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Zoe sure hadn’t liked that I hadn’t called her, but she didn’t have the high ground to be mad at me considering the emotional state I’d been in.
I knew well enough how insane it was that Jay’d had me followed, even though it resulted in me being saved from being raped. Beyond that, I did not need to be shamed for going to his house and staying there after I’d learned that he’d had me followed.
“Karson informed me of your interaction today,” Jay said, the baritone of his deep voice sending vibrations to my bones.
That got me, instantly pulling me back to reality. I should’ve been pissed off with him, not feeling relieved to hear my name come out of his mouth. “The interaction where you sent your lackey to retrieve me from a workout class expecting that I’d just drop everything to come to you? That interaction?” I snapped, taking a second gulp of wine. I figured I’d need a lot of it to get through this interaction.
I should’ve just ended the call, but hanging up wasn’t an option. Not after I’d heard his voice.
“That very one,” Jay agreed, not rising to the bait.
Not what I expected. I thought, for whatever reason, he’d be quick to anger. Get pissed off with a woman talking to him that way. Our first interaction gave me the impression that he was used to ordering women around, used to them obeying his orders.
“I don’t hear from you for almost a month, and then that?” I spat. “I don’t understand what you expect, what you want from me.”
“You do know what I want from you,” Jay replied. “I made it clear the first night we met. That hasn’t changed. I haven’t been in contact with you because, given the circumstances, pursuing anything would’ve been highly inappropriate. I wanted to give you time.”
Give me time.
Because trying to enter into a sex arrangement with the woman who’d almost been raped was in bad taste, I guessed. I really didn’t know how to feel about that. Nor did I know how to feel about the fact that he was right.
I considered myself a sexual person. I loved sex. My first experience had been sloppy, painful and quick. Not with a longtime boyfriend but with some guy in my grade who I’d thought was a good guy. He wasn’t, considering he went back to the party we’d snuck away from with my blood on his fingers, publicly declaring it as evidence that he’d popped my cherry.
Real charming guy.
Luckily, the next guy, my first real boyfriend, was better. He was older, twenty-four to my eighteen, working at a local mechanic’s, a friend of mine’s older brother. He gave me plenty of orgasms and was very willing to take instruction. A generally nice guy, and I missed him after I left Vern to go to college. I had plenty of boyfriends after him, a lot of great sex. And a healthy collection of vibrators.
But my vibrators had stayed in their drawer this past month, and I’d declined every single offer of any kind of date, no matter how handsome or sexy the man in question was. The mere thought of someone touching me made me want to retch. Reminded me of those clammy, unwanted hands on my panties. On my skin.
I hated that. Hated that that bastard had the power to take away sex from me. Made it feel dirty, violent and terrifying.
I’d resolved to say yes to a date the next time someone asked. To try and take that power back. But I already knew that I wouldn’t just let any man in. That it would take a long time for a man made me feel safe enough for any kind of intimacy.
There was only one man who had made me feel safe and not revolted by the prospect of sex, and I was talking to him on the phone.
“If it’s too soon for me to be calling, I understand,” Jay added after I’d been silent for a long time.
“It’s not too soon,” I blurted. It must’ve been the half glass of wine plus the two cocktails I’d had at Wren’s. She’d had a heavy hand with the vodka.
“I mean, I’m fine,” I continued. “But that doesn’t mean you can do things like send the man you had following me to retrieve me like a puppy. I understand that you’re extremely unconventional in the way that you interact with women, but that’s not how it’s done. I’m sure you like to think you know how we work, but women are offended when the man trying to get them in to some kind of arrangement can’t even bother to give her some attention.”
I smiled at myself for that speech.
“I gathered that,” Jay replied, still in the same tone. “Which is why I’m calling you now. To arrange dinner.”
