneath it all I'm a hopeless sap who lives to murmur sweet nothings.

I'm terrified she'll think I'm greasy and gross. How do I get through daily life with her