Bad Boy Dom (17 page)

Michelle

“What do you think?” I craned my neck to look up at Eric, who was perched beside me. Mirrored sunglasses covered most of his face and I couldn’t discern his expression.

Eric made a small noise of approval. “I like it,” he said thoughtfully. We were standing outside of the main student union for UC San Diego’s med school. The whole morning we’d been on a tour, but now we were breaking into smaller groups and talking about what had motivated us all to come. Admittedly, I liked the hippie-dippie approach that permeated the air out here. It felt so different from the Midwest, and already the nightmare of the past few weeks had begun to fade away. I still couldn’t believe what happened, but out here it seemed less like reality and more like a bad dream. Eric leaned his head on my shoulder.

“So…is there a chance I could persuade you to join me out here?” I raised my eyebrows and stared at Eric’s face. His eyes looked serious, but then his forehead crinkled and he laughed as he pushed me away.

“Get out of my face, girl,” he teased. “You know this place is gorgeous.” A group of blonde guys walked past us carrying surfboards and Eric made another appreciative noise. “And those boys were some honey,” he added under his breath, winking at me conspiratorially.

“They are cute,” I admitted, wrinkling my nose. “But don’t you like the vibe here, too?”

“It’s the chilliest of chill,” Eric agreed. He pushed his sunglasses higher up on his nose and tilted his head back

“So.” I turned to him and stared. Eric was annoyingly cool and impenetrable; it seemed like he could never tell when you were checking him out.  I hated to admit it, but it reminded me of Dom. Well, of Dom and of every other “cool” guy that I’d ever known. “Are you thinking it’s going to be enough to sway you?”

“Speaking of chill.” Eric looked at me. “You need to chill out. Why is it so important where I go?” He puffed out his chest and looked from side to side. “You’ll be fabulous anywhere.”

“I don’t think that’s true,” I said in a dry voice. “You know how many problems I have socializing.”

Eric pulled down his sunglasses and looked at me with such an intensity that I almost felt a little frightened. He sighed. “You’re right,” he admitted. “But don’t you think that the best thing for you is to move on and come out here? Even if you’re alone, you’re not going to know anyone. You’re going to be as free as you want to create your own future. Isn’t that what you want?”

“Totally,” I admitted. “It really is.”

“Then you’re settled.” Eric leaned back and let the sun warm his face. “You’re going to be coming here anyway.”

I knew he was right, even though I didn’t want to admit it. The past few weeks had been pretty horrible, and it felt like a year had passed instead of less than a month. I knew that I couldn’t go home again. It wouldn’t be the same thing. It wasn’t just my house anymore; it was also Dom’s house. And I knew that as long as he was there, I’d never be able to relax. Just when I thought things were working between us as friends, I’d been reminded of the past and of Dom’s true nature at the most innocuous of moments. No, Dom and I were never going to be able to be friends or enjoy a normal, familial relationship. At least I didn’t worry about Dad and Sandy finding out anymore. With a lump in my throat I realized that no matter what happened now, Dad and Sandy would think that it was my fault. It was more painful than I could have ever imagined. I didn’t think that in addition to losing Dom, I’d lose my family, too. But maybe Dad would be happier this way. He’d have a wife who took care of him and a new son. Probably better than a depressing daughter who spent her whole life moping.

“Hey, earth to Michelle,” Eric said, snapping his fingers in front of my face. “I was saying that I think I want to go here, too.”

“Really?” I grinned. “Eric, you’re the best.”

“No,” Eric replied. “He is.” I followed his line of sight and saw a shirtless brunette guy sunbathing with a book. I rolled my eyes. At least with Eric, life wouldn’t be boring. 

***

Domenic

After the little run in with Mom and Archie, I hid in my room and took a shower. The half-finished portrait of Michelle was in my closet. I felt like tearing through the canvas with a knife, but something inside told me not to. I almost never listened to myself like that, but for some reason I couldn’t stop thinking that if I destroyed the painting, something bad would happen.
Shake it off, Thomas
, I told myself as I soaped up in the shower.
You’re a fucking man.

Mom and Archie made themselves scarce that afternoon, and after a while, being in my room alone with half-painted Michelle was too much. I decided to go for a run and try to clear my head. Maybe when I got back I could start thinking about what to do. I had to get Michelle to talk to me. After I’d gotten home this morning, I’d called her twice and sent five texts. As you can probably guess, she didn’t call me back. I thought that maybe Archie could tell me where she was planning to visit, then go out there and surprise her. Women liked grand gestures, right? On my run, I came up with this grandiose idea. I’d sell some of the jewelry Mom had given me, buy a ring, buy a plane ticket, grab some flowers and get out there and get my woman back. I could see it now: I walk up to her and drop to a knee with the flowers and ring, she swoons and falls into my arms, covering me with kisses. There was a slight stirring in my groin at the mental image of Michelle clinging to me with her great little body, planting hot kisses on my neck.

Of course, when I got home I realized how stupid the whole idea was. Michelle wasn’t the type to fall for grand gestures. To win her back, I’d really have to mean it. I’d have to do something really, really drastic to show her just how much I’d changed, and I’d have to make sure she understood that there was no going back. It hurt my chest to think about her rejecting me, but I still thought there was a slim chance I’d be able to get her back. After all, I loved her, and love conquered all, right?

Archie

“I’m worried about Michelle,” I said as I leaned back in my chair. Sandy looked at me with her usual blend of interest and concern, and a worried pinch creased her heart-shaped face.
 

“Why?” Sandy asked. She took my hand and squeezed it, raising it to her mouth and kissing it. I smiled. It was hard not to smile around Sandy. She was absolutely incredible, and someone I couldn’t believe I got to spend my whole life with. It was strange to have fallen so deeply in love later in life, but I was grateful for the second chance.

“She’s not acting like herself,” I replied. Sandy smiled at me in encouragement and I cleared my throat. Talking about myself—and anything in my private life—had always been difficult, but Sandy was more than encouraging.

“Archie,” Sandy said, squeezing my hand again. “Whatever do you think happened?”

I frowned. “I know there’s something,” I said, rubbing my chin with my hand. “But she’s never going to talk to me about it.”

“She might,” Sandy offered. She gazed into my eyes and I felt a shiver of happiness. “She’s still young. Young people need their parents.”

“I don’t feel like Michelle has ever needed me,” I said, shaking my head. “She’s always been so independent and fierce.”

“She has,” Sandy agreed. “But she’s softhearted. Look at how tongue-tied she feels around Dom, just because she’s always had that crush on him. And he’s a rascal!” Sandy laughed and looked at the ceiling. I frowned. Her son Domenic was…something else. It wasn’t easy to imagine Domenic and my Michelle ever getting along; Michelle was just so pragmatic and smart. And even though Domenic was supposedly ‘reformed,’ I had a feeling that he would still cause a lot of heartbreak. Secretly, I hoped he would move out soon. I may not have been too old to fall in love a second time, but I was far too old to deal with crying women running out of my house at 5 a.m.

“So what do you think happened?” I asked, clearing my throat. Sandy looked away.

“I’m not sure, Arch,” she replied. She squeezed my hand. “But my little Domenic was such a Casanova in high school that I feel as though they had a flirtation.”

I shook my head. “Don’t be ridiculous, honey. Michelle spent so much time studying that she never even had any friends. She never went out to parties or socialized. She was a good girl.”

Sandy sighed and rubbed my hand with her thumb. “Whatever you say, honey.”

***

Michelle

That weekend, Eric and I moved into an apartment together off campus. He’d found it posted on some bulletin board and within a few hours, it was all ours. I was skeptical about living in some place that we hadn’t even seen, but Eric was convinced that it would be a little paradise. We pulled up to the correct address to see a funky little brick apartment building, with all of the windows decorated with Christmas lights. There was a strong skunky smell in the air; I could feel it already giving me a headache.

“Which room do you want?” Eric asked me as we bounded up the stairs.

“The quieter one,” I snarked, rolling my eyes at him. The inside of the building was gorgeous, it was all restored historic woodwork and marble. The ceilings were pockmarked with bits of plaster—I guessed that in another life it had been gilded.

“This is so cute!” Eric gushed as we hauled our stuff inside. I only had the suitcase from the plane, but Eric had showed up with a whole car’s worth of stuff. Mentally, I started thinking about how to ask my dad to send the rest of my stuff out to California. I still hadn’t contacted him or Sandy and told them that I’d decided to stay here. I knew that putting off the conversation would only create more drama, but I couldn’t handle the idea of talking to either one of them right now.

The room I picked was upstairs, with a big bay window and its own bathroom. I loved Eric, but I also loved my space, and I wasn’t used to living alone. Living with Dom for a few days in my dad’s house had taught me that.

“When are you gonna tell your folks about what happened?” Eric knocked me out of my reverie as he sat down next to me, gnawing on an apple. He offered me a bite but I shook my head ‘no.’

“I’m not,” I said glumly as I stared out the window. Across the street, I saw some people about our age hauling a cooler inside. Someone cheered and then there was a lot of laughter. I felt jealous, not necessarily because I wanted to go to a party, but because they seemed like they were having fun. If I couldn’t get Dom out of my head now, why did I even bother coming here in the first place?
 

“Honeybee, you need to!” Eric chirped, wrapping an arm around me. The physical contact felt good, and he smelled nice. Not as manly as Dom, but nice. “If you don’t spill, your dad will never know! Dom will be welcome in that house any time you go home.”

“I know,” I said, feeling exasperated. “But I can’t tell him! It’s so embarrassing; he’d hate me! I don’t even want him to know if I’m having sex with someone who isn’t related to him by marriage!” I felt my face redden.
I’m a freak,
I thought.
Normal women don’t want to fuck their stepbrothers.

Eric shook his head. “I know it would be hard,” he sympathized. “I wouldn’t tell my dad unless things were really bad. But, Michelle, things
are
really bad. You have to tell him!”

“I can’t,” I said flatly. “Please stop pestering me about it. You’re supposed to be my friend and my ally, not making me feel even worse about the situation!”

“I am your friend,” Eric said, clearly softening. “But this is really important, babe. You should tell him for the sake of your own health. Don’t worry about Dom and what that jackass thinks of you.”

“I can’t help it,” I admitted. A tear fell down my cheek and I wiped at it hastily with the back of my hand. “He’s in my head all the time. No matter what I do, he won’t leave. He always has been.”

Eric leaned back and appraised me cautiously. “You need to get over him,” he said flatly. “I can’t sugarcoat it anymore. He’s dangerous, Michelle. He abused your body and your trust, and he’s still in a position of power over you.”

“He’s not,” I insisted, feeling dumb. Eric looked at me with his eyebrows raised. “Okay, maybe a little,” I admitted. “But he never meant to hurt me.”

Eric shook his head. “It doesn’t matter whether or not he meant to, babe. He did, and he used you, and now you hate yourself. You want to not hate yourself? You’ve got to respect yourself enough to only go out with people who also respect you.”

“Whatever,” I replied, bored with this conversation. I knew Eric only had good intentions, but the way he called Dom out made me feel like a shitty person. It wasn’t like I’d known that Dom was going to hurt me again, or do the same thing. I hadn’t exactly figured that we’d be spending our week together in a torrent of sexually charged activity. But all the same, this little voice in the back of my head kept telling me that Eric probably wasn’t entirely wrong. I mean, if it was that obvious to an outsider, how wrong could he be?

“This is why we’ve got to throw ourselves a party,” Eric was saying. I think he’d been talking for longer and I just hadn’t been listening, but the mention of a party snapped me out of my daze. “It’ll be great,” he assured me. “You’ll have a great time.”

“I don’t know,” I warned. “We just moved here. How many people are going to go to a stranger’s party?”

Eric leaned over me and peeked out the window, bending the blinds with his fingers. “Oh, trust me,” he said under his breath. “We’ll have people begging to get in.”

A few hours later, the house was packed. I couldn’t believe it; Eric had been right. He’d sauntered outside and walked over to the neighbors, telling them that we were going to have a party and asking if they wouldn’t mind a little extra noise. After he’d told every house on the block the same thing, we had people coming in droves. The neighbors from next door came over with a huge cooler of beer and some joints. Soon, there were people in every room and it was boiling hot and steamy inside. I went around opening the windows and shooing people away from our still-packed suitcases and boxes. There were some hippie-looking people hanging out in the living room and I watched with a wary gaze as they combed through Eric’s backpack that he had left there. One of them spotted me and held out his hand.

“I’m Rick,” he said, pumping my arm firmly up and down as we shook. I narrowed my eyes at him.

“Do you always go through other peoples’ backpacks?” I asked, scrutinizing his face. Someone passed Rick a joint and he deeply inhaled before coughing clouds of smoke all over my face. It smelled sour and I screwed up my face, willing myself not to cough.

“Sorry.” Rick grinned and fanned the air. “And no, dude, but this was right here,” he pointed to it. “Probably not a good idea to leave that one laying around.” He fished something out of his pocket and handed it off to me. “Seriously, there was a wallet in there!”