Chapter 10

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 Once I got home, I started sobbing. Why did I feel so dumb for pushing Wilder off me? Was I overreacting? Should I have loosened up and trusted him? How could I? I barely knew him, and red flag number seventeen was one of the toxic traits that terrified me. It brought so many conflicting feelings every time I looked at the red roses in the vase.

Cammie was at Roy's, so I did not want to call her crying about his brother. I did not want anyone to know what happened, but I made an exception for my best friend. We shared every bit of our lives.

I had my couch pillow clutched to my chest as my two cats lounged on the cushions beside me. My throat was dry from sobs, and I am sure I looked like a mess. Showering when I got home allowed me to scrub the feeling of Wilder off my skin. My wet hair was tied on top of my head, and I had changed into pajamas.

My phone vibrated, and I looked at the screen to see Cammie's name flash across it. I grabbed my cell and put it on speakerphone.

"What's up, girl?" she asked.

I cleared my throat because I did not want my voice to crack. Part of me was embarrassed to be so upset about what had happened.

"I think things are over between Wilder and me," I said.

"What happened?" she asked.

I let out a shaky breath.

Do not cry, I told myself. Keep it together.

"I may or may not have kneed him in the dick," I said.

Cammie laughed. "Why would you do that?"

I explained what happened once I got to Wilder's apartment in detail. Cammie clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth, and I imagined her shaking her head.

"Oh, Harley," she said. "That is terrible."

"I wanted it to go so well," I said. "I feel like an idiot."

"I told you I wasn't Team Wilder," she said. "After that forced blowjob, I don't think he is good news. You need a guy that is a walking green flag."

"Green flags are so boring. Toxic men are always spicy."

"And then you get into situations like this."

I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose. Pushing away the tears, I focused on my breathing. My chest ached when I recalled Wilder's words.

I thought you were cool.

Maybe I was acting like a stuck-up prude?

"I should have just relaxed and gone with it," I said.

"No," Cammie said. "You are not going to start victim blaming. You did nothing wrong."

"You sure?"

"One hundred percent positive."

I smiled and leaned back on the couch. We transitioned the topic to the lighter conversation of our upcoming week. The thought of Wilder almost disappeared from my mind.

My eyes were heavy as I flopped onto the bed. I plugged my phone into the charger when it began to ring. Furrowing my brows, I looked at the screen to see Wilder's name. It was just past midnight. Why was he calling me?

I predicted he would complain about tonight's events, so I declined the call. Flicking off the lights, I curled on my side in bed. The screen flashed, lighting up the room.

Did he leave me a voicemail?

Curiosity got the better of me, and I looked at the screen to see that it was a text instead.

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