Damaged Read Free Page A

Millie and Brent follow suit. I feel their stares and can’t explain. They don’t know. My mouth dangles open, but I don’t know what to say.
    I bolt. Before the night can get any worse, before I can make a bigger an ass out of myself, I leave. I walk swiftly toward the exit, ready to scream or cry—maybe both. What the hell is wrong with me? I wanted this. I’m the one who let him do it. It’s like last time. The images flash through my mind, but tears are blinding me. I push through the massive doors, and nearly trip over the curb.
    When the night air hits my face, I slow down. No one is chasing me. None of them want me to come back. I inhale deeply. The last half an hour has been an emotional rollercoaster. First, I humiliate myself, and then I get grabbed. I cringe inwardly. I’m so stupid. 
    As I dig through my purse for my keys, standing under the portico, I glance up and my heart lurches. It’s the hot guy. He’s in the parking lot with his hands on his hips, in front of a black car. The way he stands draws attention to his broad shoulders and trim waist. I drink him in before I notice that the hood is up. Why was I able to talk to him? That guy didn’t make me panic at all. I felt like the old me and not the lunatic that I’ve become. I miss who I was. I miss the old me. I know she’s still inside somewhere, locked away.
    He must sense eyes on him, because he turns and sees me. Raising his voice so that I can hear him, he says, “I take it that neither of us is having a good night?”
    I stare at him for a moment. My heart is still pounding. I’m in danger of stroking out. Before I can think about what I’m doing, I nod and walk toward him. Stopping next to Hot Guy, I say, “It was total suckage.” Some of the tension leaves my shoulders. This guy—whoever he is—has that old friend feeling. I don’t understand it. It feels as if I’ve known him for years even though I don’t know his name. It’s weird.
    I sigh and look at his engine. “Car trouble?”
    Running his fingers through his hair, he says, “It appears that way. It won’t start and it isn’t from lack of trying.”
    Folding my arms across my chest, I watch the way he’s looking at the car and can tell that he doesn’t know what he’s looking at. Neither do I, really, but I know a little. I walk to the driver’s side door, pull it open, and sit in the seat.
    He watches me as I try to crank the engine. It doesn’t start. I look at the little gauges and notice the battery.  He’s standing next to me now. “So, you’re a mechanic?”
    I shake my head, “I just pretend to be. It makes for more interesting evenings.” I grin at him, not sure what’s come over me. I never talk random guys, but it’s not like he’s random anymore, right? Hot Guy’s face falls and I realize that he believes me. I laugh, “I’m just kidding. I know a little about cars. For instance, I know this one isn’t going anywhere tonight.”
    “And why’s that?”
    “It seems like your alternator’s dead. Either that or you shoved a hamster up the tailpipe—” My face falls. I wonder if he did something stupid. College guys do all sorts of stupid things to talk to girls. I get out of his car and slam the door. Then, I tilt my head and cross my arms over my chest. “Tell me that that isn’t the reason the car won’t start.”
    He laughs and presses a hand to his chest, shocked that I’d say such a thing. “No, I didn’t do anything like that! And correct me if I’m wrong, but you were the one who came onto me first. I didn’t get here early and sabotage my own car , just so I could meet a girl I didn’t know was coming.” The way he smiles is contagious. He runs his hands through his dark hair, like he wishes he could say more, but he doesn’t. The corners of his mouth curve and he gives me a look that makes tingles crawl across my skin.
    I step toward him, smiling too wide. “I did not come onto you!”
    “You did. Right back in