English Accent (The Accents #1)

I'm in

Brandon Sambler was the exact replica of his nephew. Or rather, his nephew was the exact replica of him. Anyway, they were like two sides of the same coin. He had the same dark brown hair that Dominic did, the same crooked smile, strikingly similar features. Only his eyes were more green than hazel. Apart of that, he looked exactly like I imagined Dominic was going to look like in thirty years.

Not to mention their matching personalities. From what I've already seen, Dominic's uncle was much to handle, too.

Fortunately, he was more focused on irritating his nephew than me. In fact, it looked like he saw some kind of a goddess in me. He said I was an angel to have enough patience to handle Dominic. Truth be told, if I was his real girlfriend, I would feel quite honored by the way he treated me. His tone was all humor and jokes, but I could tell he was really happy to see that his nephew has finally settled down. I felt almost... ashamed that all of this was just a bluff.

Apart from us, there were only two people there. When we stepped into the living room, I spotted a man and a woman around Bran's age sitting on the couch. I had no idea who they were, but Dominic seemed to know them since their greeting was very warm. They exchanged hugs and kisses on the cheek as I stepped aside, trying to gain some distance. I wasn't spared any introductions, though, no matter how hard I tried to make myself nonexistent. The woman, Karen, and the man, Andrew, were very nice to me. They were Bran's colleges from work, and apparently the only friends to be considered close enough to come to his birthday party. I had to admit, it was the first time when I was in one room with so many cops and I felt kind of surrounded.

Especially when Dominic came to my side and threw his heavy arm across my shoulders, crowding me. When he got too much carried away with playing his role and tried to bite my ear, I was tempted to say hell with it and run to the hills. I was saved by Bran coming into the room, saying the dinner was ready.

We all moved to the small dining room, where the table was already set. My forehead wrinkled with confusion when I did some maths, discovering that there were eight plates on the table. I was just opening my mouth to ask about it but was stopped by the sound of the bell ringing. Meanwhile, Dominic made a show of his good manners and pulls out the chair for me. I forced myself not to roll my eyes and sit down without a comment. Keeping my mouth shut was a hard task, though. I got this whole men etiquette thing, but I couldn't quite wrap my head around it. I knew that they were just trying to be nice and all, but it didn't sit well with me. I didn't like people helping me in general, but when someone opened the door for me, pulled out my chair, or took off my jacket, I felt like a cripple. I mean, come on, I could do all of those things myself. I didn't need anyone to help me with everything. Because, seriously, I had my own two hands and a fully functioning brain for a reason, and I didn't want to die never using it properly.

"Stop scowling." Dominic's murmur snapped me out of my thoughts.

But of course, his comment only made me frown harder.

"I'm not scowling." I hissed, trying to keep my voice low.

His husky chuckle caused goose bumps to spread along the skin of my neck.

"Remind me to bring a mirror next time. Or at least a camera." he said. "Look at you. You look like a squinting kitten."

Next time? There would be no next time. It was a one-time thing, and it was never going to repeat again. I didn't manage to explain it to him, though, because a commotion rose in the hall, stopping me.