Page 222 of Always Love You More
“He said some things …”
“Some things? What things?” he forces out, his voice dangerously low.
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Oh, it fucking matters.”
“He … um … he said he wanted cream and sugar and that he bet I gave good sugar … and then my mouth …”
“Yourmouth?” he asks slowly. “What’d he say about your mouth?”
“I snapped back at him—”
“Good,” Jameon cuts in.
“And then he said I have a mouth on me and he liked that.” I clear my throat. “That it made him want to find out what else I could do with it.”
“I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
“Jamie …”
“Is that everything?”
“What?”
“Is that all he did? All he said?”
I debate not telling him, worried about how he’ll react. But I promised I’d tell him if anyone hurt me.
“You can’t freak out.”
“What’d he do?”
I hear the car engine start.
“Baby,” he pushes. “Someone fucked with you, so I’m gonna fuck with them. Now tell me.”
“He … he tried to put his hand up my skirt.”
“I’m gonna kill him.”
“No. No, Jamie, you can’t kill him.”
“Hetouchedyou. Put his hand up—”
“I know,” I snap. “Fuck, I know, but you can’t—”
“Then I’m gonna beat the shit out of him.”
This isn’t the first time Jameson has stopped by the diner because of an incident like this, but it’s never been this bad. Nobody has ever gone this far. Said things yes, but never touched me.
“That’s the least he deserves,” Jameson adds.
I don’t respond.
Seconds pass before he asks, “Are you okay?”
“I’ll be fine,” I breathe. “But I should get back inside. I just kinda ran out on my shift.”
