ones your friend was wearing were bordering on stilts. Anyway, she twisted her ankle walking out. Fell straight onto her ass. I’m pretty sure it’s just a sprain but she flat out refused to go to the ER, babbling about looking like an idiot with her folks.” He shrugged, not knowing the context of Megs’s refusal. Even in her inebriated state, Megs knew the minute she stepped into an ER someone would have recognized her last name and possibly connected it to her parents.
“So I called Troy and Jase and they came out the front to helped me get the two of you home. We got Megs situated with some ice and ibuprofen, incidentally repeatedly saying our last names got old, real quick.” He rolled his eyes before continuing, “And then we headed out of the city to your place.”
“So what? You followed me up to my apartment and took advantage of me?” I cringed knowing how low my judgment had slipped; I’d let a stranger into my apartment and let him do who knows what to me. “You are such a creep.”
“Me? Oh sweetheart, last night was all you. You were all over me in the Suburban on the way home. Practically jerking me off in the back seat. I was just going to get you into your apartment and leave but you begged me to stay. Told me how much of a good girl you’d been your whole life and that you wanted to be bad.” His grin widened. “It’s the good girls you need to watch out for.”
“No, this isn’t happening. That sounds nothing like me. I don’t jerk off random guys in cars and I don’t have one-night stands, especially not with musicians. Hell, I’ve never even been to a concert.” I shook my head, wishing I could go back in time, tell myself to stop drinking, tell myself not to go the VIP section, tell myself to stay home and order pizza instead.
“Whoa. Hold up a minute. You’ve never been to a concert? Like ever?” Dan recoiled in horror.
“No, never. That however is not relevant, what is relevant is that even when I have been drunk in the past, I have never just gone home with a guy. Someone must have slipped something into my drink. I surely must have been drugged.”
That had to be the explanation. Of course, drugs. Let’s go with that, except that our drinks hadn’t been left unattended at any stage and there had been no opportunity for drugging to take place. Ugh! Back to square one.
“Wow, Ashlyn, You’re a virgin. I’m sorry, babe. I had no idea.” His voice softened as he looked on me with pity-filled eyes. His ill-directed compassion made me angrier.
“I’m not a fucking virgin, you idiot. I’ve had sex before.”
“I was talking about a concert virgin. I kind of feel sorry for you.” He eased back onto the bed unconcerned or oblivious to the telepathic mind bullets I was shooting him with.
“I just told you I think I might have been drugged and you are more concerned with the fact I’ve never been to a concert before. What is wrong with you?” I narrowed my eyes, wondering if this was an angle or he was just genuinely simple minded.
“Nothing is wrong with me, what is wrong with you ? You’ve never been to a concert, had a one-night stand, or jerked off a guy in a car. What the hell did you do in college?”
“I studied, asshole. What you are supposed to do in college. Be a viable member of society, get a degree, try and gain a future so I wouldn’t be a drain on welfare. Of course you wouldn’t know about that, would you?” I spat back indignantly.
It wasn’t the first time I had been questioned about my lack of college-experience. I wasn’t a prude and I wasn’t boring, I was a realist. I wasn’t gifted with an obscene IQ and while I was far from stupid, I had to work my ass off for every single “A” I got. I literally couldn’t afford to fail, knowing even if I passed every class I would still be crucified by student debt well into my thirties. Adding another semester or two because I wanted to party or make out with imbeciles who wouldn’t
“So I called Troy and Jase and they came out the front to helped me get the two of you home. We got Megs situated with some ice and ibuprofen, incidentally repeatedly saying our last names got old, real quick.” He rolled his eyes before continuing, “And then we headed out of the city to your place.”
“So what? You followed me up to my apartment and took advantage of me?” I cringed knowing how low my judgment had slipped; I’d let a stranger into my apartment and let him do who knows what to me. “You are such a creep.”
“Me? Oh sweetheart, last night was all you. You were all over me in the Suburban on the way home. Practically jerking me off in the back seat. I was just going to get you into your apartment and leave but you begged me to stay. Told me how much of a good girl you’d been your whole life and that you wanted to be bad.” His grin widened. “It’s the good girls you need to watch out for.”
“No, this isn’t happening. That sounds nothing like me. I don’t jerk off random guys in cars and I don’t have one-night stands, especially not with musicians. Hell, I’ve never even been to a concert.” I shook my head, wishing I could go back in time, tell myself to stop drinking, tell myself not to go the VIP section, tell myself to stay home and order pizza instead.
“Whoa. Hold up a minute. You’ve never been to a concert? Like ever?” Dan recoiled in horror.
“No, never. That however is not relevant, what is relevant is that even when I have been drunk in the past, I have never just gone home with a guy. Someone must have slipped something into my drink. I surely must have been drugged.”
That had to be the explanation. Of course, drugs. Let’s go with that, except that our drinks hadn’t been left unattended at any stage and there had been no opportunity for drugging to take place. Ugh! Back to square one.
“Wow, Ashlyn, You’re a virgin. I’m sorry, babe. I had no idea.” His voice softened as he looked on me with pity-filled eyes. His ill-directed compassion made me angrier.
“I’m not a fucking virgin, you idiot. I’ve had sex before.”
“I was talking about a concert virgin. I kind of feel sorry for you.” He eased back onto the bed unconcerned or oblivious to the telepathic mind bullets I was shooting him with.
“I just told you I think I might have been drugged and you are more concerned with the fact I’ve never been to a concert before. What is wrong with you?” I narrowed my eyes, wondering if this was an angle or he was just genuinely simple minded.
“Nothing is wrong with me, what is wrong with you ? You’ve never been to a concert, had a one-night stand, or jerked off a guy in a car. What the hell did you do in college?”
“I studied, asshole. What you are supposed to do in college. Be a viable member of society, get a degree, try and gain a future so I wouldn’t be a drain on welfare. Of course you wouldn’t know about that, would you?” I spat back indignantly.
It wasn’t the first time I had been questioned about my lack of college-experience. I wasn’t a prude and I wasn’t boring, I was a realist. I wasn’t gifted with an obscene IQ and while I was far from stupid, I had to work my ass off for every single “A” I got. I literally couldn’t afford to fail, knowing even if I passed every class I would still be crucified by student debt well into my thirties. Adding another semester or two because I wanted to party or make out with imbeciles who wouldn’t
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