Page 62 of Allure

"A Sweet Tart? I'd love one!"

I don’t have any, of course, but I do offer her some trail mix, which she happily munches on. It’s a bit harder for her to hear sometimes when people are chewing, especially noisy food like chips, and she soon waves and heads to her room to finish her snack, leaving me alone but somehow feeling less lonely than before she visited.

Ah, the power of friendship.

Too bad I can’t ask my friends to truly help me with what’s going on deep inside me.

I’ve always wanted to be a fixer, to try to make things better for myself and others. No one ever fought for me, so I had to fight for myself, and I’ve gone to extreme lengths at times.

I'm almost reaching that point here with this situation, and this time, I'm afraid I won't come out on top.

CHAPTER22

I've been avoiding Sensei as much as I can, the first one off the mat at the end of class, the last one to make it on at the start, trying to minimize the chances of his asking me for an update, but I can tell from the way he's eyeing me that he wants to know what's going on and sooner rather than later.

So when class is over, I hang by the guys’ locker room, waiting for Declan.

He eyes me skeptically as he heads my way, lifting his eyebrows.

I wring my hands, hating that I’m nervous, but spending one-on-one time with him… just the thought of that makes me a little nervous, which is ridiculous, right? So he said some stupid things to me. Things could’ve been a lot worse.

And he hadn’t filmed our having sex, at least not as far as I know.

“You look like a deer caught in headlights,” he says. “What’s on your mind?”

No way am I going to ask him point-blank about a sex tape featuring us as the stars, so I force a smile. "I know it's been a minute, but I really need your help with the self-defense class."

“I was wondering if you forgot about that… or if you had found someone else to help you.”

“That’s just it,” I mumble. “No one really is. I haven’t figured out much more than what we did that first day. I’m just afraid the whole thing is going to be a huge flop, and the women will regret coming, or worse, they’ll feel like they’re all empowered just because they took one class, and they’ll get into a fight or something, and someone will get hurt, and it’ll all be on me.”

“Overactive imagination much, don’t you think?” he asks. “The weight of the world isn’t on your shoulders.”

“Good, because I probably would’ve shrugged by now.”

He chuckles. “Should I call you Atlas?”

“I know better than to start a war with the Olympian gods,” I assure him.

“Do you? What about a war against a mugger?”

I stiffen, holding unnaturally still, not even breathing. When I find my voice, I croak out, “What are you talking about?”

“Your car. It’s rather distinct, and I’ve been making a point of driving around the grocery store now and again, just to scope out the lot, and I’ve seen you there every time I’ve driven through. Every time.”

I gape at him, astonished.

“You aren’t the only one who wants to protect the women,” he says. “Believe it or not, the police do too. I won’t make excuses for them, but they’re doing their best.”

“So far, their best isn’t good enough,” I snap.

He holds up his hands defenselessly and wisely says nothing, and we both, by unspoken agreement, drop it.

For an hour, maybe longer, we work hard on it, and we do the same the next day and the next, and I’m panting and so very sore, but I think we might’ve made decent enough progress.

“Are you sure this is good enough?” I ask, breathless, hoping against hope that he’ll agree with me.

“One way to find out. Do you have a laptop in your car?”

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