“Are you okay?” he asks. “I’ll beat his ass.”
I shake my head. “It’s fine.”
“No, Thea, it’s really not. He shouldn’t get away with this.”
“He said, ‘my father can ruin anyone in this town,’” I say, using air quotes.
Graham rolls his eyes. “His dad is a good lawyer, I’ll give him that.”
“I just don’t want them to come after me or the diner because I turned him down.”
He shakes his head. “They have no reason to.”
I nod.
“Seriously, though, are you okay?”
“Yeah, just shaken up a bit. I just wanted him to like me.” Really, all I want to do is crawl into bed in the fetal position.
“You know I’d kick his ass for you, right?”
I look at him as he comes to a stop at a stop sign.
“I do now,” I say quietly, wondering why he would do that for me.
Graham adds, “You deserve more than just the bare minimum.”
We ride in silence the rest of the way. I see the living room lamp on through the window and know Beth is waiting for me. I don’t want to tell her about the night. I should have avoided this night entirely.
I meet Graham’s eyes as he parks the golf cart in the driveway. I take a shaky breath.
“Thanks, Graham,” I say as we sit there. There’s so much more that I want to say — to thank him for his friendship and for being my savior tonight but I can’t find the right words. My voice gets caught in my throat. He doesn’t ask any more questions. He doesn’t pry, and for that I’m grateful. I just want to put this night to rest.
“Any time,” he says softly.
I feel a lump forming in my throat and know that tears are coming.
“I, uh, better head inside,” I say as I hop out of the golf cart.
“See you later.”
I nod as I turn away and head up the porch steps. A tear escapes and I quickly wipe it away as I fumble with my keys in the lock and open the door. The golf cart rumbles to life as Graham backs down the driveway. I toss my keys onto the entryway table and kick off my shoes, not bothering to put them in the shoe rack.
“Hey,” Aunt Beth says, sticking her head out of the living room. “How was your date?”
I look up at her and her smile instantly fades.
“Thea, what’s wrong?” she asks.
I sniffle as I shake my head. “I shouldn’t have gone,” I mutter. “Raquel tried to warn me and I didn’t listen.”
“Come here.” She reaches for me and I follow her into the living room. She guides me to the couch and we sit down. She tucks her legs underneath her and leans against the back of the couch.
“Tell me everything,” she says.
“He picked me up on his motorcycle,” I begin. “I tried to get him to just walk, but he was adamant about the motorcycle.”
Aunt Beth nods slowly. “And it made you panic,” she finishes.
