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The Loyal Groom (Groom 1)

Page 2

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He holds his hand out, and it seems so sincere that I take it. When it touches me, the warmth spreads up my arm and all over me as I duck my chin to hide my blush.

“It’s actually Rosy,” I correct him, releasing his hand, but before he lets go I feel his thumb drift across the back of my palm.

I wonder if he can hear my heartbeat with only the small space between us.

“Oh, I thought…” His brows furrow but then he shakes it off. “Never mind.” When he smiles at me again, I can’t help but return it.

“Hey, Violet.” Mindy takes the seat behind mine, and Darian glances over to her.

I expect for him to stare at Mindy and notice how beautiful she is, but to my surprise his eyes narrow in annoyance. I don’t respond to her, but I see her lean forward.

“Why don’t you move back a spot, hottie?” I hear her say to Darian.

My stomach cramps, and I try to ignore it. I hate feeling invisible, and I’d hoped in middle school to get away from the girls that always made me feel small.

“No, I’m good,” he says to Mindy and then glances back at me. He opens his mouth to say something else, but the teacher begins speaking instead.

All through class both Darian and I steal looks at each other, and I’m surprised I don’t feel more shy. Usually I’m the worst around guys, but there’s something about him.

Mindy lets out a huff when she doesn't get Darian’s attention, so she decides to kick the back of my chair, making me jerk. She stops for a moment then does it again, this one so hard it causes my book to fall.

Darian’s hand comes down hard on her desk. “You got a problem?” he asks Mindy.

“Oops.” She preens, and her tone is thick with sarcasm.

“Knock it off,” the teacher says, and my stomach cramps again.

I stand up from my desk to grab my book, but Darian gets to it a second before I can.

“Oh my god, Violet! Your period is all over your pants!” Mindy shouts before bursting into laughter.

It’s then I feel the damp material of my panties and khakis against my skinas horror climbs up my body. Oh god, I haven’t gotten my first period yet, but that must have been why I was cramping.

Without thinking or grabbing my things, I run out of the classroom before I can burst into tears. There’s a bathroom down the hall, and I dash into a stall just as the tears start to flow down my face. There is no stopping them now, and I can’t think beyond what the hell I’m going to do. I ran out of the room without my bag, so I can’t call someone. I want the world to open up and swallow me whole.

I pop my head out of the stall and see no one is in here with me, and as I glance around the bathroom, my heart drops again. There’s nothing I can use to clean myself up or stop it from getting worse. I go back into the stall and cry some more as I try to come up with a plan. Can I sit here all day until the school clears out?

“Rosy?” Darian's voice calls my name, and I look at the closed stall door in shock. “I’m coming in.”

“That’s not allowed,” I hiss as I look around like something is going to give me the answer. What the hell is he doing here?

“Too bad.” I see his feet at the bottom of the stall and then my backpack drops to the floor next to him.

I see him place his jacket on top of it and then a pad on top of that, along with a few chocolate bars they keep in the vending machine. “I went to the school nurse's office and got you some stuff. You can tie the jacket around your waist or something until you get home.”

There’s a pause of silence and then I see his feet retreat from the stall and the bathroom door open and close. I sit there staring at the pile and then pull it to me like it’s a lifejacket in the middle of the ocean.

The first thing I do is text the head of our house, Elsa, that it’s an emergency and she needs to come get me. Then I grab the pad and put it on as I clean myself up the best I can. I don’t even have time to consider how mortifying this is because I’m so relieved that he showed up.

When I’ve finished washing my hands, I hesitate before I tie the jacket around my waist. I feel terrible, but the shame of walking out of here with my period showing is worse than ruining a jacket I can replace.


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