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"You ready?" Domenic asks for the millonth time

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"You ready?" Domenic asks for the millonth time.

 I let out a frustrated sigh and set down my brush, noticing that my curls are falling flat despite my efforts. 

If they keep doing this, then I'm going to need my hair redone next week.

Which isn't a problem, because I love getting my hair redone.

Taking them out is the process that irritates me.

"Of course I'm ready," I tell him, securing a silver hair clip on the side of my head before turning to face the vanity mirror.

He doesn't say anything, but his stressful energy fills the room. 

I can feel it weighing down on me, making me anxious too.

He looks at me with confusion in his eyes. 

I lean in and place a kiss on each of his palms, leaving behind a red mark from my lipstick.

Finally, a smile appeared on his face.

That's what I wanted– to see him happy.

 Seeing him stressed out gives me stress too. 

But it's not only about wanting him to be happy, it's also about wanting to have a good relationship with his sister.

After all, I'm the person that's having dinner with her, and a tiny part of me worries that she might be like his mother– controlling, judgmental, and impossible to please. 

But I push those thoughts away.

Domenic wouldn't keep in contact with someone like that.

I hold onto his hands and look into his worried eyes. "This is your sister, not your mother," I reassure. 

He nods, a small smile appearing on his face, and I can see the relief in his body language as he sits up straighter on the bed. 

"She's alot nicer than your mother, right?" I tease, trying to lighten the mood.

He laughs, but I can still see the small hint of worry in his expression. "Definitely," he nods," she means a lot to me."

"In fact, she's really excited to meet you," he tells me with a smile.

 "Which seriously scares me," he adds jokingly.

My eyebrows furrow in confusion. 

"Why?" I ask. 

I stand up and start rummaging through my clothes, looking for the perfect outfit.

"Scared she'll let me in on some trade secrets," I joke.

He rolls his eyes playfully before leaning back onto his palms. "Actually, I'm scared you'll become her best friend," he admits with a hint of teasing in his voice.

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