The ride home was quiet, all of us in our own thoughts as the car drove us back to the condo building. Monroe shifted slightly in the elevator, the file clutched tightly in his hand, and I wondered if he’d looked at it yet. The curiosity in me wanted to know, but I’d let him tell me when he was ready. When we found ourselves in front of our doors, Jude looked awkwardly between us before giving Monroe a fist bump.
“Later, Monroe.”
I dipped my head, communicating I’d be in shortly. Jude unlocked the door and went in, leaving us standing in the empty hallway. Distributing my weight from foot to foot, I realized I was the one now nervously shifting.
“That was an interesting dinner,” I blurted, apparently feeling the need to state the obvious.
Monroe observed me, assessing my statement. When he came to some form of conclusion, he smiled slightly, nodding to me. “Yeah. I can’t say I’ve ever had dinner with so much sexual tension in the room before.”
Blushing, I didn’t know how to answer his comment, so I shrugged. “Mr. Masters was out of line. If I was still Immy’s therapist… Shit,” I cursed, dropping my head at my slip up. Shaking it ruefully, I lifted it, a maniac smile taking over. “Can you believe that’s the first time in all the years I’ve been practicing therapy that I’ve ever slipped like that?” Rubbing my temples, I sighed. “I hope whatever is in the file can help you, Monroe. I’m tired, so I think I’m going to head in.”
The exhaustion had hit me, and I knew I was at my limit for dealing with things today. It had taken all of my emotional resources to stand up to Atticus and not slip back into the simpering woman I’d been with Brian. But now, I was done.
I needed a warm bath, some soft music, and a chance to block out all the other noise and focus on centering myself again. It had become my routine in the time period I was beginning to refer to as ‘no dick season’ in my head. It had been simpler in a way. Monroe’s warm palm cupped my cheek, lifting my face to his before I could move.
“Do you need anything, Lo?”
With one question, I melted. No one had ever asked me what I needed. Not my mother, not my ex-husband, not even friends. No one outside of work ever checked in with me to see what I needed, and even there, it was work-based, or the occasional ‘how are you dealing with everything?’ question. When you were the strong one, the one everyone went to for their emotional needs, you never got asked. Not in a real way, at least. There were the customary questions, those polite reflex ones, that left you feeling more empty than seen when asked.
Monroe saw me, though. He wasn’t asking if I needed help, leaving it open for me to say no. He wasn’t even tossing out a throwaway one to let him know if I needed anything. He’d point-blank asked what I needed. It was one of the sexiest things a man had ever asked me.
Deflating, my eyes fluttered closed as I let him hold my emotions with me at that moment. Standing there in the hallway, in my heels and sexy dress, I relaxed into his presence, letting someone under the mask. I hadn’t known I’d still been wearing it tonight. The facade had become so ingrained into who I was as a person, I no longer felt it on me until something forced me to take notice.
Opening my eyes, I wrapped my arms around his middle, falling into his embrace. This was what I needed—a hug.
Monroe hugged with his whole being, wrapping you in his embrace and cocooning you in his warmth. The power of a hug was a remarkable thing, and when someone did it well, it could make you feel like a different person afterward.
I let go of the fear and judgment. I let go of the worry. I let go of feeling like I had to have all the answers. I let go of so many things in that hallway on the 18th floor. But the most important thing was what I grabbed hold of. What I let in—hope.
It might have been a minute, it might have been ten minutes, hell, it could’ve been an hour. I didn’t know how long I stood, time slipping away as I let Monroe absorb my vulnerabilities as I soaked in his strength. I knew when I pulled away, though, that something significant had changed within me, and between us, for the better.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. I know I let you down when I pulled back despite my intentions not to do so. And while my reasons were honorable and what I needed to focus on,” he said, grinning, already seeing the arguments in my eyes of what I would say to defend him, justifying his behaviors for him. “It still hurt you. You were collateral damage in this war Britt has decided to wage, and I regret not being able to see that sooner. I know you don’t hold it against me, but I feel it’s just as important for me to say it. You’re amazing, Loren, and I want to be part of your life. If I hadn’t made it clear before, I’m making my intentions known now. We’ll figure everything out together. ”
He kissed my nose before he pulled away, stepping toward his door. I watched him, for some reason not wanting him to leave just yet. Monroe unlocked his condo, opening it, but stopped before he stepped through. “Thank you for the help with Levi. Can we get together for dinner again?”
“I’d like that.”
“Good,” he replied, beaming. “I’ll text you. I’ll cook this time.”
Nodding, I turned and entered my home, waving to him as we both shut the door. Leaning back against it, I smiled, releasing the tension even more. The bath still sounded nice, but I no longer needed it to decompress, Monroe’s hug having done wonders. Giddy, I laughed as I walked in and grabbed my phone off the counter. There were a few messages from Nicco and Sax, heating my cheeks. There was one from my mother, but I cleared the notification, not wanting her toxicity to sour my mood.
Heading to my room, I stopped briefly to let Jude know I was in, noticing how he seemed happier lately, too, since reconnecting with Imogen. I didn’t want to admit I’d been feeling the same, too scared of what it meant or how they could hurt me worse this time if they left.
When, the thought whispered.
Shaking it off, I prepared a bath, deciding to pamper myself. As I slipped under the water, I thought about Monroe’s hug. If it had been this rejuvenating and powerful, I wonder what else his hugs could do for my body? My cheeks heated as my core throbbed with need, and I wanted to be at the top of that sign-up sheet.
* * *
“How haveyour flashbacks been this week?” I asked my client. Jill had started coming to me a few weeks ago. The trauma and ordeal she’d witnessed was extensive, and she had a lot of work ahead of her.
“Not as bad. It helps to be at home now. It’s hard, though, when the oddest things trigger me. I’m finding new ones each week, it seems. It feels impossible at times like I’m never not going to hear his voice… or feel his touch.”
Nodding, I gave her a reassuring look. “It’s understandable it feels that way. You experienced something horrific, and triggers don’t always make sense. The brain catalogs everything in those moments, even if we’re not aware of them at the time. Without getting too technical, when the brain starts to experience similar things, they rear up. You could be doing something completely opposite of the traumatic event, but if it has a similarity, it’s triggered. Your brain does it as a way to protect you, throwing up the red flags, so you don’t get hurt again.”
Jill nodded, a look of contemplation on her face. “That makes sense. It helps me think about it as something my body is doing instinctively instead of not being able to hack it.”