Page 19 of Sweet (Chicago Underground 7)
“Of course I know that. No one hurt me.” But something inside me kicked in its cage, clamoring to be free. There was a reason I had no idea what I was doing. A reason I’d never wanted to learn before now.
His expression was skeptical.
“He didn’t, okay? I’m telling you the truth. I agreed to everything.”
He turned away. “You don’t have to tell me what happened…or anything at all. You don’t owe me that.”
“But I want to. You think I’m messed up. Everyone thinks I’m messed up just because I had an abusive dad and lived in a group home. Well, let me tell you something. Dad didn’t much care about me, and neither did the people at the home. They didn’t mess me up because they weren’t around to do it.”
“Rose.” He looked pained, and I wanted to apologize for that, but the words were tumbling out of me, spilling over.
“He was my boyfriend, just a stupid sixteen-year-old like me. We were fooling around behind the gym. No big deal, right? It’s nothing.”
He reached for me then, pulling me into his arms and surrounding me in heat. It should have been awkward—body parts bared and still damp—but he held me too tight to care about any of that. He hugged me as if I were coming apart and he could keep me together. He held me as if he needed to.
My words were muffled against his chest now, and I wasn’t sure he could even understand them. Though maybe it was better that way. I wasn’t saying them for him to hear. I was saying them to myself, finally acknowledging that it mattered.
“I agreed to go back there with him, knowing what would happen. I agreed to have sex with him, and then we did. Then my boyfriend said his friend was right there keeping watch and he would tell everyone what I’d done if I didn’t…if I… I didn’t want Philip to find out. He would have—”
“Killed him.” The words vibrated through him, like maybe he agreed with the sentiment, like he could have committed murder in that moment too. Maybe he was less laid-back than I’d given him credit for, but then he had survived in this business for a long time. Long enough to get killed himself if he wasn’t careful and tough.
“Yes. He would have. So I did what he wanted. I lay there, and I took it, when I didn’t even know him.” A harsh laugh escaped me. “And I never complained when it happened again and again. I never told anyone until now. You have to understand, in the school I went to, that was normal. And everyone there was tough as nails. I’m not fragile, Drew. You don’t have to protect me from anything.”
But my words were a lie, because his whole body was curved around mine, taking the brunt of some unseen force. I was trembling, fearful, bearing the brunt as all the lies I had told myself began to unravel.
Chapter Seven
As awareness returned, mortification washed over me. He’d wanted to have a fun romp in the study, and here I was crying. I didn’t know how mindless affairs were done, but I could safely assume high school confessionals weren’t part of it.
I wiped at my tears. “You must be pissed.”
“You have no idea.”
I groaned, giving up any pretense of being cool and collected. “I’ve only been working toward this for years. It’s shocking I could mess it up this bad.”
“Well, I would have preferred to have known this before I made an ass out of myself, pushing myself on you before you were ready. But aside from that, I’d say you’re doing just fine.”
“How can you say that? I’m a grown woman. I don’t need to be rehashing stuff that happened in high school. Especially the kind of stuff that happens to everyone.”
“I don’t think that happened to everyone.”
“You know what I mean.”
“Yeah, I think I do. But the thing is, even if it were commonplace, which I don’t agree with, it still matters. It can still hurt.”
It did hurt: the shitty childhood and my initiation into sex at the hands of my jerk boyfriend and his friend. Pretending it didn’t matter hadn’t made it go away. Pretending it didn’t hurt hadn’t eased that ache. Everyone had a story, and this was mine.
I met his eyes. “So we’re okay, then? Even though that…didn’t go according to plan. We’re not finished. Right?”
“Of all the things you know about me, do you think I scare easily? Don’t worry. It gets better after the first time.”
“God, I hope so, because my first time kind of sucked.”
We shared a smile. Strange that I could joke about something that had haunted me for so long. There weren’t many men I could have done that with. But our quiet moment was interrupted by the sound of the door closing below. I sprang from his lap and darted for my clothes.
“Shit. Philip.”
I didn’t even want to think of what would happen if he found us with our pants off—in his study, of all places. I was halfway back into my jeans when Drew folded my hands in his.
