Page 30 of You Make Me Feel
ZF.
Romy takes the post-it from the book and reads it, her brows scrunched. “ZF,” she murmurs. A beat later she frowns. “Zach Fitzgerald took your book?” Disbelief colors her voice. “Like, actually stole it?”
I sigh and sink onto the stool behind the counter. “Yeah.” And it almost feels like a relief to be telling somebody about it. Like I’m not so alone. I know she won’t judge me. She’s based her podcasts on not being ashamed after all.
Even if I am ashamed. A little bit. My sexual confidence is obviously a work in progress.
Still, I tell her about Zach taking the book the other night, about him running after me and his hand curling around my wrist, and that low “I thought so,” that confused me until I realized exactly what he’d done.
When I get to yesterday, to our argument in my office, she frowns.
“He really challenged you to a race?” She presses her lips together.
“He really did.” I feel my cheeks blush. And now I’m thinking about him counting to ten again, dammit.
She looks at me, like she’s seeing me in a whole new light. “That’s… okay, yeah, that’s not great behavior. But also?—”
“Don’t,” I warn. “Donottell me this is romantic.”
She lifts her brows, all innocence. “I wasn’t going to. I was going to say it’s complicated. I mean, he’s clearly an asshole. But it’s also a little hot.”
I glare. “Romy.”
“What?” She shrugs, sipping her drink. “You’re allowed to have fantasies, Sadie. Everyone does. You think mine don’t get weird sometimes? Half of my podcast is menormalizing stuff women are too embarrassed to admit turns them on.”
I fold my arms. “It’s not the fantasy that bothers me. It’s him knowing it.”
Romy’s voice softens. “Then take it back. Own it. Fantasies aren’t shameful, they’re power. You decide who gets to touch them, and who doesn’t. That’s control.”
Her words hit something deep inside of me. I look away, pretending to rearrange a stack of bookmarks. “Yeah, well, right now I’d settle for controlling my temper.”
“Why should you control your temper?” she asks. “Because we were brought up to be good girls? Because society says it’s okay for a guy to be hot-headed but not a woman?” She wrinkles her nose. “Don’t let him take away your power.”
That reminds me. “Mylene loved your praise kink podcast by the way.”
Romy grins, momentarily distracted. “Ooh, what part?”
“The bit where she gets off listening to Hudson call Skyler a good girl.”
“Oops.” She grimaces. “She’s going to love the next one I have planned. It’s all about…” She shakes her head. “Sorry, let’s get back to you. So what are you going to do about this? How are you going to take your power back?”
“I’m not. He resigned from the committee. He apologized. It’s done.” But for some reason I feel worse. Like he thinks I’m some kind of delicate flower he’s damaged. And that’s somehow more annoying than him taking my book. Or challenging me to a race. At least then he was treating me as an equal.
I’m so, so tired of being treated like my words don’t count.
“You okay here?” I ask Romy. “I just need to go and do something.”
“Sure.” She nods, looking at me carefully.
I grab my keys from the counter. “Good. I won’t be long.”
She blinks. “Where are you going?”
“Out.” I pull my hair into a ponytail, my pulse beating fast and steady. “To get my power back.”
Romy’s mouth curves as she lifts her arm and gives the air a fist bump. “Of course you are. You go, girl, show the man what you’re made of.”
I ignore her grin, shoving open the door and stepping out into the bright morning. The sun’s too cheerful, the air too clean, but it doesn’t matter. I know exactly where I’m going.
