His innocent wife is a dangerous hacker.-Chapter 621 Drunk

Knock.

Knock.

Dominique groaned, rolling over in bed and burying his face in the pillow. The knocking continued, persistent and annoying.

Who the hell would be at his door at this hour? Jason had gone out somewhere, so he couldn’t even yell at his friend to get it.

He stumbled out of bed, wearing only loose sleep pants, his hair a complete disaster. He rubbed his eyes as he shuffled toward the door, ready to unleash a stream of complaints on whoever dared disturb his sleep.

He yanked the door open.

"Who—"

The word died in his throat.

Hazel stood there.

His eyes went wide. He blinked once. Twice. Rubbed them again to make sure he wasn’t dreaming.

"Hazelnut?" The word slipped out before his brain could catch up.

Hazel stared at him, her expression shifting from drunk confusion to shock. "Nut?"

Dom’s face went red. "Oh no, sorry—that just came out, I didn’t mean—" He laughed nervously, running a hand through his messy hair. "You know, I was eating hazelnuts earlier this evening. Like, a whole bag of them. So they were on my mind. And then I saw you and my brain just—" He made a vague gesture. "Connected things it shouldn’t have. I’m sorry. That was weird."

Hazel blinked slowly, processing this through her clearly alcohol-affected brain. Then, to his immense relief, she nodded.

"It’s okay," she said, her voice softer than usual, slightly slurred. "Sorry if I disturbed you."

Dom leaned against the doorframe, suddenly very aware that he was shirtless. "You didn’t. I mean, you did, but it’s fine. Are you okay?"

Hazel swayed slightly. "I met my old friends tonight. After a long time." A small, genuine smile touched her lips. "They were happy for me. Really happy. We talked and laughed and..." She trailed off, gesturing vaguely. "I drank pretty much. Now I feel dizzy."

Dom’s eyes swept over her, taking in the details he’d been too sleepy to notice before.

She was wearing a tight-fitting black dress that hugged every curve. The neckline dipped just enough to be dangerous. The fabric clung to her like it had been painted on. Her hair was styled to one side, falling in soft waves that covered the scarred side of her face, leaving the beautiful side completely exposed.

She looked stunning.

Absolutely, breathtakingly stunning.

"And your house is nearby," Hazel continued, unaware of his internal crisis. "So I thought... maybe I could... sit for a minute? Until the dizziness passes?"

Dom stepped aside immediately. "Yeah. Yes. Of course. Come in."

Hazel walked past him, and the scent of her perfume, something floral and warm, wafted into his space. He closed the door and leaned against it for half a second, gathering himself.

Then he turned to face her.

She stood in his living room, looking around at the space with sleepy curiosity. The dim lighting from his one lamp caught her features, those electric blue eyes, slightly glazed from alcohol. That perfect cheekbone. Those lips, slightly parted.

"I like your place," she murmured. "It’s cozy."

"It’s a mess," Dom admitted. "Jason was here earlier. We made popcorn and watched something stupid. I haven’t cleaned."

Hazel turned to look at him, and her gaze drifted down his bare chest before snapping back to his face. A faint blush colored her cheeks, visible even in the dim light.

"You should put on a shirt," she said quietly.

Dom looked down at himself, then back at her. A slow, teasing smile spread across his face. "Why? Does it bother you?"

"No." Too fast. She looked away. "I mean—it’s cold. You’ll catch something."

"It’s not cold."

Hazel’s jaw tightened slightly. "Dominique."

He laughed softly and grabbed a shirt from the back of a chair, pulling it over his head. "Better?"

She didn’t answer. Just walked to his couch and sat down carefully, like she wasn’t sure her legs would hold her.

Dom sat beside her, leaving a respectful distance. "Do you want water? Coffee? Something to eat?"

"Water would be good."

He stood, grabbed a bottle from the kitchen, and handed it to her. Their fingers brushed. Neither mentioned it.

Hazel drank slowly, then set the bottle on the table. She stared at her hands for a moment.

"They were really happy for me," she said softly. "My friends. They said I seemed different. Lighter. They asked what changed."

Dom waited.

"And I didn’t know what to tell them." She looked up at him, those blue eyes piercing even through the alcohol haze. "Because I don’t really know what changed. Or who changed it."

Dom’s heart hammered. "Maybe you changed yourself."

"Maybe." She held his gaze. "Or maybe someone showed me I was worth changing for."

The air between them thickened.

Dom swallowed. "Hazel..."

"I’m drunk," she said suddenly, looking away. "I shouldn’t say things I’ll regret tomorrow."

"Say them anyway."

She looked back, surprised.

Dom leaned forward slightly. "Say them. Whatever it is. I won’t hold it against you tomorrow."

Hazel studied him for a long, searching moment.

Then she whispered, "I think about you. More than I should. When I wake up. Before I sleep. Random times during the day. It’s annoying."

Dom’s lips curved. "Annoying?"

"Yes. I have things to do. I don’t have time to think about a model with perfect hair and stupidly long eyelashes."

"Stupidly long?"

"They’re ridiculous. It’s distracting."

He laughed softly. "I’m sorry my eyelashes distract you."

"No you’re not."

"No," he agreed. "I’m really not."

Hazel shook her head, but she was smiling. That small, real smile he loved.

"You should sleep," he said gently. "I have a guest room. You can stay there tonight."

"Your guest room?"

"Or my bed. I’ll take the guest room. Whatever makes you comfortable."

Hazel looked at him. At his messy hair, his stupidly handsome face, his earnest eyes.

"Stay with me," she whispered.

Dom’s breath caught. "What?"

"In the guest room. Just... stay. I don’t want to be alone right now."

He nodded slowly. "Okay."

They stood together. Dom grabbed a blanket from the closet, led her to the guest room, and settled on the edge of the bed. Hazel climbed in beside him, still in her dress, and lay facing him.

"You’re very pretty," she murmured, already half-asleep.

Dom smiled. "You’re drunk."

"Still true."

He brushed a strand of hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear. The scar was visible now. He didn’t look away.

"Sleep, Hazel."

"Mm." Her eyes fluttered closed. "Dominique?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you. For opening the door."

He watched her drift off, her breathing evening out, her face peaceful in sleep.

"Anytime," he whispered.

And then he just... sat there.

Staring at her.

Grinning like an absolute idiot.

She thinks about me all day.

The thought echoed in his head, bouncing around like a happy little drum.

When she wakes up. Before she sleeps. Random times.

His grin widened until his cheeks hurt.

She noticed my eyelashes. She called them stupidly long. She’s distracted by them.

Dom pressed a hand to his stomach, where something was fluttering. Butterflies? Actual butterflies? He hadn’t felt this giddy since... ever. Maybe never.