fishnet stockings, and tall brown boots. She wore a little more make-up than usual, giving her eyes a thick cat-eye flick. “I don’t need your validation,” she snapped. She could lie to him all she wanted, but she couldn’t lie to herself. She knew exactly who she got all gussied up for, and it mortified her to no end. “And I don’t appreciate it when people speak for me when I can very well speak for myself.”
Nick regarded her with an innocent, quelling look that angered her even more.
“Correct me if I’m wrong, but it didn’t look like you wanted him hitting on you. I was giving you an out.”
“By asserting your ownership over me in front of another man to get him to leave me alone? Was your masculinity challenged when you saw him poaching?” she scoffed at him. “Please don’t use me as a pawn in your male rituals of dominance.”
Nick swore softly and inhaled, slow and deep, as if trying to conjure up the patience to deal with her. “I was just trying to help.”
“What you were doing was perpetuating this construct that a man’s word is more valid than a woman’s. That a man should respect another man’s claim to a woman, as if she’s his property, instead of respecting what she has to say for herself.”
Nick wisely chose not to say anything more, and for a long while they just looked at each other, two pairs of dark eyes flashing and two tempers simmering.
He spoke first. “I’m gonna go sit over there,” he said, pointing to an unoccupied couch in a relatively quiet area of the club, the farthest away from the crowded dance floor. “I hope you join me. I want you to join me. I wanna have a drink with you and have a normal conversation with you where you don’t dress me down or spout random shit from your feminist manifesto. But maybe I better wait for you to come to me so you’ll quit acting like I’m forcing myself on you and I’ll quit feeling like an ass for it.” He took a step back. “I won’t wait the whole night.”
Rose watched him go, taking her anger with him and leaving her with a hollow sensation in the pit of her stomach. Maybe she overreacted a little. Alright, she overreacted, period. God, what was wrong with her? Couldn’t she shut off her feminist brain on an odd Friday night long enough to flirt with a man who was clearly interested in her?
She frowned and gave her head a sad shake. The truth was she couldn’t. She wasn’t good at compartmentalizing. No one who saw what she did day in and day out would be. Running a women’s crisis center was not exactly a fun job. It was gratifying in its own way, and she couldn’t imagine doing anything else. She loved knowing they made a difference, made life a little easier for women who had been through so much. But not every case file that came across her desk had a happy ending. Not every woman who walked into their small office got the help she deserved, no matter how hard they all tried. It wasn’t the kind of job that she could just clock in and out off. It was part of who she was, the part that saw threats when there weren’t any and took offense when none was meant. If there was one thing her job had taught her, it was that every man, even the nicest, most harmless looking ones, had the potential to hurt a woman. All of them. The moment you let a man close, you were vulnerable.
Nick was sitting on the couch, waiting, just as he said he would. He had his back to Rose and she watched with irrational jealousy as a group of women approached him, all carefree and full of laughing, flirty mischief. A tiny part of her wished she could be that kind of girl for him, because honestly, he was probably one of the good ones. But Rose was practical and a realist, and she and Nick were quite simply a bad fit for each other. So be it. She never allowed herself to believe otherwise anyway.
One of the women bent over while Nick whispered something in her ear. She waited to see what he would do next. Would
Nick regarded her with an innocent, quelling look that angered her even more.
“Correct me if I’m wrong, but it didn’t look like you wanted him hitting on you. I was giving you an out.”
“By asserting your ownership over me in front of another man to get him to leave me alone? Was your masculinity challenged when you saw him poaching?” she scoffed at him. “Please don’t use me as a pawn in your male rituals of dominance.”
Nick swore softly and inhaled, slow and deep, as if trying to conjure up the patience to deal with her. “I was just trying to help.”
“What you were doing was perpetuating this construct that a man’s word is more valid than a woman’s. That a man should respect another man’s claim to a woman, as if she’s his property, instead of respecting what she has to say for herself.”
Nick wisely chose not to say anything more, and for a long while they just looked at each other, two pairs of dark eyes flashing and two tempers simmering.
He spoke first. “I’m gonna go sit over there,” he said, pointing to an unoccupied couch in a relatively quiet area of the club, the farthest away from the crowded dance floor. “I hope you join me. I want you to join me. I wanna have a drink with you and have a normal conversation with you where you don’t dress me down or spout random shit from your feminist manifesto. But maybe I better wait for you to come to me so you’ll quit acting like I’m forcing myself on you and I’ll quit feeling like an ass for it.” He took a step back. “I won’t wait the whole night.”
Rose watched him go, taking her anger with him and leaving her with a hollow sensation in the pit of her stomach. Maybe she overreacted a little. Alright, she overreacted, period. God, what was wrong with her? Couldn’t she shut off her feminist brain on an odd Friday night long enough to flirt with a man who was clearly interested in her?
She frowned and gave her head a sad shake. The truth was she couldn’t. She wasn’t good at compartmentalizing. No one who saw what she did day in and day out would be. Running a women’s crisis center was not exactly a fun job. It was gratifying in its own way, and she couldn’t imagine doing anything else. She loved knowing they made a difference, made life a little easier for women who had been through so much. But not every case file that came across her desk had a happy ending. Not every woman who walked into their small office got the help she deserved, no matter how hard they all tried. It wasn’t the kind of job that she could just clock in and out off. It was part of who she was, the part that saw threats when there weren’t any and took offense when none was meant. If there was one thing her job had taught her, it was that every man, even the nicest, most harmless looking ones, had the potential to hurt a woman. All of them. The moment you let a man close, you were vulnerable.
Nick was sitting on the couch, waiting, just as he said he would. He had his back to Rose and she watched with irrational jealousy as a group of women approached him, all carefree and full of laughing, flirty mischief. A tiny part of her wished she could be that kind of girl for him, because honestly, he was probably one of the good ones. But Rose was practical and a realist, and she and Nick were quite simply a bad fit for each other. So be it. She never allowed herself to believe otherwise anyway.
One of the women bent over while Nick whispered something in her ear. She waited to see what he would do next. Would
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