LAYLA
“You know what my problem is?” I ask, half an hour later. After a glass of wine and some aggressive cuddling from Zack, I’m feeling a lot more relaxed.
Tucked between my two best friends under the dim red light of the bar, I feel warm and safe. Safe enough to talk about things I’ve never spoken about before.
“I am too defensive with men,” I admit. “I don’t trust guys when they flirt with me. I don’t trust them when they show interest in me, or touch me, or try to get me in bed. It makes me angry to be flirted with. It makes me want to run away. I just hate every part of it.”
“Okay,” Josh says slowly, running his finger over my hand. My skin tingles as he absentmindedly strokes the inside of my wrist. “Why?”
I considered, leaning against his side. His cool, minty scent drifts i
