Page 48 of Fractured Fear

Until last night.

Besides, Zane is a man who looks like he’d be with a model, an actress, or some kind of superstar. She’d be sensual and confident. She’d know how to do a proper cat eye; know how to seduce him and make him go wild. The kind of woman that would make him want her every minute of the day.

Rio would be with a sexy bad bitch. She would dominate a room and have just as many tattoos and piercings as him, whereas I only have a single ear piercing. She wouldn’t need him to protect her, and she wouldn’t need anyone to hold her hand.

That’s definitely not me.

I choose D. None of the above.

I can’t even send my food back at a restaurant when they make it wrong. My preference is to silently eat my steak well done when I actually enjoy it medium rare.

Hedidn’t like it when I used my voice.Henever wanted my opinions.Henever would have asked what I wanted for dinner.Healways just told me, and I had to go with it. Every time I think about it I get angry with myself.

Why did I stay so long? Why did I let him do that to me? Why did I go along with everything he said?

Because I’m weak. That’s why.

Quiet has always been safe. Keeping things to myself is safe.

However, Rio and Zane aren't the type of men who would shut down my ideas and feelings. They ask a question and I answer. Simple as that. I don’t hold back even when I feel like I should.

Comparing is a dangerous game, and I shouldn’t participate. But how can I not? They’re night and day and it’s throwing me off. I mean, it’s a good thing Zane and Rio aren’t likehim. That would mean that I’m currently allowing abusers in my home.

The likelihood of me entering another abusive relationship is actually statistically probable. Not that I’m in a relationship with Zane or Rio. They’re just friends who wanted to make sure I got home safe…and am going to stay safe…all night long.

“What do you like on your pizza?” Rio shouts.

“Order whatever you want. I can pick off anything I don’t like. Except anchovies. Those leave behind a distinct anchovy taste.” With a press of a button, I turn on the TV and find my favorite show.

“Spencer.” Rio startles me. I didn’t hear him move.

I jump and look over my shoulder. I really need to be more aware of my surroundings. Or maybe Rio is just light on his feet.

He rests his hands on the back of the couch and leans down so his face is only inches from mine.

“What do you like on your pizza?”

His breath fans over my skin. Of course, his breath smells good. Like mint. The kind I’d like to taste with my tongue, but I can’t go there. I won’t go there. I’m not reckless. I plan, and I did not plan for Navarro Flores. So he has got to go asap.

Asap may not be until tomorrow morning.

His face is so close. Everything about him puts me into a trance, making me forget. I forget the pounding headache I’ve had since I woke up in the hospital, that I was attacked just last night and very likely by my ex, that I have a super long to-do list I’ll never be able to finish in one lifetime, that I’m technically in hiding.

His eyes drop to my lips causing my chest to rise and fall faster. I lick my lips and his eyes track the movement.

Shit. This can’t keep happening.

I clear my throat and answer, “Vegetables.”

He draws his eyebrows together. “What?”

“I like vegetables on my pizza.”

“Vegetables aren’t real toppings,” Zane teases from next to Rio.

I hunch my shoulders slightly and say, “Yeah, you’re right. Y’all can get whatever and I can pick off anything I don’t want.”

“Yes, they are. Don’t pizza shame her.” Rio swats Zane on the arm.

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