"He's disrespectful."

"In what way?"

"That guy was eye f.u.c.king you before he even confirmed we weren't together."

"Maybe he's just perceptive."

"How?"

"He sensed your disdain toward me. It was quite obvious."

"Where's he taking you?"

"I don't know yet."

"You should find out."

"What does it matter?"

"In case you go missing, I'll know where to tell the police to start looking."

Evening rolled around, and I had absolutely no clue what to wear. Will said he was taking me to this restaurant on the water in nearby Tiverton. It was going to be a humid night, so I opted for a lightweight floral tube dress that I'd bought one afternoon while out shopping with Jade earlier this summer.

I could hear Justin panting from down the hall.

Not again.

I didn't dare go over there to a.s.sess the situation after what happened the last time I found myself witness to that j.e.r.k.-.o.f.f. jamboree. After several minutes, what sounded like punching was added into the mix. I broke my vow to stay out of it and marched out of my room to check things out.

It turned out that Justin was in the exercise room beating the s.h.i.t out of an Everlast punching bag.

Beads of sweat were dripping down his sculpted back. The room smelled of sweat mixed with his cologne. His hair was drenched. He had earbuds in, and I could hear the music blasting through them. Gritting his teeth, he hit the black rubber contraption harder and harder. My heart beat faster with every punch.

When I inched cautiously closer, he growled, "Get out of the way." I flinched as his arm swung dangerously close to me.

I backed up but stayed watching him from the corner of the room. I'd seen him working out before but never like this. He was like a beast, so strong and virile. It occurred to me that with Jade gone so long, he must have been s.e.xually frustrated. Maybe that was why he was taking it out on the punching bag. Whatever the reason, I was transfixed by the energy he was expending and found myself unable to take my eyes off him.

He suddenly stopped, took out his earbuds and moved over to the doorway where he'd set up a metal bar for pull ups. My eyes followed the movement of his body as he lifted his own weight, his rock hard abs tightening and curling with each lift.

He jumped down from the bar and wiped the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. "Nothing better to do than to watch me work out? Aren't you supposed to be getting dressed for a date?"

"I am dressed."

"That's Jade's dress, isn't it?"

"No. It's the same one she has, but this one is mine. We both bought these from the same shop on clearance the same day."

"It looks normal on her. On you...it looks ridiculous."

My stomach sank. "Are you saying I'm fat?"

"No, but your body is different than hers. That dress looks obscene on you."

Looking down at myself, I suddenly felt naked. "What are you talking about?"

"You want me to spell it out?"

"Yes."

He came up behind me, grabbing my shoulders and positioning me in front of the full-length mirror on the wall. Shivers ran down my spine from the feel of his rough hands on me.

"Look. Your t.i.ts are busting out of it. Your nipples are poking out of the middle of those daisy flowers."

My mind was in a fog because all I could see was me in the mirror with Justin's hot, sweaty body behind me. Then, he flipped me around fast and his stare was burning into mine. He was too close for comfort, and my legs felt like they were going to collapse under me from the surge of s.e.xual awareness. "Look at your a.s.s in the mirror. The material can barely wrap around it. You think Dr. Doolittle is going to be able to look you in the eyes when you're dressed like that?"

"You really think this looks that bad?"

He suddenly walked away from me and returned to the pull-up bar. My nipples were tingling. I just wanted his hands on me again.

"I think it makes you look like a wh.o.r.e, yes," he said before doing a few more reps in silence. He hopped down, the weight of his body causing a large thump against the wood floor. "You really are that oblivious, aren't you?"

"What do you mean?"

"You never did have any clue what kind of effect you have on people."

"Be specific, please."

"When we were younger, you would sit on my lap, put your hands on me, run your fingers through my hair, hug me all of the time with your ma.s.sive t.i.ts pressed against me. I spent half of my teenage years walking around with a f.u.c.king hard on that I couldn't do anything about. The entire time you apparently had no clue."

"I didn't."

"I know that now. And you have no idea how many times I had to defend you behind your back. Guys talking about your body, saying s.e.xual things about you right in front of my f.u.c.king face. Do you have any clue how many fights I got into because of you?"

"You never told me."

"No. I didn't. Because I was trying to protect your feelings. I tried so hard to f.u.c.king protect you from s.h.i.t, and that was the one thing that bit me in the a.s.s in the end."

"I'm sorry."

He held his hands up. "You know what? Never mind. My bad. Let's not do this again. I told you we were done talking. And we are."

"Okay."

"I'd like to continue my work out in peace if you don't mind."

"Alright."

Back in my room, I could hear that he'd returned to the punching bag in full force. Still reeling from his words, I couldn't help but wonder if he was right. Maybe I was really just a clueless person. But he never exactly expressed his feelings to me back then, either. Was I supposed to be a mind reader? I felt like I needed to make that point. It was bugging me. I returned down the hall and spoke through his violent hooks to the bag.

"The other night you asked me why I never told you how I felt. Well, clearly you didn't have the b.a.l.l.s to tell me how you felt, either."

Justin stopped punching but kept his arms on the bag, leaning against it. He took a few seconds to catch his breath. "I thought it was understood. How much more obvious could I have been? All the f.u.c.king songs I wrote you? Did you ever even see me with any other girls?"

"No. But you did admit to kissing someone before that night at Brian's."

"I did kiss one girl before that night. Wanna know why? Because I didn't want to be clueless as to what the f.u.c.k I was doing when I finally got the courage to kiss you. I never considered it a real kiss. I wanted my first real one to be with you. I wanted everything with you. But I was afraid you were too young, so I was waiting. I didn't want to rush things and ruin it. But you're right. A part of me also didn't have the b.a.l.l.s to tell you how I felt."

"I wish you had. You were being careful, and I was just clueless. Together, we were...careless."

"Careful plus clueless equals careless? Did you just make that up right now?"

"Yes."

"That's pretty f.u.c.king cheesy."

"Thanks a lot."

"You'd better get ready for your date with Trapper Con M.D."

I laughed, relieved that he was smiling about things now. "Will you help me?"

"Help you? What the f.u.c.k do you need help with?"

"Help me pick out what to wear. Because I think you're right. This is a little skimpy."

"A little skimpy? Hustler would be calling you tomorrow if I sent them a picture."

"Alright. A lot skimpy."

"You can't figure this s.h.i.t out on your own? It's pretty simple. You cover your t.i.ts and a.s.s. Done."

"Yeah. But I still want to look good. You know I have a tendency to pick weird stuff. Potato sack couture and all. I feel like I go from one extreme to the other, and I don't know how to dress in between."

"Fine." Justin let out an exhausted breath and followed me to my room.

I started to take dresses out of my closet, throwing them on the bed one by one. "How about this?"

"s.l.u.tty."

"This one?"

"s.l.u.ttier."

"Okay. This?"

"You got Birkenstocks to go with it?"

"Alright...this one?"

"Well, that would be one way to get rid of him."

I covered my face. "Aargggh! This is so frustrating."

"I know a solution."

"What?"

"Don't go on the date."

"Because I can't figure out what to wear?"

"Yeah. I think you should stay home."

"You just don't like him."

"You're d.a.m.n right."

"Again...why?"

"He just wants in your pants, Amelia."

"Well, he's not getting in my pants."

"You sure about that?"

"I don't sleep with guys on the first date."

He lifted his brow skeptically. "You've never slept with a guy on the first date?"

"Well..."

"Exactly."

"Even if I wanted to sleep with him-which I don't-it wouldn't be tonight."

"Why is that?"

"I stabbed myself again."

He shook his head and chuckled when he figured out I was referring to my period. "I see."

"Why do you think that he's only interested in me for my body anyway?"

"It was his eyes. I don't trust them. You can tell a lot about someone by the look in their eyes. His gave me a bad vibe."

"Well, I have more going for me than my t.i.ts and a.s.s. So, hopefully you're wrong."