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“What’s wrong?” I asked as he got rid of his jacket and stepped into the room. He ran his fingers through his brown hair as he leaned against the back of the couch.
“Mike’s daughter, Zoey, got hurt at school today. She broke her arm and sprained an ankle.”
“Oh my god, is she okay?”
Scott nodded, his lips pressed together. “They’re at the hospital right now.”
“Maybe we could...sorry, I mean you could visit tomorrow?”
Scott shook his head, a slight pout forming on his lips. “Rochelle, Mike’s wife, still wants me to go hiking. She’s threatening me with no desserts for a year if I don’t go. Says I’m working too hard and need to relax.” He rolled his eyes as if what Rochelle had said made no sense.
“Well, she isn’t wrong,” I commented.
Scott’s eyes narrowed at me for a second before they widened in his best impression of puppy eyes. “Will you come with me, Luke?”
“What?” I asked, sure I’d heard wrong.
“I mean, if you haven’t made any plans, will you go on this trip with me? The trails are pretty good, and the weather too. It’ll be a lot of fun. Please?”
I wanted to—God, I so wanted to. But I wasn’t good with new places. Plus, could I really share a tiny cabin with another man without freaking out, even if I trusted said man implicitly?
My traitor brain immediately reminded me of that one timehehad taken me on a vacation trip, as if the two men could be similar in any fucking way.
“Isn’t this place gorgeous?” he asked, and I looked around the strip of private beach and nodded. We’d been dating for just over eight months, and it’d been the most beautiful eight months of my life. He took such good care of me, and I was so grateful he’d found me.
That night, he took me to a club, and we drank and danced and drank so much more. I was so drunk by the time he pulled me away from the bar that I couldn’t see straight. That was when he took me to a room at the back of the club, where a couple of men sat around on couches, staring at me in a way that made me shudder.
“What’s going on?” My voice was slurred, but I was aware enough to know the kind of men they were. The kind I’d avoided at all costs when I’d lived on the streets. It was when I turned to look at him that I realized he was like them too. I just hadn’t seen it before.
That night, he made meservicethem all before I passed out from exhaustion. The next morning, I woke up in the beach house with a sore throat, a blinding headache, and the realization that I’d been a naive idiot to think he'd saved me.
“Luke?” Scott’s voice pulled me out of my memories, and I swallowed hard. It took me a few moments to control the nausea the memory had stirred up and another few to remember what Scott had asked me. “I’m sorry. I can’t.”
Before he could say anything, I turned around and walked to my room as steadily as I could. Once I was in, I closed the door behind me and rushed to the bathroom. I leaned against the sink, turned on the tap, and dunked as much of my head under it as I could. I let the cold water wash away the sweat and the anxiety that was crawling up inside me. I closed my eyes and tried to control my breathing.
Scott wasn’thim.Scott was warm, kind, handsome, andnothinglike the man who’d broken me. Then why had I said no? Why couldn’t I just trust him? Iknewhe’d never hurt me. Then why couldn’t I go with him? What was stopping me?
I realized I needed to talk to someone—someone who would help me straighten out the mess in my head—and pulled out my phone from my back pocket, glad I’d stuffed it there when Scott had arrived.
Me:Scott invited me to a weekend hiking trip with him. Should I go?
Angrie:Do you want to go?
Me:Yes.
Angrie:Do you trust him?
Me:Yes.
Angrie:Then why the fuck are you asking me?
I chuckled at her sheer Angie-ness and thanked God for giving me a friend who knew exactly how to deal with me as I tapped in a reply.
Me:Because you give me perspective, sweetie pie.
Angrie:Grrrr.
Angrie:Text/Call me if you start freaking out again. Now go tell him you’re going.
