He rolled his eyes. “You have. We used to have so much fun, the four of us. You and me. Jake and Hannah. We could all be a group again—”

“Not a chance in hell,” I said, gaping at him.

“Aw, Amber. Don’t be like that.” He leaned in closer, and I immediately tried to walk around him. His massive arm on one side of the desk stopped me. “We obviously went wrong somewhere. If you know all you do…the blog…hell, why did you dump me?”

I raised my brows. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

He smirked. “I love it when you drop the F-bomb.”

“Ugh, gross,” I said, trying to move again. He blocked me with his other arm. A cold sweat broke out on the back of my neck, my stomach rolling. Flashes of that night burst in my head, my body screaming at me to run or punch him in the throat. “You need to let me leave. Now.”

“Damn it, Amber. Why can’t you just listen to me?” he whined. “I’m trying to talk to you. I miss you. I want to get back together.” He pursed his lips in a pout. “I could help you with your site. Work out scenarios you don’t know about.”

I cringed, my legs wobbling, the breath shallow as I tried to suck it down in gulps. His scent was everywhere—sweat and beer and some kind of overkill body spray.

“We’re done, Brandon. We’ve been done,” I said, hating that my voice shook. “Now back up.”

“No,” he said. “Not until you tell me why.”

I gaped at him. “You know why.”

“I really don’t,” he snapped. “Especially now that I know you’ve messed around before me. You have to know all that shit you post on the blog. And yet you’ve made me feel like an asshole all these months because, what? You just weren’t in the mood that night?”

Tears burned the back of my eyes I was so angry. “No,” I said. “I…I don’t have to explain myself to you. You wouldn’t listen when I said no.”

“You were my girlfriend,” he said, his tone sharper. “You weren’t supposed to say no to me. Besides,” he said, shrugging, “everyone knows girls say no just to play hard to get for a few minutes before that no turns into a yes.”

In that moment, as his words sank into my brain, I felt not only my fear, my pain, but the pain of so many others before me. The ones whose faces I didn’t know, but whose souls I could feel. The ones who were made to believe they were in the wrong—wore the wrong outfit, drank a little too much, trusted the wrong friend to take them home. Boys and girls alike.

Something deep inside me grew and screamed—no, roared.