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“Cool, well, I just need to—” I pointed to the ladies’ room. “You know what, though?” I paused as a sudden thought hit me. “I have to tell you something.”
His brows shot up in interest. “Yeah?”
“Adam has a lot to lose, being on parole. He can’t afford to do anything stupid.”
One brow came down in confusion. “Okay...”
“So maybe don’t ask him to do your dirty work, CJ,” I said. “Let him stay aboveboard.”
His hand was on my hip as he simultaneously moved me forward and walked past me in the small hallway, brushing against me in the process. “Uh... yeah,” he said, his tone questioning. “Sure thing?”
“CJ, quit getting handsy.”
It was Andromeda from behind me, shoving at him. He laughed and waved her off, but I was in a full sweat. Not from his words but from his proximity. His touch.
“I’m—”
“You okay?” she asked, peering down into my face without one finger on me.
I shook my head. “I think I’m losing my shit.”
She pointed at the restroom door and we walked in, the music muffling as the door closed behind us. Andromeda stood a full head or more over me, like a stunning, redheaded Amazon warrior princess in a fake leather dress.
“You were attacked a couple of months ago, right?” she asked bluntly.
I blinked and nodded, weary of the topic. “But that—”
“Means everything.”
Her tone startled me. I frowned up at her. “What?”
I watched her jaw tighten as she licked her lips and blinked rapidly. She took a deep breath and looked at me with laser focus. “You were invaded. Sexual or not, you were assaulted and your sense of security, self-esteem, and belief in yourself was ripped from you.”
I inhaled a shaky breath and nodded, forcing my chin up so I didn’t crumble.
She nodded, too.
“That’s gonna be with you for a while,” she whispered. “In every face, every hand that touches you, every body that brushes against you.” She nodded again, her eyes misty. “It sticks for a minute. Give yourself permission to despise it because you deserve that. Nothing’s wrong with you.”
I swallowed hard. “You?”
Her bright-green eyes glazed over, and she blinked the tears free, whisking them from her perfectly made-up face. “Raped when I was seventeen by my best friend,” she said. “A guy I’d have given my left kidney to if he needed it. He was wasted and I drove him home, and then he turned on me on his front fucking porch. But it was okay because he was drunk and didn’t know what he was doing.”
“Oh, God,” I breathed.
She shook her head. “It’ll never be okay, and it’ll never be okay for you, but you have to be kind to yourself first. You didn’t let it happen. Quit beating yourself up for it.”
I pointed at the door. “But you heard Beth. We’ve been taking this class over in Restin for a damn year. Why didn’t I defend myself? Ugh!” I turned and paced the tiles. “I can’t even remember if I did or not. But evidently not enough. What the fuck good is a class like that if I didn’t use it when I needed it?”
“Then do something about it,” she said, crossing her arms. “Instead of feeling like this, turn it around. Take a defense class—a real defense class that real people can do—then pay it forward.”
I backed up a step. “Like teach it?”
She shrugged. “Something saying you can’t?”
I frowned and opened my mouth, then closed it again. “No.”
She held both hands out in front of her. “Boom. Now I need another drink, so do you really need to pee?”
