Page 39 of Nanny for the SEAL

Surprise hits, and then I feel a little bad for the judgment. “I’m so sorry. Well, you better make a break for it before you’re wrapped into a conversation again.”

The woman grins, nodding. “Fuck yes. I can’t hear him talk about football anymore.”

As she leaves, I chuckle a little to myself. I definitely misjudged her, and it’s actually kind of nice to be proven wrong.

Life can feel like a cliché a lot, and it’s times like this I remind myself that everyone is their own unique person. I shouldn’t judge.

Ugh, which does include Amy.

Sighing, I turn back to the bar, and after a few seconds, a man sidles up to the spot where the other woman was standing.

“You in line?”

I glance over, trying to remember that I was just wrong about someone, so I need to remember to give everyone the benefit of the doubt.

“Oh, no. He’s making mine already. You’re good.”

The man eyes me, nodding. There’s a trickle of discomfort that runs down my spine as I notice his stare trace the edge of my top.

Swallowing, I lean onto my back foot, putting a bit more space between us.

“Oh, nice. What’d you get?”

“Umm, a Last Resort. Do you know it?”

Come on, Ivy. You’re just nervous. I’m sure it’s okay.

“Nah, I’m more of a beer guy myself. Say,” he takes a step closer, leaning on the bar in a way that makes me feel blocked in, “you here with someone? I’d love to buy your next drink.”

I grin, shaking my head as my pulse flutters in my neck. “Oh, that’s sweet, but no, thank you. I’m here with a friend.”

“She’s more than welcome to come too. I have two hands, after all.”

My stomach flips, and I look to the bartender who’s just starting on Sam’s drink.Dammit, why did we have to order such complicated cocktails?

I shake my head again, unsure what to say. “Umm, no, thank you.”

There’s something about the words he just used that makes my nerves shudder, the hairs on the back of my neck rising.

“Aww, come on. It’ll be fun.” He sinks closer, and I feel trapped with another large man behind me facing the other direction.

I don’t feel safe. This doesnotfeel safe.

Why can’t men take no for an answer? I’m not a piece of meat or some conquest.

Before I can speak again, he’s moving up to me, and his hand finds my waist, pulling me closer.

“Come on, sweetness. You’ll like it.”

The words are too familiar. I can hear them said by dozens of different men over the years of my youth.

I never liked it. I never wanted it, and suddenly, I can’t breathe, my chest tight, my heart rate skyrocketing.

No, no, no. Please, no.

Worse, I’m frozen by the proximity of it all. I’m rooted to the spot, my father’s words ringing behind the unnumbered others who spoke in soft tones with pretty words that hid the razor blades of their actions.

“I…”

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