I can't move on

Chapter 7: Am I just afraid of lovin



Holy fuck.

I looked around. I'm still in the hospital; my leg and arm are still broken.

Mother fucker. I was praying that this was all a dream, but it wasn't. 

"Yeah, I'm waiting for him to wake up right now." There, Dominic stood shirtless. He had a sleeve tattoo and only had his jeans on.

"Wait, I'll call you back. I think he's awake," he said, ending the call and turning around.

His smile was warm and his facial features were soft.

"Hi baby, you sleep well?" Dom said and he came over and kissed me on the head.

Damn, did they up my dosage of painkiller or am I just delirious?

"Baby?" I asked, looking at him like he had 3 fucking heads. 

"Yes?"

He sat down on the bed and awkwardly stroked my nonbroken leg.

What in the world is this old hag doing?

"Aren't you a doll?" He said, leaning in, and before I knew it, his lips touched mine.

He pulled back and he smiled at me.

Oh god, my heart is racing. What is happening?

Oh god. Oh god.

I felt myself shoot up.

I looked around; I was in the hospital again.

My arm and leg were still broken and my heart was fucking racing.

"I am not looking at him while I sleep," Dominic shouted on the phone.

This time he was shirtless; he had one arm fully tattooed, and he had his back fully tattooed too. The other arm was a prosthetic arm.

His hand looked human but the rest of it was robotic looking.

I felt my heart skip a beat.

God, for this old fuck?

I don't know, but with all the tattoos and that sick-looking arm, it just makes him 10x hotter.

I'm not saying that he was hot before; I have class, I swear, but it's giving robo dilf.

Wait, didn't my sister say that?

Oh shit, now I understand.

Wait so is this real life?

The beeping was back. It had to be.

I still can't help but look at that arm; it's so fucking cool.

"I am not! Leo, please believe me," Dominic said, laughing in between yelling as he paced around my hotel room.

"It's just hot. I will put back on my shirt in a minute. He's probably going to wake up soon," he said and I watched as he turned around.

We made eye contact and I watched as his eyes went wide.

He looked mortified; if I didn't know any better, I'd say he looked like he wanted to cry.

"I'll, uh, call you back," he said and he dropped his phone down on the table as he quickly grabbed his button-up.

He kept eye contact with me as he frantically put back on the button-up he had on.

"Your tattoos are awesome," I said and I watched as he calmed.

"Yeah?"

"Hell yeah. Come show me," I said and he froze.

"Don't look at me like that. I know you have a crush on me, weirdo," I said and he seemed to calm down. I don't know but that made me happy and calm in this weird way.

Weird.

He came over and stood awkwardly next to me.

"Take off your shirt, big poppa," I said and he sighed.

"I love it when you call me Big Poppa-."

"I get it; I get it; just stop," he said and I watched him as he took off his shirt.

"I know that was expensive," I said as he sat down on the bed with his back facing me.

"Came with the job."

"Like a mafia boss?"

"Exactly," he said and I nodded, looking at them.

"I used to have two full-arm sleeves, but, you know," he said and I smiled.

"I'm sure it was cool."

"Yeah. Well, the first one is a lion head on my upper arm; this one hurt and took forever to heel. It symbolizes strength, leadership, and courage."

"You got that off Pinterest?" I asked and he rolled his eyes.

"No, my previous boss said it would be good."

"Nice, nice."

"These Roman numerals are all the important dates in my life. Bella's birthday, the day I took over all of this, Leo's birthday and the day I got my PhD," he said with a smile.

"How long have you and Leo been friends?"

"Oh god, I don't even remember; I think I was 2 and he was an infant and well, we have been friends ever since and now he works with me and he's basically like my brother," he said and I smiled.

I wish I had a friend like that.

"Uh, I also have these rosary beads going around my arm and they go into a cross. While I'm not religious, my old boss and parents are, so I got it from them because they believe it signifies protection," he said, and I nodded.

"This one is rad," I said, pointing at a skull with a crown.

"Now that one I got off Pinterest," and I started laughing as I traced his tattoo.

I watched as he shivered.

I smirked, fucking weirdo.

"The clock with no hands is about destiny and, well, my own time and life," he explained and I nodded.

"Then I have this thorny rose bush thing about beauty and pain and I was advised not to get it across my forehead against my better judgement."

"That would ruin your handsome face," I said, stroking the tattoo with my arm.

He turned back and gave me this freaky look.

"What? Stop giving me that freaky look," I said, laughing and pushing him slightly.

"You think I'm handsome?" he said.

"Did I say that?"

"You did; I heard it come out of your mouth."

"I don't recall," I said and he smiled at me. 

"Stop giving me that freaky look," I said again, and I pushed him this time a little harder.

"I-."

"Show me some more tattoos, Daddy-o," I said and he nodded.

"This one hurt like a fucker and took like 4 weeks because I was bawling my eyes out every time," he said, showing me a giant phoenix on the side of his arm.

"Your crying would be a sight to see; now turn back around, Daddy," I said, trying to turn him around with my working arm.

"Daddy?"

"If you don't turn your disgusting ass around," I said and he started laughing and turned back around so his back was facing me.

"Okay, this dragon is oddly low," I said and I watched as he jerked forward as I touched it.

It was on his lower back and it was a colored tattoo.

"Sorry," he said.

"There is no need to apologize; what does this symbolize? Oh shit, it goes around this side too," I said and he jerked again as I touched his hip.

He snapped his head back at me. "You are doing that on purpose now."

"Just explain to me the damn tattoo."

"Okay, uh, its a symbol of power and protection and I just think its really fucking cool," he said and that was valid.

"And I have this weird crest thing below my neck and its something about loyalty," he said and I nodded.

"And what does this say?" I said, stroking his shoulder blade.

"It's in Italian; I also had another one in Korean but it's gone, because, uh. My arm-."

"Are you Korean?" I asked.

"Uh yeah, my mom is and my dad is Italian," he explained.

"Oh nice. What does it say?"

"I don't know; I don't speak Italian."

"Do you speak Korean?"

"I can count to like twenty and say hello," he said and I laughed.

"That's like me and my Spanish," I said, and this time he laughed.

"This city is cool too," I said.

"Yeah its-." he snapped his head back at me. "Stop touching my lower back."

"I'm sorry, continue," I said and he rolled his eyes.

"It's where I grew up—this place. This is the place I have called home and where I built my empire," he said.

"These angel wings are awesome; I love these kinds of tattoos," I said.

"Me too; that's why I got it because it takes a lot of room on my back and is fucking awesome."

"And what about this?" There was a snake on his spine and I stroked it with one of my fingers.

He jerked forward, and this time he stood up.

He turned to face me and I put my arms up, the broken one to the best of my ability.

He let out a shaky breath and I watched as he studied me.

"Stop, stop. Stop, no freaky smile-." Before I knew it, he jumped on me.

"Stop touching my back," he yelled in between laughs.

God, he has a great body.

He was ripped and I mean, sexy ripped, like, Oh no, I'm drowning, I need a sexy dilf to save me kind of ripped.

"What? Am I hurting you?"

"Uh, uh," why am I stuttering over this man? What is happening to me?

His skin was this warm olive tone, and his face was smooth. He had smile lines and some wrinkles on his forehead and near his eyes.

His face had a blend of sharp, defined features with soft aspects to them.

He had high cheekbones and a strong jawline. He was hot.

What the fuck?

His eyes were almond-shaped and they were this dark, sexy color. 

I felt myself reach out for his hair.

"You have nice hair," I said and he looked embarrassed.

My stomach started to feel all icky as his face changed.

I heard the door open and I watched as he quickly got up.

I started laughing as the nurse walked in with crushes.

Shirtless Dominic stood there and tried his best not to look awkward.

"These are for you; have you ever used crutches?" she asked me.

"Nope, especially not with a broken arm," I said and she nodded.

"Okay, so you can put them under your arm and then." She proceeds to walk around the room and show me how to use them.

"Or," she turned her attention to Dominic. "You can ask your husband, to help you."

I started laughing.

"Uh, we aren't married," Dominic interjected.

"He's actually my sugar daddy," I said and the lady looked embarrassed.

"I-I, uh," the nurse started to stutter as I continued to fucking die.

"I'm playing; he's my fiance. He's just too poor to pay for our wedding," I said, pushing him with my working arm.

"Don't; watch out for your arm," Dominic snapped at me.

The lady nodded.

"And I'm not poor," Dominic interjected again.

I like how that's the only thing he took away from my comment.

"Okay, uh, maybe your fiance can help you with the crutches, or he can carry you because he looks pretty strong," she said.

"Hey, are you checking out my man?" Oh god, I'm so funny.

"Uh no-."

"I'm joking. You hear that, daddy-o you have to help me walk around?" I asked and Dom's face just continued to get red as I laughed.

"Just make sure you don't hurt yourself more because that could be dangerous, so maybe lay off whatever you were doing when I walked in for a while," she said.

Oh god, I'm dying. I can't stop laughing.

My dearest fake fiance looked fucking mortified and I couldn't stop laughing.

"Okay, thank you a lot," I said and she nodded and awkwardly shuffled out.

"Don't look at me like that; you came on to me."

"That sounds so much worse than it was."

I started laughing again.

"Why did you say I was your fiance?" he asked.

"Because I'm funny, that's why. Now help me," I said, shuffling in bed.

"With what?"

"Bathroom," I said and he gave me a freaky look.

"You nasty shit, just help me get into the bathroom," I said, reaching out for him.

I think his being a dad made me trust him a lot more than I should.

He was handsome and had this warm aura about him. While strict and definitely some temperament issues, he was kind deep down, and it made me trust him too much.

"Actually, go get the crutches first so I can practice using them," I said and he nodded.

"Wait, let me help you stand first," he said and he grabbed me and stood me on my feet.

"Does it hurt to stand?"

"No, I still think they have me drugged," I joked and he nodded.

He bent down.

"Nah, what the-." He lifted me up over his shoulder and walked over to the bathroom.

"I don't want your arm to hurt," he said as he put his arm under my ass as he opened the bathroom door.

"Yes, before you ask, I can still use the prosthetic arm. They told me how it works but I was too delirious to even understand," he said and he walked into the bathroom and shut the door behind him.

He plopped me down on the toilet and sighed.

"For someone of your stature, you are very bottom-heavy," he said, slumping down on the random chair in the hospital bathroom.

"Bitch, what the fuck does that even mean? Get out so I can piss," I said, making an effort to stand up and I heard him get out of the chair.

"It means," he said, grabbing my waist and getting close to my ears. "You have a fat ass."

Chills ran down my back as I elbowed him.

"What?" he said.

"You are nasty," I spat at him.

"What? I'm literally helping you stand, now get your dick out and hurry up," he said, irritated.

I can't with him.

Why was I getting chills from this old man?

Is this what letting your guard down is?

I'm fucked, literally.


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