"You dated?"
"Yes." She swallows. "It didn't last."
I open my mouth to ask what happened, but a waitress steps up beside the table, silencing me. I pause long enough to glance at the menu, picking the first thing I see.
Tia already knows what she wants, so the whole interaction is finished in under sixty seconds before our waitress is off again.
"What happened?" I ask Tia as soon as we're alone again.
"It doesn't matter."
I reach across the table, placing my hand over hers. "It matters, Tia," I say softly.
She stares at me for a second, her expression startled, and then she sighs. "We dated for a few months at the beginning of my freshman year of college. He said and did all the right things, convinced me that he was this great guy who was really into me. Turns out, it was all an act, and I was just a bet," she says, avoiding my gaze.
"A bet?"
"The whole team wanted to see who could sleep with Kingston's little sister first," she whispers.
"Jesus Christ. Did he—?"
"No." She quickly shakes her head. "He didn't try to force me. I, um, I was young and dumb to give him my virginity all on my own. I thought I was ready. I thought I could trust him." She makes this sound that's painful to hear. "Turns out, I was wrong."
"What'd he do?" I growl, my heart pounding.
"The morning after…" Her bottom lip trembles before she grabs her wine glass and takes a quick drink to hide it. "I had to stand in the middle of the courtyard with dozens of people watching while he told his whole team that they all owed him cash for fucking me first. He told everyone that it was all pretend, that he just wanted to win their stupid fucking bet. He even told them that I was a…" She swallows hard, her voice dropping, shame in her gaze. "It's all anyone talked about for the rest of the year."
"That little motherfucker," I whisper, my blood boiling. Who the fuck does he think he is? And who the fuck were his teammates? I'll hunt down every single one of the bastards. "I'll kill him."
She glances up at me, shadows of shame lingering in her eyes, as if she's the one who did something wrong. She isn't, though. God, no.
"Why?" she asks, like she genuinely can't fathom why I care.
"Because you didn't deserve that, Tia," I say honestly. "No woman does. What you do with your body, who you give yourself to, and when is your choice to make. You deserve the right to make that choice with full transparency. He took that right away from you when he decided to lie and manipulate and use you." I shake my head, disgusted on her behalf. He exploited and humiliated her, and he did it publicly. "You were what? Eighteen? Nineteen?"
"Eighteen," she whispers.
My god, she was still just a teenager. And the most fucked-up thing? There's an entire world of women out there just like her, women who gave themselves to someone they trusted for the first time, only to get trauma in return.
"You deserved something perfect, not a lifetime of regretting one of the first adult decisions you made," I murmur. "You gave him a gift, and he ruined it. He's the one who fucked up, and that should be his burden to carry, not yours. Any man who treats a woman like that doesn't deserve to touch another woman again. He deserves to be put down like the rabid dog he is."
And any man who turns sleeping with a woman into a fucking bet with his buddies deserves jail. No wonder no one has anything good to say about Jordan. He's a fucking prick. God, I'd love five minutes alone with him. Bet he wouldn't think he was such a hot-shot with my fist in his face.
Tia's lips quirk slightly, her expression softening. "Trust me, he isn't worth killing," she says. "He isn't even worth talking about. But I still cringe internally every time someone calls me baby."
"I won't call you that ever again," I promise, meaning it. I need her to see me when I speak to her, not him. As far as I'm concerned, she never needs to think about him again.
"Thank you." She takes another sip, her gaze bouncing between me and the table, like she isn't quite sure where to look now that she's told me her story.
"That's why you don't like hockey players?"
"I never said I didn't like them. I just don't date them."
Can't say I blame her, not after some shit like that. Goddamn, I want to put my fist through Daniel Jordan's smug face, just rip him to pieces.
Guys like him are precisely what's wrong with the world, and far too many of them are rewarded for being pricks instead of being treated like the garbage they are. They get drafted, becomebigshot CEOs, or politicians. And women like Tia, the ones they preyed on, have to sit there and watch them succeed. It's fucked up.
Neither of us speaks when our waitress appears with our plates, setting them in front of us. Tia's stomach growls, and she laughs nervously, blushing.
