Rhett scoffed. “Oh, come on, it can’t be that bad. You’re amazing. I’m sure there are dozens of great guys out there who’d scoop you up in an instant.”
“You’ve met some of my recent dates,” I countered. “Knowing there are great guys out there is one thing. Finding them is another. And don’t even get me started on all the various pieces of my own advice I ignore.”
He looked up at me then, really looked, and something in his expression shifted. “Like what?”
“You want the sad origin story?” I asked, trying to keep my tone light even as my stomach tightened with the familiar anxiety that came whenever I thought about my past.
“Someone very recently told me not to be so pushy, so please observe my calm, gentle demeanor. You only need to share if you feel comfortable.”
I grinned. “But you really want to know so you can poke your nose into more of my business.”
“Of course,” he said, laughing. “I’m hungry for details. But if you’re not comfortable sharing, I can respect that.”
I met his eyes for a long moment, thinking about the way Rhett tended to notice the details. Perhaps that was his superpower, not his goofy, himbo humor. It made him easy to talk to, made me feel like I knew him well even though we mostly bickered. So I stared down at my hands, took a deep breath, and started to talk.
“When I was in college, I had this professor—Garrett. He was brilliant, charismatic, fifteen years older than me. He singled me out, told me I had ‘potential,’ invited me to special study sessions. I was so fucking flattered. This important man saw something in me that no one else did. Or so I thought.”
Rhett watched me, focused on my story.
“We started dating in secret during my sophomore year. I thought it was romantic. We were star-crossed lovers who had to hide their connection because the university wouldn’t understand.” I laughed, the sound harsh in the quiet room. “God, I was so stupid.”
“You weren’t stupid,” Rhett said firmly. “You were young and full of hope. And he was manipulative.”
“Yeah, well, it took me until just over a year ago to figure that out.” I swallowed, forcing myself to continue. “I caught him cheating with one of his students. A girl the same age I’d been when we hooked up.”
“Fuck, Aims. I’m sorry.”
“It gets worse. The more I dug into it, the more I found. A new protégée every few years… I wasn’t the first, and I was far from the last.” I blinked back tears. “You know what’s fucked up? I didn’t even leave right away.”
“What?”
“He convinced me that I was special. Different from the rest.”
“Shit.”
“Yeah, but once I could see the pattern, I couldn’t shake it. Knowing how often he’d done this before made me certain he’d do it again.”
“He basically groomed you.”
“Yeah. He found me before I was the confident woman you see before you today. I was floundering in school, still missing our parents, trying to figure out who I was, and I was at my mostvulnerable and isolated. For all I know, he looked at my file and realized I was an orphan and picked me as a target.”
“I’m glad you got out. In the end, you were too smart to fall for his bullshit.”
“Was I, though? Was I really? That’s the worst part. Now I can’t trust my judgment with men. Like those guys I’ve been bringing home? I was trying to put myself out there.” I shook my head. “But you and Troy could see right through them. How did I miss it? Karl-with-a-K? Slut-shaming Shane? I have a Ph.D. in psychology, and I can’t spot an asshole when he’s standing right in front of me.”
Rhett slid off his washing machine and stepped between my dangling legs, wrapping his arms around me in a hug that felt like coming home. I sank into his chest, breathing in his scent, warm and clean and safe.
“That professor was a predatory piece of shit,” Rhett murmured into my hair. “Just because it took you time to unwind his manipulation and see it for what it was doesn’t mean you can’t trust yourself, Aimee. And those other guys were just garden-variety jerks. None of that is your fault. I trust your judgment more than anyone.”
“I know that intellectually,” I said, my voice muffled against his chest. “But emotionally? It’s like I have this broken radar, and every time I think I’ve fixed it, I find out it’s still pointing me toward trash.”
“You need time to understand who people are, Aims. There’s no shame in that. People put on acts. They put up shields. You know that.”
I reached up to smooth down a particularly rebellious tuft of his hair, meeting his eyes. “Like you?”
He cleared his throat, ducking his chin. “What do you mean?”
“The whole himbo class clown thing? That doesn’t seem like the man I’m talking to today.”
