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Her expression went blank. I saw her swallow sharply. Why did she look like what I’d said was causing her to panic?

I needed to add something to what I’d said that would stop her panicking. What could I say to put her at ease? I was trying to find the words. She looked frightened. But the more I thought about it, the harder it was to think of something to say. Then it occurred to me.

“You said your own advice is to judge the actions, not the image, right?” I repeated the one fact she had told me about herself.

She nodded her head, still with a guarded expression.

“Well, my action is canceling Carrie. My image might be telling you I’d put sex before you, but you’re wrong. Just because you are used to that doesn’t mean I’ll treat you like that.”

She opened her mouth and then closed it, just staring at me. How could she be that surprised that I wanted to spend time with her?

“I, um…” She paused and her expression hardened. “You shouldn’t cancel your plans for me. We can hang out another time.”

Was she going to come up with excuse after excuse on why she should leave? I looked at her harder. Yeah, she was going to come up with an excuse about why she shouldn’t stay.

So what should I say? I needed to come up with another angle to try on her. I didn’t want her leaving and thinking I was the type of guy that would blow her off for sex. I valued her friendship more than that. I knew we weren’t technically friends. And I didn’t look at her as a friend—I wanted something more with her.

She sighed and then stepped into her dress, pulling it up. I wanted to groan; that was a sign she was leaving and she hadn’t listened to a word I had said. She said she judged actions; well, weren’t my actions telling her what type of man I was and what type of friend I would be?

“You asked who it was,” she said while pulling her zipper up. “You asked who was the guy I was used to being blown off by.”

I frowned. She had remembered my question. I knew there had to be a reason why she thought it was acceptable I’d blew her off. So there was a guy whose fault it was she was like this.

I nodded my head.

“Well, I’ve learned that men have needs and if you don’t meet their needs, they find it elsewhere. I don’t get hurt by it. I don’t get mad by it. Because I don’t do strings. I don’t give any man more than sex.” She pulled her hair up into a bun. “In your case, I’m not even giving you that. So you should really go andfulfill a need.”

She tightened the bun and then looked at me with the most accepting smile on her face. Once again she was proving to me how she wasn’t like the normal women I was used to. She was proving to me just how mature she was, and how she might be eighteen but she sounded like she was in her twenties with a load of experience behind her.

I crossed my arms, not sure what to say. I could see by her guarded expression she was really letting me off the hook.

Her phone vibrated on the bedside table and she didn’t turn to check it; instead, her chocolate brown eyes were locked with mine and I could see the acceptance in them.

“So, I’ll, um, see you tomorrow at school?” she said, I think that was her way of saying goodbye.

Her phone vibrated again, but again she ignored it. Whether she left or not, I wasn’t going to have sex with Carrie. But I didn’t know how to tell her that—or better yet, get her to believe me.

“Layla,will you stay? Please?” I asked and I reached out forher but she took a step back. I wanted to groan; I thought we had passed this.

“Last night was fun, Tyson, but I don’t want you to get the wrong impression of me. I’m sorry, but I’m not capable of more.” She looked at me, torn, like if she could give me more she would. “I think it’s best if I treat you like any other guy. If I start to make exceptions for you then I’ll end up getting attached.”

Was that what was really scaring her away? That I might be able to break down her walls? That I might be the guy to get her to give more than just sex? My hopes went up. If she was scared of that happening and considering that it could happen then my chances were high of that happening.

“You really want to go?” I asked,hoping she would give in and stay. “Whether you go now or not, I’m still not going to see Carrie.” I felt like I had to tell her that—like it would make a difference.

She smiled. “You don’t have to do that for me.” Her phone started ringing and this time she turned around and answered it. Her phone didn’t make a normal ringing tone; it was personalized so she would know who was calling.

“Hey, Dad,” she said into the phone. She sounded somewhat guarded. “Yeah, like I messaged you, it all went to plan.”

I watched her go tense. “What do you meanearly release! WHY THE HELL WOULD YOU CALL ME AND TELL ME THAT!” she screamed into the phone. “Cyrus, you know what that means. How the hell could you tell me this over the phone like it isn’t a big deal?!”

Whatever her dad told her had really upset her. I frowned slightly. She had called him Cyrus again. I never called Dad ‘Reaper’. But that was the second time she had done it.

She scoffed loudly. “No fucking joking! I can’t believe you would put me in this position.”

I didn’t know if it would be okay, but I stepped toward her and planted my hands on her hips. She seemed really upset and I wanted to calm her down. Would she mind if I touched her?

“Does he know? Like, does he know our address?” She sounded so panicked. Like her dad had just confirmed her worst nightmare. “God, Cyrus if he knows where I am…” She ran a hand over her cheek, sounding panicked.

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