Page 117 of Blindly Yours

Her eyes fall to my chest. “I know. It was stupid. I just…it seemed like more of a task to wait for an Uber.”

I set my jaw. “Why was he touching you?”

She shakes her head and runs her hand down her face. “He’d just put his hand there. I was about to push him away. He seriously won’t leave me alone, Nate.”

I pull my brows together and regard her warily. If he won’t leave her alone, it’s my job to step in. But for some reason, she won’t let me. “Do you understand how this looks? You had lunch with him the other week, chose not to tell me, and I had to find out from your mom. Were you going to tell me about today?”

“Yes!” Rose exclaims, flinging her hands to her sides. “Yes, I was going to tell you right away once you got home.”

I narrow my eyes as her shoulders drop. For the first time, I don’t know if I can trust her.

She stares at me for a long moment, grief spreading onto her face. “You don’t believe me, do you?”

I wipe my hand across my forehead and glance out at the truck. “I don’t know, Rose. You aren’t giving me a lot of reasons to. You told me you’d say no to him next time he tried to spend time with you.” I meet her gaze again. “I’d hoped you’d call me to get you out of it if something like this happened again. Why’d you give in?”

Rose drops her eyes to the ground, searching as if the answers are written there. “I was just trying to save you the headache, really.”

I take a step back and scoff. “Yeah, well this is more of a headache than that would have been.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispers.

I let my gaze fall to her feet, which fill a pair of pristine black heels. The red from their soles reflects on the shiny grey concrete beneath. This girl comes from a different world. Maybe Malcolm is the piece of that world she can’t quite let go. Maybe she doesn’t want to.

“You know,” I say. “If you prefer the risk, the thrill, and the expensive BMW over my dull, predictable pickup,” I gesture toward my truck, “just say it. I understand.” My comment has nothing to do with the cars, and she knows it too. It’s a low blow, but it slips from my lips before I can stop it.

“Nate,” she rebukes loudly, but there’s sadness laced in her voice. “Youknowthat’s not why.”

I stare pointedly at her for a beat. “I actually don’t.”

Her shoulders sag. “Why don’t you trust me?

I squeeze my eyes shut. “It’s as simple as the fact that you told me you’d refuse him if he ever pulled this act again.” I open my eyes and set my jaw. “If it was any other guy, I really wouldn’t care. But he’s your ex, Rose. I have to draw the line there.”

“Draw the line?” She narrows her eyes. “You’re going todraw the lineon who I can and cannot see?”

I exhale loudly and stand up taller. “I’m not going to tell you what you can and can’t do, but I’m also not going to sit back and let someone put you in danger and then put their hands on you like that when you could have just called me and gotten out of the whole thing.”

“It’s not my fault he put his hands on me!” Rose raises her voice.

“No.” I shake my head. “No, he’s a prick who has zero respect for you. Butyouknew he was a problem.” I point at her. “You knew I was uncomfortable with you spending time alone with him. And yet, you did it anyway.” She tries to protest, but I stop her. “And yes, I know you were trying to protect me, or whatever, but this one’s going to take me a minute.” I grasp the handle on the door that leads back into the parking garage. “This should have been a simple one, Rose. And if you don’t understand that, then we both have some thinking to do.”

Her mouth drops open and her expression fades to sharp remorse. “Nate, I…”

“I’ve gotta go.” I turn the handle and open the door. “I need to take the weekend and think about this.”

“Wait, what?” Her shocked voice echoes in the empty stairwell.

Facing the door, I squeeze my eyes shut. I’m angry with her and I’m terrified for Kara. “I can’t solve this right now. I have too much on my mind.”

“But…the wedding…” she breathes.

Shit.

I completely forgot.

Spending the weekend with a bunch of people who think I’m dumb and poor doesn’t sound like fun at all. I turn incrementally toward her to find an expression of grief morphing into irritation.

“You’re not going to come, are you?” she says through slightly clenched teeth.

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