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“Try me,” I say in a challenging tone, crossing my arms over my chest.

Her eyes flare with anger under the glow of the street lamp, and I’ve never seen them like that, and it hurts, knowing she’s kept such a big part of her life a secret from me.

“I wanted to feel something, somewhere that no one knew me. A place where no one would judge me, a place where I would feel seen.”

My brows furrow, not understanding what she means. “How long?” I ask.

“Two years,” she whispers, and hangs her head as if she were ashamed.

“Fuck, Gabriella, are you serious?” I spit. Anger flaring in my chest. Thinking of how many men she may have danced for, how many have looked at her the same way I have been doing. I clench my fists and take a deep breath before speaking again.

“You’re right, I don’t understand. Why would you need to work here to feel like that?”

“Because,” she bellows, wiping her cheek with her hand, sniffing before continuing, “all my life I’ve been told what to do, how to act, what to wear. Men have either wanted me in a way I wasn’t ready for or made me feel like I was the problem, like I wasn’t enough. I’m twenty-five years old and I am terrified of intimacy and letting a man into my life because I am scared I won’t be good enough.” She pauses, looking up at the dark night sky. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but it takes me a while to feel comfortable around people.”

Yes, I had noticed. I notice more about her than she realizes.

“I want to date. I want to find someone to settle down with, but I can’t get past a first date because I shut down and cut themoff because I know what the next part will be. They will want intimacy and I freak out and run scared.”

“Gabriella, if a man isn’t willing to wait until you feel comfortable being with them, then they aren’t the man for you,” I say, jealousy burning in my core.

“I know that, but I’m scared I’ll never be ready, so a friend asked if I would be interested in dancing here, and I took it. I thought it might make me feel more confident, more comfortable in my own skin so that I can feel ready to open myself up, maybe find someone to…”

“To fuck. You want to fuck one of these men?” The words fall out, leaving a bitter taste in my mouth.

She physically flinches at my words again, and I feel like the biggest asshole.

“No, I didn’t come here so I could fuck someone,” she spits back.

“I didn’t mean that, I…” I stop, at a loss for words because truthfully, I don’t know what to think or feel. My mind is a jumbled mess.

A silence falls between us, the tension and awkwardness getting too much. I reach into my back pocket for my cigarettes and lighter. I pull one from the box, placing it between my lips and flick the lighter. A small flame glows and I suck on the tip of the cigarette till it ignites. I stuff the packet and lighter back in my pocket. Taking a long drag, bringing my thumb and pointer finger to grasp the cigarette, tilting back my head, I puff the smoke into the night sky and let my shoulder sag, my body relaxing just a little as I exhale.

I’m not a big smoker, not now anyway. I only allow myself one a day and some days I don’t feel the need, but right now I could chain smoke this entire pack with how high my stress levels are.

“I’m sorry,” I say quietly. “I don’t mean to be an ass.”

She folds her arms across her waist protectively. “I know.”

“You could have come to me. I would have helped.”

I take another drag of my cigarette and puff the smoke into the air. Mocking laughter falls from her.. “Yeah, okay.”

“What’s so fucking funny?” I hiss. Shit, I am pissed. I need to rein it in. It’s Gabriella.

“You, saying I should have come to you. Don’t you think that would be a bit weird? Hey Brad, I know you don’t see me like that, but do you think you could fuck me because you seem to be the only man I feel comfortable around and then I can get over this issue with intimacy and sex so that I can find myself a boyfriend and potential husband. Yeah… that wouldn’t have been weird at all.” She falls back against the wall, running her hands through her hair.

I stand there, stunned, replaying her words. She feels comfortable around me. She wants to find someone to settle down with. Too many thoughts and emotions swim in my head. I take one last drag of my cigarette and toss it to the side. Blowing out the smoke as I step towards her.

“You think I don’t see you like that?”

She shakes her head.

A hiss escapes my lips, and I run my hand through my hair, shaking my head. “I’ll do it.” The words leave my mouth without really thinking about the gravity of what I’m offering, but all I know is I want to help her. I want to be that person for her, I can't bear the thought of someone else being with her right now, helping her with this, and it’s with that thought that I realize, I’d do just about anything for her.

She backs up, her brows furrowed as if she were processing my words.

“You’re insane. You can’t do that.”