Page 96 of Edge of Unbroken

“Because I’m nosy,” she says. “More than five?”

“Randi!” I grunt.

“Just answer my question. More than five?”

I relent with a groan. “Yes, more than five. More than ten, more than fifty, I don’t know, I didn’t keep a fucking calendar.”

“Jeez, more than fifty? You little slut,” she says with a chuckle.

I frown in mock offense. “Damn. How many guys haveyouslept with?”

“Before or after you?”

“Cumulative.”

She thinks for a second. “Are we counting the ones who paid me?”

“What the hell are you talking about?” I ask, pushing myself into a sitting position.

She’s quiet for a second. “Remember when you asked me how I was able to make it out on the road?” she asks, her voice smaller now.

I tense. “Uh-huh?”

“Well, I made some money playing random gigs, but it just wasn’t enough. Eventually I hooked up with this band and toured with them for two or three months. Their drummer would let me sleep in his room and he’d buy me food and stuff, and in return I’d… I’d sleep with him,” she says. “Eventually we went our separate ways, but I’d still hook up with guys and they’d pay for a hotel room or food, or whatever.”

“God damn it, Randi, that is so damn dangerous.”

“I promise I didn’t like, stand on the side of the road and hook up with nasty dudes.”

“But you slept with guys you only met that night, right? And they’d pay you?”

“Well, yeah, but—”

“But what, Randi? You could’ve gotten hurt,” I say in a sharp tone, my eyes locked on hers.

“Oh come on, Rony. Don’t act all superior. You just told me that you hooked up with over fifty chicks.”

“Yeah, but…” I trail off, realizing she’s right.

“But you didn’t do it for money? How’s that different? Did you intimately know every single girl you slept with before you fucked her?”

“No,” I say sheepishly.

She crosses her arms in front of her chest. “See! Just because you didn’t get anything out of the hookup but an orgasm doesn’t mean you’re any better than me. In fact, I’d say you undersold yourself.”

“But Randi, I’m a guy!”

This earns me a scolding look from her.

“No, I don’t mean it like that,” I say quickly. “I don’t mean to say that guys get to fuck around and girls don’t. I just mean that it’s a lot less likely I’ll get hurt. It’s just the world we live in. It would be too fucking easy for some asshole to fucking overwhelm you and…” I can’t even finish my sentence. The sheer horror of the shit that could happen to Miranda if she continued to put herself out there like that is too much to say out loud.

Her face softens. “Aww, Rony, are you worried about me?”

“Of course I’m worried about you,” I say, my voice laced with anger. “Randi, you weigh like a hundred pounds. Do you know how easy it would be for some guy to take advantage of you? You wouldn’t stand the slightest chance if someone decided to just… take you,” I say, knowing full well that if I wanted to I could overpower her in mere seconds, even if she put up the fight of her life. It’s just a matter of weight and mass, and at barely an inch over five feet, Miranda would be at any guy’s mercy.

“I pack a mean punch,” she chuckles, but it does nothing at all to alleviate the rising panic at the thought of her out there, all alone, hooking up with who-the-fuck-knows.

“Randi, please,” I say, locking eyes with her. “Just… can you not?”

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