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I never thought maybe someone could do it to me. Or that it wouldn’t be in a club or at a party. It was done to me under the guise of friendship, late at night when I responded to a call for help.
It was these things that woke me before the sun even lightened the horizon. These things that had me reaching for my cell phone in the dark room. I knew trying to go back to sleep would be useless. My spinning thoughts would continue to ask questions and seek answers.
Roughly twenty-four percent of men experience some form of sexual violence in their lifetime. Over half of male victims are assaulted by someone they know.
I wasn’t raped. In truth, I didn’t understand why she roofied me. The drug didn’t make me erect or sexually excited. I was out of it, drowsy, and uncoordinated. Maybe she thought I would pass out and she coulddo things. Maybe she had no intention of having sex with me at all. Maybe she thought subduing and kissing me would be enough to make me want her.
Maybe she was simply out of her mind.
Beside me, Max shifted, and his arm fell over my side, pulling me into the circle of his body. I melted when his deep breathing brushed over my skin, and his soft stubble tickled my bare shoulder when he pressed a lazy kiss against my neck.
Moments later, he stiffened, his face lifting toward the lit screen on my phone. “What the hell are you googling?” His voice was gruff and still deep with sleep.
Lowering the phone facedown onto the bed, I glanced over my shoulder. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
He made a soft sound and rubbed a palm over my abs. “You can wake me anytime you want, baby.”
Despite my melancholy mood, I smiled and wiggled back to get more of him.
“You having trouble sleeping?” he asked.
“Mm.” I agreed.
“And you thought googling facts about male assault would help with that?”
I heard the disapproval in his voice, and it made my stomach tighten a bit. Not enough to pull away. Not enough for the comfort he gave to be ineffective. “I can’t stop thinking about it,” I confessed into the dark.
Palming my shoulder, Max tugged me around so I was flat on my back and staring up at his looming face. Even in the dark, he was the most attractive man I’d ever seen. I lay there for long moments, taking in the strong angles of his face, thick brows, and strong nose. I’d looked at Max thousands of times. I’d seen him change from a boy into a man. It would never be enough. He was and would always be my eyes’ favorite resting place.
“Wesley.”
His tone coupled with the use of my full name had me groaning. I started to turn my head, but he caught my chin, holding it in place so I couldn’t escape his piercing stare.
“I know you told the cops she didn’t do anything but kiss you…” He paused, the sound of his swallow filling the room. “But I need to know. Did she do more?”
My eyes rounded. The realization of what he must have been thinking sent a fresh rush of horror through my limbs. “No,” I said quickly, my hand gripping his bicep. “All she did was climb on top of me and kiss me.”
A low rumble vibrated his throat, the vibe around him turning icy.
Stroking over his bare arm, I said, “I can’t stop wondering why she did that. Why she went so far as to drug me. Would she have tried more if you hadn’t shown up? And Rinkin…” I shook my head, looking up to the ceiling. The inky darkness looming overhead made me think of something else. “There are no stars on your ceiling.”
“I’ll get you some.” He promised, brushing at the hair falling over my forehead. “I’ll get you as many as you want. You can plaster the entire room with them if you want.”
My eyes shifted back to him. “I love you.”
Everything about him relaxed. “I love you too.”
“I knew Rinkin hated me, but I thought maybe he’d stick to the truce. You know?” At my side, my fingers fiddled with the sheet. “I feel stupid. I should have known better. It’s not the first time someone hated me so much they wanted to do physical harm.”
“Look at me.”
There was no denying that voice, the command he had over everything I was.
“You are not responsible for other people’s shitbag actions. It is not your fault what they did, past or present. You went there to help her, and she took advantage of your heart. That’s her karma. Not yours.”
I thought it was sweet he was defending me. “You’re mad I went there.”
He made a rude noise. “Well, I ain’t fucking happy about it. Jesus, Wes. I’m going to have gray hair before I’m twenty-five because of you.”
