Bad Boy Dom by Ellen Harper Page A

happy about me being here at the same time as you, but I thought it would somehow be easier if everything actually looked like it belonged here. I know that it drives you crazy to be surrounded by boxes. That’s why I wanted you to leave. Well, that and so I could hunt for that picture.” He pointed to the photo of me pinned to his easel. “That took some time.”
     
    “I bet,” I said dryly, taking a last look at Younger Michelle before turning and walking out of the room. “Thanks for unpacking, though. You’re right; it is helpful.”
     
    “I thought you would appreciate it,” he finished, looking at me. I suddenly realized how uncomfortable he looked; it was almost as though he was asking for my approval. The thought was a weird one, and I wasn’t sure I had ever felt that way before aside from brief flashes during our youth.
     
    “So are you and your date from the wedding; are you serious?” I asked, leaning against the doorway. The wooden frame cut into my back, but I didn’t move, wanting to look as casual as possible. Dom shook his head for a fraction of a second.
     
    “Nope,” he replied, matching my casual tone. “We’re definitely not, and I don’t think I’ll be going out with her again.”
     
    “Ah,” I said, nodding. He didn’t offer any elaboration and I didn’t ask. Even though I was still raging with conflict inside, I couldn’t deny that being around him was making me think again of that awful dream. I hoped I wouldn’t have it again tonight; I wouldn’t be able to look him in the face for the rest of the time we were staying together.
     
    Dom pursed his lips, clearing his throat. “Hey Michelle,” he started, sounding almost nervous. “Do you have plans for the rest of the evening?”
     
    “Uh,” I stammered, looking down. “No, I don’t.”
     
    “Do you want to hang out?” He tried, looking at me with an unreadable expression. “We can drink—legally this time, and watch a movie.”
     
    “I can’t get too drunk,” I replied, shaking my head. “I have to finish my med school application essays in the morning.”
     
    “Hey, why don’t I help you?”
     
    I looked at him blankly. “Are you a writer now, too?”
     
    Dom laughed. “No, I mean, how about you read it to me and then I tell you what I think? It might help a little bit to hear things out loud, sometimes then you realize you need to change something.”
     
    I pursed my lips. “I don’t know,” I hesitated. “It’s kind of personal.”
     
    “Come on,” Dom pleaded. “I told you everything about me.”
     
    “Not really.” I narrowed my eyes. “You made a really general apology for years of bad behavior.”
     
    “If you want to hear about more ways I fucked up, we can go into that,” he said lazily, looking at me with a cocky grin on his face. I rolled my eyes; I knew it wouldn’t take long for Arrogant Dom to re-emerge. I stared at him until he wiped the smile off of his face and looked at me sincerely.

“If you really want to hear it, I’ll read it to you,” I offered, kicking at the wooden doorframe with my bare toes. “But you can’t laugh.”
     
    “But what if it’s funny?” Dom asked, grinning at me. Ugh! I wish I could punch him!
     
    Twenty minutes later, we were in the living room. I cleared my throat and pulled my laptop on my lap.
     
    “Why I want to go to medical school,” I started reading. “Or why my dad is my hero.” I gazed up at Dom, expecting to see him smirking at how sappy that line was, but he was straight-faced, waiting for me to continue. “My mom died giving birth to me, and for a long time, I didn’t understand what a ‘mom’ was. My friends had them; they were pretty ladies who would make us lunch and help us play dolls. My best friend, Amelia, acted like her mom was her best friend and her older sister. I was so jealous; I couldn’t imagine what it would be like to be so close to my mom. My dad had a sister, my Aunt Amy, but I only