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I take a step back, shocked at her words. “So, he can feel you up, but driving you home is too intimate?” I’m nearly shouting in the deserted street.

She raises up to her full height, stepping toward me. “You think I enjoyed him feeling me up? You think I asked for it? You think I’m a whore, so of course, I just enjoy random men groping me in public? Is that it, Adam?” She’s shouting back at me, her hands gesturing along with her words. “Cool. Got it. Glad I finally know what you really think of me.” Her voice cracks at the end of her speech.

Her words sting my insides.

She flips around, facing the opposite direction of the dorms, and begins to march away, arms folded over her chest.

Was he playing me this entire time, and I was too naive to read into it?

My feet run toward her. I catch her, gripping her shoulders.

“Harley—” I plead.

She peers up at me, tears brimming her bright blue eyes. Her lip is quivering, causing my heart to shatter.

“He said you were…he made it seem like you were a thing…and then I saw him grab you, and you didn’t—you never pushed him away.” I’m stumbling over the words, trying to make sense of what I saw. “I watched, and I thought that…I thought that I was stupid for wanting to be more than friends if you were really with him. If you were going to sleep with him, which is what he told me,” I finish, tilting my head to the side and pleading with my eyes for her to understand my confusion and embarrassment.

Her mouth drops open, blue eyes wide.

“He said we would be…sleeping together?” she whispers the words. “He’s just a pervert that hits on me all the time. He never takes no for an answer…” She presses a hand against her forehead and closes her eyes.

I take another step toward her, craving the feel of her under my fingers.

“Okay, okay…I believe you. Why would you…why did you let him put his hands on you?” My teeth clench as I remember the act and how intrusive it was.

She scoffs, “LET HIM? Again, I will say, do you really think I enjoyed it or asked for his hands up my skirt?”

I close my eyes. “You could have—”

She cuts me off, throwing my hands off of her, “I did, Adam! As soon as I survived a panic attack, I came to my senses and slapped his cocky, smug face! You have no earthly idea what it’s like to be taken advantage of, to be used and touched and—and you just freeze up—and—and—”

She breaks off into a sob, sinking to the filthy sidewalk, her hand clamped over her mouth to muffle the sound.

I follow her down, gripping her shoulders and pulling her into my chest. I pray my touch is comforting, but I can’t just let her sit here, crying without consolation.

I reach under her knees, lifting her effortlessly into my arms. She immediately presses her face into my shoulder, the sobs shaking her body.

13

Harley

The feeling of being lifted into strong, muscular arms is euphoric. The scent of earth and cedar is overwhelming, and it reminds me of that rare sense of peace and security, which I’ve only ever had tiny glimpses of.

My body is being placed into the warm, comforting seat of his old pickup. The tears have subsided, so I wipe my cheeks with the backs of my hands. As I suck in several deep breaths, my heart rate slowly returns to normal.

The door closes, and another reopens, the vehicle shifting with his weight. The engine roars to life, loud and masculine. I open my eyes as he lifts me up again, shifting me over to sit next to him, his arm around me.

“Careful. I might get used to this,” I mumble, resting my head against his shoulder.

He sighs. “Please do. I want nothing more.”

He removes his arm to shift the gear into drive. I feel a chill on the skin he vacated.

“Where are we going?” I ask. My cheek on his warm shoulder is heavenly.

“I wanna take you somewhere.” His voice is steady.

I reach my hand up to loop it under his elbow, resting it on his thigh. He tenses up momentarily before relaxing into my touch. I get the sense he’s never sat so intimately with a girl.

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