Summer Nights (Fool's Gold #8)(19)

Annabelle winced. “You thought he really liked you.”

“Exactly. Instead, he was using me for sex. Things went further than I wanted and when I tried to stop him, he raped me. I was a virgin and it was horrible.”

“Did you report him?”

Charlie’s mouth twisted. “Oh, yeah. I went to campus police and they brought him in. I was smart enough not to shower. There was DNA evidence.”

“Then I don’t understand. If you had proof…”

Charlie looked past her. “They didn’t believe me,” she said flatly. “I heard him talking to the cops. He actually laughed and said to look at me, then look at him. Was there even one person who wouldn’t believe I’d have to be begging him before he would put out?”

She returned her gaze to Annabelle. “The police had called my mother. When she showed up and met him, she came and told me it was rude to lead a guy on. And that I shouldn’t lie about something like being raped.”

Charlie’s expression never changed. Except for the tension in her mouth, there were no hints that something was wrong. Only Annabelle could guess the truth. That Charlie had been devastated, as anyone would be. But her pain had been worse because no one had taken her side and those she trusted most had thought it was a joke.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“Yeah? Me, too.” Charlie picked up her burger, then put it down. “I keep telling myself it was a long time ago. That I’m over it. And I am. Sort of. But it’s why I don’t date.”

“You’re afraid to trust anyone.”

“A guy,” Charlie corrected. “I trust my female friends.”

Annabelle raised her eyebrows. “And yet you don’t want to date any of us.”

Charlie grinned. “You offering?”

“No, but I could ask around.”

“I’ll pass.”

“You haven’t dated at all since the attack?”

“A little. But it never goes anywhere.” Charlie’s smile faded. “It’s not like guys are lining up to ask or anything.”

“That’s because you make sure they know you’re not interested.” Annabelle turned the information over in her mind. “So you haven’t, um, you know, done it since?”

Charlie shook her head. “Why would I want to? It was horrible. Everything about that night was terrifying. It’s not like I miss it, right?”

Only her tone was slightly wistful.

Annabelle touched her hand. “You’re the strongest person I know, Charlie. And the bravest. You can’t let that jerk win.”

“He’s not.”

“Yes, he is. You’ve shut off an important part of yourself because of him. Maybe you don’t want to get married and have a family, but at least you owe it to yourself to find out. There are plenty of nice guys out there.”

“Do you see me with a nice guy?”

“At this point, I think it would be a very good idea.”

“He’s not winning,” Charlie repeated, but she sounded less sure. “I refuse to let him win.”

“Better,” Annabelle told her. “Have you thought about talking to a professional?”

Charlie rolled her eyes. “Therapy? Hardly. I’d rather take out my issues on a punching bag.”

“Or the guy in question?”

“He’s not worth it.” Charlie sighed. “You’re right. I’ve ignored what happened for years. I guess I need to work through it or something and move on.”

“How can I help?”

“You’re doing it just by listening. Thanks.”

Annabelle nodded and returned to her salad. She no longer felt like eating, but knew that if she didn’t, Charlie would get on her case.

Although she hated what had happened to her friend, she was glad she knew the truth. The situation explained a lot about Charlie’s attitude on everything from trust to men. She had a long road back to find something close to normal. Still, Annabelle was confident she would get there and that her friends would want to make sure that happened.

* * *

“THANKS FOR MEETING ME,” Shane said as Annabelle got out of her car and walked toward him.

“You were very cryptic,” she said with a laugh. “How could I resist?”

Sunlight suited her, he thought, bracing himself for the inevitable rush of wanting. It delivered right on cue, as he took in the soft wavy curls, the pale skin and temptation in her green eyes. Heat flared, desire exploded and he found himself wishing they were alone someplace quiet and dark. Like his bedroom. Or hers. He wasn’t picky.

Instead they were in a parking lot outside his contractor’s office. In the middle of the day. On the edge of downtown Fool’s Gold. Not exactly the place for a rendezvous. Not that Annabelle was offering.

She approached on her ridiculously high-heeled sandals, her skirt flirting with her thighs. Her T-shirt was simple and shouldn’t have been sexy, but was, hugging curves in a way that made his mouth water.

She stopped in front of him and waited, obviously expecting him to explain why he’d asked her to join him here.

“I need help,” he said, hoping she didn’t realize how true that statement was. “I told you before, I’m having a house built, along with stables and corrals. I can handle the horse-related decisions. I know how big I want the stalls, where the windows will be placed and all the hardware I need for their safety.”