Tyed

by L.J. Shen

“I don’t like him,” he says simply. Like he has the right to. Like he even knows the guy. “That’s okay. I doubt he’ll be asking you on a boys’ night out anytime soon.”

“No, I took you out on a date because I want to fuck your brains out, among other things, and I know that the feeling is mutual. Unlike your buddy Shane, I don’t sugarcoat my intentions. I don’t want to be your friend. I have no interest in hanging out with you at the mall or choosing outfits with you or crap like that. I crave you. I want all of you, every single inch of you. And call it an only-child syndrome, but I. DO. NOT. FUCKING. SHARE.”

“You’re mad because I told you I sleep with other girls?” He is mumbling to himself, almost as if it’s the first time he’s met a girl who isn’t okay with this. “Wow. You worked that out quickly. Are you sure you want to stay in the XWL and deprive the world of science of your incredible brain?”

“Shut up, Barbie. I’m taking you home. You were a bad first date.” I hear Ty’s familiar voice and let out a relieved groan. “You aren’t getting your own Bachelor season either,” I sniff.

“Must be fun being you.” “Not so much right now.”

That wasn’t a date. It was an open invitation for rape. At best.

“Heard you were struggling—” “So you thought, why not push him over the edge? Shit just got suicidal.”