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She lifted her head, meeting my gaze. “He didn’t.”
I didn’t know how I was still standing. How could I be when my chest had collapsed?
“He flirted with me, and I thought he was the hottest guy ever, so when he gave me a drink, I took it. Didn’t think anything of it. Next thing I knew, I was in the shower, back in the dorm. My friends saved me, they took care of me. Without them…” She lifted a shoulder, not needing to finish that sentence.
“Gemma, I…” Speechless, I held out my arms. I wanted to comfort her, give her some security, but I needed it too. I had to know she was okay. “Can I give you a hug?”
After a long moment, she sank into my arms, though she kept her own clasped together in front of her chest. I didn’t mind. “I’m so sorry,” I murmured against her hair. “I don’t know what else to say besides it’s awful and happens far too often. I’m just so fucking grateful it turned out the way it did, and I’m sorry it happened to you.”
She tipped her head up, resting her chin on my chest. “I didn’t mean to—”
“No, don’t.” I was slow to release her, but let her go nonetheless. “If you’re about to apologize or rationalize you being upset with me, don’t. I get it, and I get why you might think I’m an asshole. We blond-haired, blue-eyed white guys all kinda look alike.”
At that, she placed her hand over her mouth, but I could still see the curve of her smile between her fingers. “I don’t think you’re an asshole for how you look. I think you’re an asshole because you’re an asshole.”
I tossed my head back and laughed. “Okay, whatever you say.” Then, because I didn’t want to push her anymore, I turned around and walked out of the store. “See you round, Gemma.”
CHAPTERELEVEN
Gem
After Jason left Bare Necessities, I was pretty much done and spent the rest of the shift in the back room, texting the girls, filling them in on Bridget. His friend.
Bronte wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt.
Sam told me to forget about him.
Laney suggested I go home, open up a bottle of wine, and put my feet up. Which was exactly what I planned on doing.
I closed my apartment door and leaned against it, sinking down to the floor, emotionally and physically wrung out. It had been a long day, and I was exhausted. Exhausted from working all day, exhausted from my confession to Jason, exhausted from riding my bike home.
I seriously needed to scrounge up some money to buy a new car.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
“What?” I groaned, forcing myself to stand after a few moments in which I contemplated ignoring the knocking completely and hiding under the blanket on the sofa until whoever it was left. I unlocked the door and was greeted by my mom and Frank.
“That’s how you answer the door?” She let herself in. “What?”
“Yes, I’m good. How are you? Please, come in.” I motioned to the couch my mom had already taken a seat on. Frank patted my shoulder on the way in. “So,” I said, collecting a few pieces of dirty laundry and a used plate with a bit of peanut butter still on it. “What brings you two over to my neck of the woods?”
“We wanted to talk to you,” Mom said, reaching for my hand.
“Oh.” I sat on the coffee table in front of her. “’Kay.”
“Frank and I were talking. Now, don’t get mad.”
Which, of course, immediately put me on edge, though at this point I didn’t have much gas left in the tank. “I don’t have the energy to get mad.”
“Good.” She squeezed my hand then looked to her future husband.
“How long does it take you to get from here to your store?” Frank asked, his elbows on his knees with his hands folded between them.
“About half an hour, why?”
He tugged on his checkered shirt. “And most nights, you’re riding your bike home after dark?”
“Yeah.”
