Damaged Read Free

major?”
    “Business.” Dusty tries to gaze into my eyes, but whenever I look at him, the pit of my stomach turns to ice. God, I’m a wreck. It was easier to talk to that other guy.
    I force my gaze up and smile at him again , even though I’d rather bang my head on a rock. “So, do you want to start a business?”
    “Something like that. Maybe open a shop or manage one of my dad’s stores. I don’t really know yet. After I finish this, I have to do graduate work, so it’s still a ‘ways off.” He lifts his arms and slips it behind me.
    I can’t breathe. It’s as though he knocked me in the back with a two-by-four. When his arm settles over me, it’s even worse. Damn it. Why can’t I sit here? Why does every touch have to make me so crazy? I’m getting better, I swear to God I am.
    Then why are you still acting like this? That little voice in the back of my head is a total bitch. She’s in cahoots with the bear.
    Brent nods, and continues talking to Millie about a class they had earlier today. Millie laughs.
    Dusty rubs his fingers on the edge of my shoulder, touching my bare skin. The dress is sleeveless. Suddenly, I’m somewhere else, lost in a memory. I feel my ex’s hands on me. The past and the present crash together. I stiffen more. “Relax. I won’t bite. And Brent can vouch for me. I’m not a total ass—”
    “His ass-o-meter rating is around a two. No worries there, Sidney.” Brent smirks at me. His eyes slip over his friend’s arm around my shoulders. “Me, on the other hand—”
    Millie slaps his chest and laughs, “You’re perfect. I wouldn’t change a thing.” She leans in and kisses him. My face flushes and I look away. Mistake. When I do it, Dusty is watching. Our eyes lock, but it’s not a good feeling. It evokes everything I want to forget.
    The waiter saves me, and Millie stops sucking face long enough to order. We share an appetizer. Dusty talks more about his family and home. He pops a piece of shrimp into his mouth. “What about you? Did your family support you coming down here?” Somehow Dusty has closed the gap between us. We’re shoulder to shoulder, hip to hip. There’s no way to scoot away from him, either. One more wiggle and I’ll fall on the floor.
    When he mentions my family, I feel my hackles raise. It’s a common enough question, so I try to sound normal. “Yeah, of course. Whose family wouldn’t want them to go to college? And this school’s great.” I’m distracted. I lie. My stupid family doesn’t even know where I am.
    Dusty leans in close to me. He takes a curl between his fingers. I glance at him and twist so the curl drops. “You look so hot tonight.” My eyes instantly avert their gaze. Even though I’m no longer looking at him, I can feel Dusty’s eyes on my skin. The hairs on the back of my neck prickle. He leans in toward me and places his hand on my knee, slowly. Very slowly. I won’t react. I can do this. I can. It’s a normal touch.
    It’s normal. I want to be normal. I want it so badly, but my eyes sting. My pulse is pounding like someone is chasing me with an axe. I smile at him again, forcing myself to stay put. Dusty takes my smile the wrong way. His hand slips under the hem of my dress and halfway up my thigh—skin to skin—and squeezes. He grabs me and my world shifts. I’m here, but my mind is lost in the past, reliving memories that I want to forget.
    My muscles react without my consent. Shooting out of my seat, I jump up, banging into the table, shaking all the silverware. It makes a loud noise. I hold out my hands, ready to make up some excuse, when I whirl around and slam into a waiter. He’s holding a tray of food—our food—high over his head. When I slap into him, the tray topples to the side. Every entrée slips to the side in slow motion, and slides off the side of the tray. There’s a loud crash when the plates hit the floor.
    For a second, I stand there paralyzed. Dusty gives me a what the hell look.