Bad Boy Dom (23 page)

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Authors: Ellen Harper

BOOK: Bad Boy Dom
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The house was quiet and dark when I got home, and Archie’s car wasn’t in the driveway. I heard Mom humming upstairs, and she rushed towards me when she heard the door open.

 

“Domenic!” she cried, throwing her arms around me. “I’m so glad you’re home!”

 

“I wasn’t gone forever, Mom,” I said, hugging her and rolling my eyes. “I was just out with Ryan. What’s wrong?”

 

My mom giggled and pulled away. I thought she was going to start gushing about Archie, but she put her hands over her mouth and said, “I have the most wonderful news!”

 

“That’s great, Mom,” I replied. “Can we talk later? I really need to take a shower.” I tried to push past her and walk upstairs but she clutched my sleeve impatiently.

 

“No, honey, it’s about you!” She looked at me expectantly and grinned. “A gallery in San Diego called! They want to show your work!”

Chapter
Twenty-Eight

 

Michelle

 

That morning, I woke up feeling different. Not expectant, the way I used to feel on the first day of school, but just different. My stomach was in knots and even though I’d gone to bed early, I was still exhausted.

 

“So this is the big day?” Eric raised his eyebrows at me when I walked in the kitchen. “You’re really going to go on a first date with someone?”

 

“Really truly,” I said, blushing crimson red all over. At Eric’s urging, I’d finally written back to that cute guy on the dating site. We’d been chatting for a few weeks and I’d finally gotten the courage to ask him out. I was so nervous about meeting him in person. Even though we already knew all kinds of weird stuff about each other, I knew there was a chance our chemistry could be off. Eric had told me so many first-date woes that I almost backed out right then and there.

 

“I’m proud of you,” Eric said finally. “It’s about time you did something else for yourself.”

 

“What if it sucks?” I asked flatly. Eric poured me a mug of coffee and slid it across the table. “What will I do then?”

 

Eric shrugged. “I’ll be at the gallery opening, too,” he said. “Just come find me and I’ll take you home.”

 

I narrowed my eyes at him. “But what if you find someone that you want to leave with first?”

 

He sighed. “Then call me and I’ll ditch my booty call to pick you up, okay?”

 

I picked up my phone and swiped it open, absentmindedly checking my email. “Okay,” I grumbled in agreement. “I’m still nervous, though.”

 

Eric grinned. “I’m just so proud of you,” he said, beaming. “It’s so nice to know that my little Michelle is getting out of her shell.”

 

I winced. “You sound like my stepmom,” I pointed out. “She always says batty things like that.”

 

He rolled his eyes and came over to give me a hug. I felt better. With Sandy it was like she just babbled useless nonsense because she was afraid of silence, but with Eric it was because he actually understood me and cared about me.

 

“Where is this place anyway?” I frowned as I stared at the map on my phone. “It looks like we’re going out to the middle of nowhere.”

 

“We are,” Eric replied cheerfully. “It’s in a barn in the country, but doesn’t that sound kind of romantic and exciting to you?”

 

I frowned. “As long as I don’t get raped and left to die in a ditch, yeah,” I said. “Generally, I hate being out in the country. Especially with a bunch of weird art people.”

 

“Me, too,” Eric said. “Barn animals and I don’t mix. Or artists, usually, but this seems fun.”

 

“I hope so,” I said narrowly. “Christian and I are meeting there.”

 

“Christian?” Eric looked at me and made a face. “You had to pick someone with that pretentious of a name. Who doesn’t just go by ‘Chris’?”

 

I let his comment slide. “He seems nice,” I said. “He was very polite and charming online.”

 

“Just be on your guard,” Eric warned. “Sometimes people are much different in person.”

 

It took me hours to get ready for the date. I was so nervous. I’d never really been on a first date—or any date—before, and I wasn’t even sure what I should wear. I picked a cocktail dress with dramatic eye makeup and heels, but Eric took one look at me and sent me back upstairs to change.

 

“You’re gonna freak him out if you show up in that kind of attire, baby doll,” he said. “You need to pick something a little more casual, or he’s going to think that he picked the wrong place to hang out.”

 

I frowned. This was my favorite and most flattering dress, and I felt like I looked pretty good. But I trusted Eric, so I trooped upstairs and settled on black skinny jeans with ankle boots and a black silk top. I kept my eye makeup, but smudged a little bit and made my hair into a messy chignon. I felt like I looked like an art student, but Eric assured me that everyone would be dressed like that.

 

“But you’ll still be the most fabulous,” he finished. “You always are.”

 

“Thanks,” I said, blushing. “Do you really think it’ll be okay?” I looked into Eric’s serious brown eyes and waited for him to laugh or crack a joke, but he did neither.

 

“You’ll be great, I know you will,” he said finally. “It’s been six months since we came out here, and look how awesome things have been for both of us. I know this’ll be a great night for you!”

 

I was too nervous to eat dinner, but I didn’t want to have an empty stomach so I nibbled at some crackers and ginger ale. The hours dragged by and right after the sun had set, I told Eric I was leaving and went out to my car.

 

I had directions and the address plugged into the maps app on my phone, but I got lost anyway. The gallery was way out in the hills and I could see the lights of San Diego shining when I got far enough away. I was supposed to meet Christian at eight o’clock, but I didn’t even pull into the parking lot until close to nine. He hadn’t texted or called, and in the pit of my stomach I was worried that he’d stood me up.

 

The barn was packed with people staring at weird portraits on the wall. I didn’t know the names of the artists, but Christian had told me that it was a showcase of different works from the Midwest.

 

“Michelle?” I looked up to see a guy of medium height walking towards me. He wore black trousers and a white Oxford shirt unbuttoned at the top. It was Christian, but he looked about five years older than he had in the pictures online. His dark hair was sexy, but threaded with grey at the temples, and I could see some grey in his stubble as well. He grinned, and reached in for a hug. Christian’s arms felt warm and good around me, and he smelled like spicy, citrusy cologne.

 

“Hi,” I said shyly. “I’m so sorry about being late. I got lost in the hills.”

 

“You’re not from here, right?” Christian replied, looking around the room. I had a weird feeling; aside from the greeting, he was already ignoring me. I figured he was upset with me for being late, and that he’d probably get over it soon.

 

“From the Midwest, remember?” I joked, looking up at him. He gazed at me with a smirk and then resumed scanning the room.

 

“Let’s get you a drink,” Christian said in an absent-minded voice. He guided me by the elbow through the crowded room over to the bar. “She’ll have a whiskey coke,” he said to the bartender. “I’ll have prosecco.”

 

“Could I have prosecco too?” I asked, wrinkling my nose. “I’m not a big whiskey fan.”

 

“I can tell,” Christian said in a droll voice. The bartender smirked and batted her eyelashes at him. She was one of those perfect alternative girls with black hair and tattoos all over. He made a big show of checking her out and letting his eyes linger on her chest. I felt really uncomfortable. Christian was no better than Dom and his asshole friends had been in high school.

 

Frowning, I took my unwanted cocktail in both hands and watched as my date flirted with the bartender for so long that the people waiting behind us started making comments.

 

“Christian,” I said finally, feeling like an ass. “Let’s go look at the works.”

 

“Fine,” he said, shooting the bartender a sexy glance. “Whatever.”

 

We strolled through the crowded barn and I paid attention to all the works on the walls. There were a few portraits of people who I thought looked familiar, but nothing too interesting. I had to pump Christian for information about himself. It was pretty horrible. I hoped Eric would show up soon to rescue me, but I hadn’t yet spotted his perky self among the droll audience.

 

“So you’re from the Midwest?” Christian repeated, taking a sip of his wine. “What’s that like?”

 

“It sucks,” I said flatly. “People are ignorant hicks and everyone drinks and drives all the time.”

 

Christian turned to me. “Wow, venom!” he said in a sarcastic tone. I didn’t know whether he was making fun of what I’d said or agreeing with me. “Do you have an ex-boyfriend out there?”

 

Panic rose in my throat. “Not exactly,” I said. “Just someone I wanted to get away from.”

 

“I understand that,” Christian said in a dry voice. “This art sucks, do you wanna go somewhere else?”

 

“Where?” I frowned. “We’re pretty far out in the boonies.”

 

“Like, to my apartment,” he said in exasperation. “Come on, we’ve been talking for weeks. Are you really going to make me work for it?”

 

“What are you talking about?” I asked, stepping backwards. “Just because we’ve been talking doesn’t mean I’m going to have sex with you.”

 

He rolled his eyes. “Whatever,” he said. “Fine. Forget I said anything.”

 

I pushed past him and stopped dead in my tracks in front of a giant oil painting on the wall in front of me. My heart leapt into my throat when I realized who the painting was of, and I whipped my head around from side to side. I knew Domenic had to be here somewhere; if his portrait of me was the centerpiece of the exhibition, he couldn’t be far behind.

 

I heard a chuckle and I turned around to see Christian, smirking, staring at me and the painting.

 

“That’s too much,” he said. “She almost looks like you! If you weren’t an uptight little cunt, that is.”

 

I stepped back, feeling stung. “Fuck you,” I replied. “I’m leaving.”

 

A masculine voice yelled, “Wait!” but I didn’t stop walking. Tears blurred my vision and my heart was pounding against my chest. Why did every interaction I have with men suck? Was the problem with me, and not with them?

 

“You don’t talk to her like that,” I heard a low voice growl. Then, Christian began to protest. I whirled around to see Dom with Christian in a headlock, digging his knuckles into Christian’s head.

 

“Dom!” I gasped, unable to comprehend what was happening. I watched as he tussled with Christian in the middle of the room, eventually throwing him on the floor like he weighed nothing and standing over top of him. Dom threatened Christian with his fist, and Christian got up and scrambled out of the room, throwing me a worried glance on his way out. Everyone was staring at me and I felt myself begin to hyperventilate. I had no idea what Dom was doing there, or why he had finished the portrait, or why he’d come to my rescue. All I could focus on was him, and his gorgeous face and body.

 

Whenever Dom was around, I felt all logic and rational ability to think leave my brain. My body pulsed and sang with his presence, and I wanted nothing more than to throw myself in his arms and wrap my limbs around him.
No, Michelle, not again
, I told myself.

 

“Michelle?” Dom tried, stepping closer and holding his hands out. All of the hurt and pain from the past six months came rushing back and I pushed him away, feeling tears leak out of my eyes and run down my face as I ran out of the gallery and got into my car. I didn’t look behind me to see if Dom was following; all I knew was that I had to get out of there as soon as possible.

 

I drove rapidly through the woods, trying to remember all the twists and turns that I’d used before. Everything and nothing looked familiar, and I flew down the roads in my little car. Thoughts of Dom were racing wildly through my mind.
How did he get here? How did he know I would be here? What the hell is he trying to do anyway?

 

I couldn’t get him out of my head. It was like all the progress I’d made just vanished and evaporated into the sun. I hated myself for succumbing to him the same way I always did. It was like I turned on autopilot whenever he was around. There was a pulsing wetness between my legs, and I cursed my body for betraying my emotions.

 

As I thought about Dom driving wildly through the woods, I noticed a faint smell of something burning. Soon it looked like I was driving through clouds of smoke. I wondered where the fire was; I hadn’t seen anything in the desolate hills.
Oh my god,
I thought, skidding to a stop in a panic.
It’s coming from under the hood!

 

I wrenched the door open and hopped outside, watching in dismay as plumes of smoke curled skyward from the hood of my tiny car.

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