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Swallowing, my throat feels dry, making my eyes water. “I...I didn't let him in, Harper. He was on his way out when I got home,” I manage to say, the memory of him locking up my apartment fresh in my mind.
“Didn't you have your wasp spray and yell about the STDs?” Harper retorts, her arms folded in a defensive stance.
“What?” Julian looks completely baffled.
I shake my head and rub my temples, trying to fend off the growing headache. “It's nothing. I don't have STDs,” I assure him quickly, then glance at Harper before explaining. “Harper thinks if I'm ever attacked, I should spray the attacker's face with wasp spray and then yell that I have an STD. She believes it'll scare them off. She's just concerned about me taking the bus and walking to the stop,” I say, hoping Julian catches on.
I glare at Harper. “Plus, he wasn’t attacking me.” I declare, throwing my hands up like I'm surrendering.
“Hold up a second,” Julian cuts in, leveling an authoritative finger at me. “You’re riding the city bus?”
I scoot back in my seat, half-wishing the couch had some sort of magical feature that could just gulp me down and hide me from this conversation. Imagine the sales pitch: 'This couch comes with an emergency vanish feature for those oh-so-awkward moments.'
“Yep,” I admit to Julian, suddenly feeling the lack of a car in my life like a missing limb. But then, with a bit of a sheepish grin, I confess, “Navigating the Dallas highways is like being in Mario Cart; I swear someone with a twisted sense of humor dreamed them up. The bus is, you know,”
“No, I don’t know, Poppy,” Julian snaps back. His protective streak is making an appearance, and it’s kind of cute, which only makes me grin wider, earning me a sharper glare from those storm-cloud grey eyes. Totally adorable.
"That's right, Julian," Harper adds. "Lay it on thick. Punish her for her naivety. And you wonder why I've armed her to the teeth with wasp spray and deadbolts."
I narrow my eyes at Harper, wondering how she manages to steer every conversation toward innuendos. "You should add that to your resume, Harper, highly skilled at turning any moment into an embarrassment. I’m sure they’d offer you a raise for that skill."
“You’re not riding the bus anymore,” Julian declares, sitting up straighter. “I thought you were driving yourself this whole time. I had no idea you were walking to a bus stop alone, especially in the dark after work.”
“It's not too far, and I actually find walking kind of relaxing,” I try to reassure him. You both should be happy I am taking my cardio seriously." I try to joke, but no one laughs.It's a tough crowd.
“Well, you're going to have to find relaxation in other ways,” he growls, a low, resonating sound that sends a thrill through me.
My cheeks flush, but I try to hide it, especially with Harper in the room. She doesn't need any encouragement to steer this conversation into risqué territory.
“The key point is ‘being attacked.’ I've never been attacked,” I lie, the taste bitter in my mouth. “The maintenance man wasn’t attacking me, Harper. He said he was here to fix the recalled sprinklers and even had a paper with the recall and my name on it. Are we sure he wasn't just hired to help with the issue?”
“I don't care,” Harper shakes her head, turning to Julian with a mixture of distrust and frustration. “I don’t like it, Julian.”
"I don’t like it either. That’s why my uncle is checking into it," he replies as he steeples his fingers.
That look on Harper's face means she still isn’t satisfied. “Well, excuse me for not trusting a man to protect a woman. I'll take care of my best friend myself,” she declares staunchly. "Pussy protects pussy."
I groan.Here we go...
A knock on my door makes Harper and me jump. I reach for the throw pillow next to me.
Harper raises a groomed brow, “Are you going to pillow fight the intruder next time?”
“Enough, you've proved your point,” I sigh.
Julian stifles a laugh, then strides toward the door with an air of command.
“Who’s that?” Harper asks, eyeing me, “Where’s your wasp spray? It could be the man.”
“You know I’m a trained Delta Force, right? I don’t need wasp spray to protect my woman,” Julian shoots back as he reaches the door.
His woman. Why is that such a turn-on? Julian speaks it with love and respect, while Andrew, my ex, spoke without any. This is what it's like to be respected, cared for, and not used. Unlike last time, when I was violated, now I have two people in my corner fighting for me. I don’t have to battle this alone. Julian and Harper are going to stand by me.
We’re often told that we should fight our own battles and be our own heroes. Sometimes, we should. Other times, we shouldn’t. You can’t win a war with one soldier. You need an army, and I’m staring at mine. It makes a tear fall from my eye.
I watch Harper, with a balled fist, speed walk to Julian, who is almost at my front door. She spots the wasp spray on the table next to the door and grabs it as he grabs the door knob. Harper, with the wasp spray in hand, raises its eye level at the person on the other side of the door.
“Oh, for fucks sake, you have got to be kidding me.” Harper groans, still holding the wasp spray high.
