Dr. Longo is helping. This is just a trigger to my trauma. This will happen.
I repeat those things to myself as I take deep breaths. One after the other, I fill my lungs full of air and exhale until I feel calm enough to drive. Before I start the car, my phone rings. I scramble to answer and smile immediately when I see it’s Edie.
I love Edie; I really honestly do.
“Hi, Edie,” I say, running my hand under my nose for good measure.
“What’s wrong?” she asks immediately, sensing the change in my voice. “You sound upset.”
“I ran into someone from the Brutes. I don’t even know what she’s doing here in Oakcreek; I didn’t even ask,” I take a breath. “She worked for me. I never said goodbye to anyone, you know?”
Edie pauses. “Come to our house for dinner tonight. Come over here right now,” she insists, and tears wet my cheeks as I smile. She brings light to the dark parking lot.
“Edie, I can’t. Atticus and I aren’t—”
She doesn’t let me explain that we’re trying to kind of figure things out for a bit without physical contact. Because the truth is, I cannot be around her son without wanting to tear his clothes off and hump his brains out.
“You’re my friend, aren’t you?” she asks.
“Yes, Edie, I’m your friend,” I grin at her tactic.
“Well, I’m allowed to have friends over. Harry said it was okay.”
I snort at that. The entire Winters family makes me happy. “Well, if you’re sure. And ifhe’snot there.”
“Nonsense, he won’t be here. Or if he does, he’ll be in and out. No time for sizzling eye contact,” she reassures teasingly, and my cheeks burn.
“Edie!”
“Alright, come over. You and I are makin’ lasagna.”
My mouth waters, my stomach growls, and the feeling of sickness and despair is gone.
And I don't know if it’s from Edie’s warm heart, the idea of homemade lasagna, or the slim chance I’m going to feast my eyes on Atticus soon, but I feel… weightless for the first time ever. And it feels so good.
* * *
When I getto Edie’s place, Atti isn’t there. Because if he were, that would give me the opportunity to bail and completely bypass a night full of female blue balls. Blue clit? Is that a thing?
If so, I have it.
Because Atticus decided to show up when I was knuckles deep in lasagna noodles, putting in work on the layers as Edie directed me.
I couldn’t run.
And now he’s standing in the doorway, his arm propped above his head on the frame as he leans forward for the last forty minutes. Just talking to his Mom about everything. This is their typical catch-up. He tells her about his week, going into some detail about his chest workout and hitting a bench press goal. And all the while, she follows along, not just listening but understanding and recognizing achieved goals. And my stomach clenches in happiness, seizes in raw jealousy, and tumbles… from puppy love. I’m so envious of them and so happy for them too.
And my romantic side is a welcome distraction considering my vagina is completely misbehaving. I’m clenching and releasing, teasing myself with pulsing, orgasmic sensations that tiptoe the line of pleasure without ever quite getting there.
Essentially, I’m edging myself, and I’m going utterly fucking mad.
I’m in the midst of my erotic Kegels when Edie kicks me under the table. But there’s no tablecloth or covering, so Atti’s eyes flick down, and his lips twitch with a smirk before easily going back to stoic. My stomach clenches, but this time, it’s fromoverwhelming like.
I just like him so much.
He’s texted me every fucking day and night and left me things on my porch and car, and always, always respected that I needed time. We agreed without even having any weird conversations. It’s like we both just knew what we needed and started giving it. Maybe it’s our age; we’re too worn out and tired to fuck around. We need truth and a path to walk, and we’re doing it now.
I hope.