“Are you fucking kidding me? Did that bastard say something to you?”

Tracing my fingers over the granite of the countertop, I say, “He acted like I was some kind of freak. He…left and then told his friends I had something. Jake, my roommate’s boyfriend, was so angry; he knew what had happened to me from Rose.” Lucian’s chair scrapes back, and he is at my side. I continue to look down, mortified that someone as perfect as Lucian would know of my shame.

“Lia, look at me.” Reluctantly, I obey, seeing the fire simmering in his eyes. “You don’t have anything to feel bad about. Everyone has scars; some are visible and some aren’t. This punk didn’t deserve to be your first. He had no interest in pleasing and putting you first. Don’t waste a fucking thought on him; he isn’t worth it.” I can’t stop myself from climbing into his big arms. He is warm, strong, and smells panty-meltingly divine. I want to take my tongue and lick every inch of his body. Before I can put that plan into action, he pulls back, looking down at me.

“Hey, don’t you owe me another question?” I tease. He nods in agreement, and the scar on his neckline catches my attention. I run my finger across it, feeling his body stiffen. “How did this happen? Were you in an accident?” He freezes before pulling abruptly away.

“I have some work to do tonight. I’m going out of town tomorrow for a few days. You have your key, so you can come and go as your schedule allows. There shouldn’t be much to do here while I’m away, so don’t worry if you have schoolwork to do. He points at the dishes, adding, “I’ll clean this up later. Let me walk you down to your car.” He hasn’t looked at me through his entire speech, and I am reeling. I don’t think it was a coincidence that he is all but throwing me out the door after I questioned him about the mark on his neck.

“I can clean the kitchen before I leave. It won’t take long,” I offer.

“Just leave it,” he snaps before taking a deep breath. “Can you just do as I ask?”

“Okay,” I answer, walking out of the kitchen to find my handbag still sitting in the foyer. He follows quietly, opening the door for me. The ride in the elevator to the parking garage is silent, and I fidget with the strap of my bag. If not for my job with him, I fear I would never see him again; of course, there is no guarantee I will. As I unlock my car door, I mumble, “I’ll see you when you get home.” I cringe knowing it came out more like a question than a statement. He leans over and kisses my forehead, and I fight the urge to cry; he is putting distance between us. Even a quick peck on the lips would have been preferable to the platonic kiss he has given me.

“Be careful,” he says as I shut my door. I give him a half-hearted wave and back out of the space. When I pull onto the road, he is still standing where I left him, looking down toward the ground with his hands in his pockets. He looks like a little boy at that moment, and I wonder what has happened in his past to make him shut down so quickly. With so many issues of my own, I find it hard to believe that I have developed some sort of dysfunctional relationship with a man who is also chasing demons. Damn, couldn’t I have found a Jake? Someone who treats me well, doesn’t have baggage, and does all the normal, uncomplicated boyfriend things? There is one thing I know for sure: if I do hear from Lucian again and continue down this unknown road, things will never be normal because we are both fucked-up. Even knowing that, I will be waiting, praying I hear from him again.

Rose texts me just as I’m parking my car near our apartment; she is around the corner at Starbucks and wants me to meet her there. My fingers have already tapped out an excuse when I think better of it. Tonight, I need a friend, and I think it’s time to tell her what’s been going on with Lucian. She has more experience with men than I do, and I could use the advice. I let her know I’m on my way and in moments, I enter the campus Starbucks and see her waving from the back. “I know it’s doing nothing but putting extra fat on our asses, but we are having a frappe tonight instead of the usual low-calorie shit.”

“Amen,” I say as I grab the frappe and drink enough to cause a brain freeze. “Boy, I needed that,” I sigh gratefully.

“A drink and a smoke would probably be better, but you gotta work with what you have.” I study Rose, noting my normally-unflappable friend looks disheveled. She is even chewing her nails which is a no-no for someone who pays a small fortune for regular manicures. Have I been wrong about Jake being the perfect boyfriend?

“So…what’s got you committing death by frozen drink? Is everything okay with Jake?” When she actually blushes, I’m dying to know what has happened.

Even though it kills me, I give her a few minutes to fidget before she finally blurts out, “Jake wants to try anal sex!” Wow, I wasn’t expecting that at all. First, I’m rather surprised Rose is so appalled, since she seems pretty free where their sex life is concerned. Second, I never pictured Jake being that adventurous. It’s not really the conversation so much as the position of the players that throws me; I can totally picture Rose trying to pressure Jake into it.

“Hmmm, okay…and you aren’t into it?” She looks at me, surprised by my reaction. She seems to expect me to fall to the ground, shrieking in horror. While I’ve never had anal sex, nor have any desire to, it’s just a minor blip on my radar. When you were raised in a living hell, consenting sex between couples is minor and not a big deal. Jake, at least, cares for her enough to talk to her about it first instead of trying to force her; at least, I think so. “Did he try to make you do it or just let you know he was interested?”

I am relieved to hear her say, “Duh, Jake would never do something like that. He just…wants to give it a try. I guess some of those shithead jocks he hangs out with have all been bragging about how great it is. Now he seems to believe he is missing out on something.”

Taking her hand, I say honestly, “If you don’t want to try then just tell him. Jake cares about you and even though it might be something he wants, he will understand if you don’t.”

She gives me a curious look, asking, “Would you do it?” Before I can plead ignorance, she spells it out, “If a guy wanted to have anal sex with you, would you do it?”

I’m blushing; I can feel the heat rushing up my cheeks. “I…don’t know…maybe. It depends on the person and I guess whether I really trusted them.”