Our roles seemed to have reversed, because I couldn’t speak. He was supposed to be the quiet one, and I was supposed to act brave. I shook my head.
“I could understand you wanting to do better than me, but why would you pick that fucker over me?”
“It wasn’t like…that.” Not exactly and not for the reasons he thought.
When I didn’t elaborate, he sighed. “Are you sure you’re not hurt?”
“No. I’m fine.” If I kept saying it, maybe it would be true. But my breath was coming more rapidly. “I just want to leave, okay? Just go.”
“Allie, stop.”
“I said go. Leave me alone. I know you want to, so do it!” My words bounced off the brick walls, making his seem unnaturally quiet.
“I’m not leaving you.”
Unable to face the intensity of his stare, I looked down, only to feel a warm, strong body encase me. I stiffened only a moment before relaxing into his arms, because I could only fight myself for so long. Safe. His chest hair tickled my face, but I rubbed my cheek across it like a cat leaving her scent.
After a few minutes Colin led me to his truck and bundled me in like I did for Bailey, snug and secure. We left the club and my car behind, driving toward my apartment without me having to give directions. The light from the streetlamps only served to make the dark roads more intimate, as if we were the only ones in the city.
It was the perfect mood for confessions, not that I wanted to make any. “How did you know where to find me?”
“The bartender.”
I pondered that for a minute. “That guy. The one who… He seemed really scared of you.”
A pause. “He just didn’t want any trouble.”
“It kind of seemed like he knew you.”
He shrugged, keeping his eyes on the road. “I’m a mean son of a bitch.”
“You’re not mean, Colin. You’re a good guy.”
He smiled faintly. We drove the rest of the way in silence. Despite its inauspicious ending, the whole encounter accomplished what I’d needed. I felt relaxed, sleepy almost.
Even though he’d come home with me, I hadn’t expected he would want to have sex. In fact, I would have thought he wouldn’t, either out of disgust at what he’d seen earlier or a misguided sense of chivalry.
So I was surprised when Colin led me to my bedroom and kissed me, just a touch of his lips to mine. His hardness pressed against my stomach, announcing his purpose. My feelings were a jumble, but I wanted to give him something. A thank-you, an apology. If there was one thing I knew how to do, it was to let a man fuck me.
He pulled off my clothes carefully, his fingertips pausing at each bruise. I stood for him in the middle of the room, still in my mellow head space. He could have asked me to do anything for him, but what he asked was, “Will I see you again?”
God, please.
How did he do this to me? I’d told myself that men only wanted sex, and that they weren’t above using force to get it. And that made a sick sort of sense, because Andrew was a man. A good one, supposedly. One I had trusted, that was for sure. My friend.
When he’d raped me, it was easier to write all men off. The men at the club had only proved the point. They thought they were using me, but it was the other way around. Every slap, every insult, every pinch-of-pain thrust had only cemented the walls that had allowed me to move past the rape and live my life. Now Colin wanted to bring all that down.
I couldn’t go back to that dark place in my mind. I’d do anything not to go there again.
So it killed me when I responded, “Yes.”
Maybe it made me weak, but I couldn’t give him up.
“What?” The little crease in the middle of his forehead showed he was as surprised as me.
“There’s something I have to tell you first.” I took a deep breath. “I have a kid. A little girl.”
“Okay.” He drew the word out.
What was the norm in a situation like this? I hadn’t dated, hadn’t thought about it. “Okay good or okay bad?”
“Okay, I already knew that.”
“What? How?”
He shrugged. “Car seat.”
I supposed that made sense. And now that I thought about it, there was baby stuff pretty much all over my apartment. More baby furniture than adult furniture. Only my room was spared, because it was empty but for my bed.
“And you’re…cool with that?” I asked.
He scowled. “I’m here, aren’t I?”
I had my doubts. This whole night seemed like a dream. A strange nightmare-turned-fantasy dream. That guy had been the worst, but then I always expected the worst. What I hadn’t expected, what had never happened before, was being saved. Being protected, carried away by a freaking knight in a white truck.
Suddenly I needed a shower. What had been acceptable earlier tonight—that man’s hands on me—now felt entirely wrong. Their very imprint defiled me, and by extension Colin.
“I need to shower,” I blurted out.