“I’m sure you could,” I say, smiling thinly. If Carter isn’t going to carry on a real conversation with me, then I have no further desire to speak with him. I look past his shoulder, searching through the windows for Bailey or our new freshmen friends, but they’re lost in the crowd somewhere inside.
“I’m sorry, Carter, but I am just here to hang out with my friends,” I say, rubbing my arm so that he’s forced to move his hand away. “I’m sure I’ll see you around, okay?”
I go to head inside, but Carter steps in front of me, blocking my path. My mouth falls open at his audacity, and I prepare to say something rude, but then he kisses me before I can speak.
Ugh! He woodenly moves his arms around me, a paltry imitation of a lover’s embrace, even as I press my hands against his chest, trying to push him away. I finally turn my head to the side, but I am still held fast in his arms.
“Come on, baby,” Carter breathes into my ear, his breath hot and moist. “You know you want it.”
“No, thank you,” I say, firmly, hoping that puts an end to his advances. Instead, he holds me closer, and presses his lips to mine again. I shudder when I realize he’s not going to take no for an answer. I whimper a protest against his lips, but that only seems to turn him on more, and he tightly tangles his fingers in my hair.
No one else is on the deck anymore; no one else can see as I struggle against his grip. My heart pounds frantically, and I keep my eyes open as he kisses me, casting around desperately for an escape. It’s only a kiss, for now, but what if he thinks he’s entitled to something more? He’s clearly taller and stronger than me, and can take whatever he wants.
Enough, I think, hating every second of this assault on my mouth, wishing that Bailey and the freshmen had never left. Determined to escape, I kiss him back for only a moment before I bite down, hard, on his lower lip.
“Fuck!” Carter swears as he pulls away from me. Rage flashes in his eyes as blood bubbles from his lip. Before I can get away from him, he yells, “What the fuck did you do that for?!” Then he shoves me hard like I’m nothing but a rag doll.
The last thing I see are his eyes widening comically. Then I’m falling, and there’s a sharp crack on my head before everything goes dark.2KaraMy eyes flutter open. A pair of luminous amber eyes stare back at me.
“Oh!” The gasp pushes past my lips before I am able to stop it. The man looking at me is tall, muscular, and handsome; the rest of him is as gorgeous as those eyes. I take him in, feeling knots and pockets of pain in my body disappear as I do. His presence soothes me. Somehow, I know he’s here to protect me.
“Don’t worry,” the man says in a familiar voice. “You’re safe now.”
In fact, the longer I look at him, the more convinced I am that I know him. My memory is foggy—it’s hard even to remember my own name, at this point. How hard did that guy push me? How hard did I hit my head?
The man pulls me carefully into his arms, and I don’t resist. This doesn’t feel forced, or aggressive, not like when that creep kissed me. This feels, strangely enough, like coming home.
I lean my head against his chest, wrapping my own arms around him. “Thank you,” I murmur, listening to the steady beat of his heart. “This is exactly what I needed.” A reminder that not all men are out to get me, ready to strike at a moment’s notice, when I’m most vulnerable. A reminder that good, strong men exist who aren’t a disgrace to their gender, but rather a testament to their strength and kindness.
This is the kind of man I could fall in love with.
The thought dawns on me like a sudden surprise. My eyes snap open, and the man is still looking down at me, smiling softly. I reach my hand up, hesitantly, and then touch his face with my trembling fingers.
“Who are you?” I whisper.
As he opens his mouth to speak, my eyes widen in wonder. My memory surges back like the tide. I know exactly who this is. How could I have forgotten?
“Kara,” he laughs. “You know me. I’m—”“Kara?! Oh my God!”
I blink once, and then twice, before my eyes blearily open into reality. Immediately, I regret the action because my head blazes with pain. I press my hand to it, and when I pull it back, it’s sticky with blood. My face feels warm and wet with blood, too, and my eyes sting with tears.