Page 60 of The Perfect Love

“I knew it. You’re totally obsessed with me.” I flip my hair and give him a sultry smile.

He kisses my cheek. “Totally obsessed.”

“Well, unfortunately for you, you’re going to have to get by without me tomorrow. Friday mornings I’m at Promise.”

“Damn. Well, I’ll have to get by dreaming of our date this weekend. Any chance you want to tell me where we’re going?”

“And spoil the fun? No chance.”

“Fine. I guess I can wait.”

I nudge him with my elbow. “It’ll be worth it. I promise.”

He glances down at me, smiling, but doesn’t say anything.

We settle into a comfortable silence, until I get an idea.

“Want to read together?”

A smile splits his face. “Fuck yes. I’ve been wanting to do that since we picked out the books. Reading separately andtexting each other is fun, but I’ve been wanting to actually read together.”

“Got your book?”

“Yep.”

With that, we both pull our books out and continue eating as we read.

Reading the same book as someone when you’re in the same space is underrated. Even if you’re not at the same part, you get to see the moments they pause and reflect, when a line hits just right, little gasps at unexpected moments. It’s a unique look into something that is normally a solitary activity.

Out of the corner of my eye, I steal glances at Trevor, but I’m the one to draw his attention when I let out a littlemmnoise.

“Get to something good?” he purrs in my ear.

“The second sex scene,” I whisper.

“I better read faster.”

He looks back at his book, and I continue on, but a page later, I snap the book shut.

Trevor stops reading and turns to me.

“You okay? Did someone die? Do we need to put the book in the freezer?”

I laugh out loud. “Like Joey onFriends? And who would be getting killed during a sex scene? This isn’t a dark Mafia romance.”

He shrugs. “What’s up?”

“Eh, there was a line in there that…” How do I say this without dragging it into a conversation I don’t want to have right now? “It just made me feel a little icky. Nothing bad. It’s a me thing, not a book thing. I just need to take a break for a second.”

It’s a romance book. I should be expecting these kinds of lines. But the male main character slipping his fingers between the female main character’s legs and saying, “Is this all for me?” hits differently now. Sure that can happen when you’re turned on.But it can also happen from hormones or increased white blood cells when we’re sick. It’s not cut and dry.

That night is hazy and I can’t recall exact words, but I remember the implication that I must’ve wanted it or should’ve stopped fighting it because my body clearly wanted it.

It makes me want to puke now, thinking about it.

It’s such a small inconsequential line, and that fucker took away my ability to read it and not have any reaction to it. Yet another part of my peace he’s tried to destroy.

I was so broken after what happened that I didn’t fight. Didn’t push the police investigation. But there’s a fire growing in me every day, wondering if Icanpush now. Or if they’ve already tossed my case aside because who gives a fuck about a drugged-up woman who can’t remember the fuckhead who raped her?

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