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She takes a shaky breath. “He…he gave me detention and…” My jaw clenches as I wait for her to keep going. “He made me sit at his desk to do homework. On…on his lap.”
My breath shortens and my teeth clash together.
“I was confused,” she cries. “I knew it wasn’t normal, but I didn’t want to get into more trouble. I was scared. He made me write lines, and they said…they said girls who talk get hurt.”
She breaks into a loud cry. “Girls who talk get hurt,” she repeats. “I didn’t want to get hurt. So I kept writing in silence. And I let him put his…his f-fingers…but maybe he didn’t! I think he did…I don’t know!” She chokes on another sob, and I wrap my arms around her back, pressing her to my chest.
“Shh, it’s okay.” I caress her hair and hold her tightly. “I believe you, Haley. If you say he did then I believe you.”
She cries against me, and I calm her down with soft words and touches.
But nothing calms me down.
The moment I smell something burning, I push away from her. “Go sit on the sofa.”
I go back to the omelet, not caring that a whole side is completely burnt.
From the corner of my eyes, I watch her hop off the counter and go to the sofa. I finish the omelet and join her, but everything inside me is frozen.
What makes me different from that man?
“One burnt omelet for Haley Stewart.” I fake a smile as I put the plate and cutlery on the small table in front of the sofa.
She looks up at me as I stand there, watching her.
“Roman.” Her tone is desperate, her voice hoarse. “I know what you’re thinking.”
“What am I thinking?” I take a step back, trying to stay away from her.
“What we did, I wanted it. It’s different.”
My jaw clenches as I shake my head. I cross my arms and look away. “How could you possibly know? You’re a student. You’re vulnerable. I abused my power over you.”
“I know how I feel about you. It’s not the same. I know.”
I look at her, at the hope in her eyes. Her soft features call to me. I run my fingers through my dark strands and shake my head.
“This isn’t about you, Roman. It’s about me. It’s about being able to make a choice as to whether I want someone to touch me or not. I want you to touch me.”
At her last words, my cock wakes up. It’s instant, the boner practically painful. Her eyes light up and she giggles. “I think you agree.”
“Shut up and eat your food,” I growl as I join her on the sofa.
With a huge smile on her face, she digs into her food. “Yum, best burnt omelet I’ve ever had.”
I grunt as I let my head fall against the cushion. She eats in silence for a while, and I let her. Until I can’t stop the thoughts in my head anymore. I straighten up and look at her.
“What was his name?”
She turns to me, chewing on a mouthful of omelet. “What?”
“His name, Haley. What was it?”
She gulps and her brows furrow. “W-why do you ask?”
“Just stop being stubborn for once and answer the question.”
“I’m not telling you his name. You sound like you’re going to kill him.”
