Cheater (Complete)

Chapter Fifty-Five: Not Him, Please

Rosie's POV

Dean was a damn moron.

Did I want to play the field? Hell no! Men scared me. Especially after Ricky. But by that delicious clench to his jaw, I knew he wasn't going to let this idea die. He wanted reassurance that I was completely settled with him.

Well, I was going to give it to him. Despite this being ridiculous.

If anything, I was insanely grateful I had found someone like Dean on my first try. How often does love spring up like that in the first relationship? More to the point, how often does that love actually last as long as this has?

It was a one in a million chance. And I'm so glad, so grateful, that it had happened between us. I didn't want to play the field.

I was slightly paranoid with men. My mother's experiences with men, Walter, and Crystal's father had all shown me the animals that men were. Ricky blew them all out of the water. How could I ever trust a man after all that? It's a wonder I was able to even have a relationship in the first place!

Nearly all of men were devoid of morals in favor of a heightened sex drive.

I was thankful beyond words that Dean wasn't like that. At least he wasn't anymore.

On the other hand, Sam seemed harmless. Stupid as hell but harmless. A player no doubt. I mean, I had met him in a strip club.

Still, I wasn't going to take any chances. I put a Taser in my purse. Dean bought it for me a while back, when we got out of the hospital. I didn't usually carry it with me (anymore) but I thought it was appropriate here.

I also brought just enough money for my own meal. Just in case this Sam guy was as big of a pig as I suspected and he wanted me to pay for dinner.

He would need to figure out how to pay for his own, if that were to happen. I only planned to pay for myself. I wasn't the one who begged for this date, after all.

I was debating what to wear. I didn't want to give this guy the wrong impression. I didn't want to lead him on. And I didn't want to be a rape victim, being blamed for the act because of any skimpy clothing I might wear.

In the end, I decided on one of my thicker, longer white sundresses. Anything from club work wouldn't do and I didn't really own any other dresses. Dean said I should stay away from the jeans in case Sam wanted to take me somewhere nice.

Going out with a strange man with only panties to protect me down below shook me a bit but I simply smoothed out my dress and put it on, as Dean suggested.

He just didn't get it. He didn't understand. How I still shook in fear, the terrible nightmares, the constant paranoia. How could I recover from what Ricky had done to me? How?

Dean was a man. He didn't quite understand helplessness like that. It was the most terrible feeling in the world, I was glad he was spared of it, but he just didn't understand and it made everything harder. He expected me to want to play the field. Ordinarily, perhaps I would miss it. But not now. Not how I was today.

He wanted us to finally sleep together. Jesus above, how would I manage that?!

It was idiotic. I understood his reasoning. I knew why he acted the way he had.

But honestly? It plainly didn't make the situation any better.

I was damaged goods. A bruised tomato. He was trying to eat me without realizing how rotten I was from the inside.

He bought me, knowing about the bruise, but thinking I was still good inside. He'd soon see what a mess he was stuck with.

Or he could just keep refusing to see it.