Page 35 of Too Sweet
Disappointment floods my system, settling deep in my gut. For a moment, I thought he could be interested in me, but that ship sailed. Even if he didn’t mind the ten-year age gap, I’m not the type he goes for. He likes short skirts, big boobs, and glamorous makeup.
I don’t fit him. Not in the slightest.
He’s a predator. Tall, broad, strong. Everything about him screamstestosterone: from his smell, style, and stance right down to his voice.He’s rough around the edges, his chin peppered with two-day stubble, eyes framed by thick eyebrows. Tattoos mark every inch of his upper body... and I’m like that girl fromA Walk to RememberAisha compares me to. Small, spineless.
I wish I could be more like my sister—outgoing and unafraid to act on my desires—because I’ve never felt so overwhelmed in a man’s presence.
Maybe if I had the guts to seize the opportunity, he wouldn’t be watching me like he can’t wait for the ride to be over.
“Do me a favor and stay away from my brothers,” he clips, pushing a long calming breath down his nose. “They don’t need problems, and that’s all you’ll bring.”
I stare at the back of the driver’s seat, my chest constricting again. He’s not wrong. The triplets get into pointless fights on my behalf, no matter how much I beg them not to. It takes as little as some guys calling meweirdto set them off.
“You won’t talk to me now?” Nico asks, his voice dripping with annoyance. “Very fucking mature.”
My nails bite into the palms of my hands. “Why are you acting like this? I didn’t do anything wrong. I—”
“You let the guy touch you! You didn’tstop him, but youdidlook at me for help. I’ve dealt with girls like you before. I lived through this shit. It doesn’t end well.”
“I didn’t mean to look at you. I didn’t need help,” I force the words past my lips, though all I want to do is tuck and roll out of the moving cab. “I was looking for Aisha so she’d wait with me outside, and... I didn’t let him touch me, Nico,” I whisper the last part, not trusting my voice anymore. “I pushed him away. I just needed a moment to—”
“Towhat? Get enough attention on you? Maybe you didn’t let him, but you sure didn’t fucking stop him.”
God, why is defending myself so difficult? It shouldn’t be. I did nothing wrong, but thanks to Nico’s attitude, guilt sprouts in my stomach, making me feel so,sosmall. I should react faster. I know I should... it’s just that if I make one false move, I lose.
“It gets very noisy and overwhelming inside my head when I’m touched by someone I don’t want touching me,” I say.
The need to change his mind about me burns a hole in my chest. Or maybe the need to retaliate spurs me on.
It’s an odd, disturbing feeling. I’ve never gone down the eye-for-an-eye route before, always the one to give up, but Nico’s attitude awakens part of my character I didn’t know existed.
“Things resurface,” I continue, even though he probably already karate-chopped me dead in his mind and doesn’t give a damn about my excuses. “I get nauseous, panicky... I need a minute to get a hold of myself. A moment to push the panic down, assess my position, and find a way out.”
“It’s not rocket science, kid. You shove the fucker away, and you tell him not to touch you.”
I swallow hard, chancing a glance his way. “Stop calling me that. What did you say when you taught me self-defense? That I should stay calm because fear will choke me, correct?”
His jaw ticks, but he bobs his head once.
“That’s what I do.” I glance out the window, watching as we exit the town center. “Do you know how I met your brothers?”
Nico huffs quietly, either losing his patience or growing bored. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“More than you’ll ever understand. We may have been at the same schools since kindergarten, but we never talked until last year atQ. That night,I did what you said I should’ve done today. I pushed a guy away.” I adjust myself in the seat, toying with the hem of my skirt. “And then I kicked, screamed, and tried to fight him, even though I couldn’t hold my weight properly because of whatever he slipped in my drink.”
Nico doesn’t say a word, his unease betrayed by a nervous clenching and unclenching of both fists. I’ve got his undivided attention, and by the look of him, he knows where I’m going. He knows this story doesn’t end pretty. He probably heard about it from the triplets, Shawn, or maybe even the guy who ownedQatthe time.
“The harder I fought, the worse it got. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t see a way out because I panicked. For some reason, your brothers kept an eye on me that night. And it was only thanks to them that Asher didn’t get what he wanted. When Conor pulled him off me, he already had his hands under my skirt.”
I pinch my lips, tasting the salty tears silently escaping my eyes. I hate reliving that night. I hate the scar Asher left on my thigh when he caught his signet ring in my flesh, ripping it open. I still feel his hands on me sometimes, and wake up drenched in sweat at all hours of the night. I’m not ashamed of what happened, but it doesn’t mean I enjoy talking about it.
“So, yes,” I admit, wiping my face. “I didn’t push Justin away immediately. I took a moment to assess our position and check where I could hit if sayingnowouldn’t work.” The car halts outside my house, the driver as silent as Nico. “It’s not what you’d expect me to do, but I won’t apologize for keeping myself safe the only way I know how. It’s been a year, and so far, no one’s trapped me the way Asher did.” I unzip my bag, pulling my wallet out, but Nico covers my trembling hand with his.
“Look at me,” he rasps, his guilt swirling in the air like fine dust. “Please, baby...look.At. Me.”
I wipe my eyes once more, suppressing the agonizing need to let the tears run free. Faint heart never won the battle, and this is what it feels like. A battle to see who’ll come out on top. I might be weaker than a frail stem holding the weight of a sunflower blossom, but Iamholding it. I won’t let Nico reduce me to a pathetic, whimpering mess.
“You’re sorry, aren’t you? Sorry about what you said, how you acted, and sorry that Asher almost raped me.” I bite the inside of my cheek, meeting his haunted stare. “That’s nice, but I don’t need yoursorry. I don’t need your pity. It’s done. I could let it define me or use it to toughen up.” I take a fifty out of my wallet, passing it to the driver. “Can you wait a moment, please? I’ll be right back.”
