A Million Kisses in Your Lifetime(45)

“You should trust me,” he finally says. “I like you, Birdy. And I don’t go chasing after random girls in art galleries on a Saturday morning. That’s not my style.”

I dip my head, unable to stop the smile from spreading across my face. A thousand butterflies just hatched in my stomach, their fluttering wings making me giddy.

“I have a question for you,” he says, right when I shove the last fry in my mouth.

I pause in my chewing, swallowing before I say, “Whenever you start a sentence like that, it always ends up being an uncomfortable subject for me.”

“We’re getting to know each other, remember? I’m curious about you.”

“Okay.” I drag the word out.

“About the ring. How that came about.” His gaze drops to my hand. “The purity ball or whatever it’s called. Why did you go?”

“It’s a long story.”

“I’ve got all afternoon to listen.” He leans back in his chair, making himself comfortable.

God, he’s so annoying sometimes. Always asking me about stuff I don’t want to talk about.

Yet here I am, ready to tell him all about it.

“It started before the ring. I did something that—scared my parents when I was twelve,” I admit.

His gaze flickers with interest. “What happened?”

“I got my first phone and I immediately joined a bunch of forums that focused on stuff I was interested in. Mostly boy bands.”

“One Direction?”

I nod. “It’s a rite of passage for preteen girls around my age.”

“I was always partial to Harry,” he teases. At my surprised look, he continues, “I have a sister, I know about One Direction.”

“Everyone loves Harry. I liked Niall. But anyway.” I wave a hand. “I spent a lot of time on these forums and I met a boy on there. He was fifteen.”

“That should’ve been your first clue something was up. What fifteen-year-old dude goes on those forums to talk about One Direction?” Crew rolls his eyes.

“I was only twelve. I didn’t know.” I shrug, feeling defensive. “Anyway, we started talking. A lot. He asked me for a photo and I sent him one. He shared his photo with me. Lots of photos. He was really cute. Sweet. He seemed to understand me, when no one else really ever has.”

I go quiet, the memories painful. I was gullible. Completely innocent. I believed in him so strongly, I thought we could be together. He would be my boyfriend.

“What happened?” Crew asks quietly.

“He wanted to meet me. In Central Park on a beautiful spring day, so I agreed.” I press my lips together, my gaze growing distant. “I took my friends though. They wouldn’t let me go alone.”

“You have good friends.”

“Had. We all went our separate ways when I got into Lancaster.” A sigh leaves me. “He never showed, and I was just…devastated. We waited at the park for hours, until it started getting dark. My friends comforted me, but I cried standing in the middle of Central Park, believing I’d been dumped. The moment I got home and finally checked the forum, I had a bunch of direct messages from him, yelling at me in all caps that he actually went to the park. He even saw me, but he was angry because I brought my friends. He just wanted me there alone, he said.”

“If he was fifteen, he wouldn’t have cared,” Crew observes.

“Exactly. And he wasn’t fifteen. He was thirty-nine. Married with a couple of kids. The photos he shared with me were of his oldest son.” My appetite leaves me and I shove the plate away. “I was so humiliated.”

“How did you find out he was a perverted dad looking to get with a little girl?” Crew’s expression is thunderous.

“After the missed meeting, I couldn’t stop crying, and I was so depressed. I stopped talking to him as much, and he kept trying to get me to meet up with him, but I refused. I thought he would just trick me again and not show up. I’m so glad I didn’t go.” A shuddery breath leaves me. “My parents were aware that I was upset, but I wouldn’t tell them anything. My father eventually did a search of my phone and found out about the relationship I had with the boy. He’s the one who discovered who he really was by hiring a private investigator. It was so embarrassing.”

“What happened after that?”

“Turns out the guy talked to other girls my age and even met with a few of them—and raped them.”

“Holy shit.” Crew actually appears surprised.

I nod. “I know. I was lucky. Once that all went down, my parents—my father—went into total protection mode. He wouldn’t let me go anywhere alone. I had to report where I was at all times. They put a tracker on my phone. They wouldn’t let me spend the night at my friends’ houses. I was on complete lockdown,” I explain.

“Sounds awful.”

“It was, and I was so scared all the time. I didn’t trust myself, or my judgment. I was tricked by that guy, and it hurt. My parents made me apply to Lancaster, even though I didn’t want to go there. I wanted to stay with my friends and go to the same high school as they did, but my parents wanted me safe. My father didn’t trust me.”

“Do you feel safe at Lancaster?”

“Lately, no. I was oblivious to what was really going on the last three years, so I guess I did feel safe. Ignorance is bliss, I guess? Right before I turned fifteen, my father came to me, explaining the purity ball and how it works. What it stood for. He wanted me to make a promise to myself, and swear that I wouldn’t get involved sexually with any boy until I got married. I think he was worried I’d make bad decisions I’d end up regretting. Like—before.”