It was my senior prom. I did everything I could to make sure that night was all I had ever dreamed.
And it was.
I begged Mom for money to buy clothes for the after party. She refused, saying I’d already spent double what I should have on the dress and accessories that I’d already purchased. She wasn’t wrong. Everything I bought cost a fortune, but I wanted it to be just right. Mom can be a hard ass, though. Luckily, I’ve learned how to circumvent her over the years. I go to my father.
He always gives me what I want. Sometimes, I’m forced to turn on the waterworks a little, but looking just like my mother has its advantages. He rarely tells me no. I lied and told him that another girl had my dress, and now I needed to buy a new one. I cried telling him that Mom said I needed to wear the one I had because we’d already spent too much. Dad didn’t even blink when I told him I needed five hundred dollars. Okay, maybe he did stumble a little, but he gave in. He just made me promise not to tell Mom.
That more than worked for me because if Dad told her I needed a new dress, he would have discovered my lie. Plus, he would have found out that the prom dress I already had cost a cool grand. Mom took my credit card for the rest of the year when she found that out. She made me work in the damn kitchen of the club house to pay back the money. Dad was pissed at her, too. He gave her hell. That didn’t help because then Mom told him I’d ran up a three-thousand-dollar balance on my credit card for clothes—I needed more things than just a prom dress, people. He flipped his shit. Mom promised him that none of the men from the club would come into the kitchen while I was there, and he relented.
I knew he would. You see, Mom and Dad rarely fight. They love one another completely. The only time they argue is usually about me. I’m not proud of that, I suppose, but there’s not much I can do to change it.
I didn’t spend the money Dad gave me on a new dress. That’s crazy! I had “the” dress already. There was no way to top it. I used Dad’s money to buy sexy lingerie and get my hair done. I needed everything to be beyond perfection for Dom.
And it was.
We met at the prom—we didn’t go as a couple—and yes, that pissed me off, too. Dom refused because of his brother. I love Thomas. He treats me like a queen. He’d do anything in the world for me. I know he would—I’ve always known it. That’s probably why he doesn’t make my heart skip a beat.
Honestly, I just can’t see myself with Thomas, and I know it might be kinder if I just told him that—like I promised Dom I have. In my heart, I know that’s the only way he’ll stop mooning after me the way he does. It’s just…Okay, I know this sounds bitchy, but I would miss him. There’s something to be said about having a hot guy think the sun rises and sets on you.
I wish Dom was more like that. Still, if he was, I probably wouldn’t like him as much. Dom can be an asshole, and I like it—at least in the bedroom. He has that “I’m going to fuck you hard, leave you wanting more, and give it to you when I want,” vibe, and it works for him—like really works. He’s dangerous and hot. He makes me burn.
The two of us are like a wildfire together, and for a while, we were pretty hot and heavy. Sadly, it has cooled down some since Dom’s become so involved in his father’s club. When his focus turned from me to the club, it left me feeling more and more like I’d been forgotten. I suppose the fact our whole relationship is treated like a secret doesn’t help.
I jump through hoops for Dom, and I don’t like it. I do it because I don’t want to lose him, but I’m definitely not happy. It’s bullshit. Dom is used to people falling in line and doing what he tells them. While I don’t mind that in the bedroom, that’s not who I am.
I don’t really trust our relationship—I don’t really trust Dom. He’s around all those club girls constantly. He says he doesn’t do anything, that all he wants is me, but if that’s true, then why do I spend more and more time alone?
The truth is, Dom and I are growing further and further apart, and that terrifies me. I don’t want to lose him. When you’ve spent most of your life loving someone, you can’t let that go. If you do, that’s like admitting that you’ve wasted way too much time on the wrong man. I’m getting desperate, and Dom is about to force my hand. I won’t let him leave me. I can’t.