揊ee. It makes me sick that I wasn抰 there. I抦 so sorry.?
揗eyer, don抰. It抯 fine. It was?shocking. It sucked. I抦 not trying to downplay it. But it did not kill me. It didn抰 even seriously injure me. I just棑 I cross my arms and tuck my hands against my sides. 摋I just need to keep it in perspective. Take a day or two. We have a few days before the next show anyway.?I smile weakly at him. 揗aybe this will be the thing to finally help me kick the caffeine addiction.?
He groans. 揇on抰, Fee. Please don抰 fucking reduce this shit to a joke right now.?
揟his is what I do, Meyer. It抯 quite literally what I do. And I should be able to do it for myself sometimes if it抯 what I can give other people, too. I was attacked. I抦 not fucking stupid, I know what it was. I also know that I struck first using my own weapon and I don抰 know what the fuck is going on in that woman抯 life. I know that I purposefully worded things all for that shock-value laugh, and I knew it was a risk. I took it even further by pointing her out. I handed every ounce of my power over to one person, tonight, instead of doing my thing.?I blow out a breath. 揑t does not make it okay. But I抦 standing here just fine. And I抣l dismantle this whole thing as much as I want until I reduce it to some story that I can make into a bit or use at parties. If I want to.?
He looks at me then, and stands. 揥hat aren抰 you telling me??
I scoff. 揥hat do you mean??
揑 mean I can tell that you are shaken up but I don抰 think it抯 just to do with the coffee if you抮e already joking about it. I know you, Fee. Was there something else? Did she threaten you??
I turn away from him. 揟ell me, Fee. Please.?
I sigh, but don抰 turn back around. 揝he said that the one thing I got right was that the idea of me ever being anyone抯 mother was terrifying.?I choke out, throat burning.
I feel him approaching me, so I continue in a rush. 揗aybe she has a kid at home with some behavioral stuff and I struck a nerve. I don抰 know.?
揂nd with someone else, your joke might have been the thing to help them realize that they need to check in on their kid. Maybe that little shit抯 parent will take the teacher comments seriously and stop thinking the sun shine抯 out of their ass. Or at minimum, take a closer look just in case. It抯 a good bit, Fee. The only reason I didn抰 want you to do it was because I assume the worst of people and didn抰 want anyone complaining to the school. And sure, calling a kid a cunt is bound to upset someone. Not everyone has the same superior sense of humor.?
He tries to make the last part sound light, but I still feel defensive.
揑 changed it so it was referencing when I used to work as an aide.?I say, turning around and looking up at him, now.
揙h.?He blinks. 揥ell. That was smart.?
I nod, meekly.
揂t the end of the day, Fee, you抮e telling jokes. It抯 in the job description. No one knows what抯 true or not. No one knows that you抮e giving them?you, when you抮e up there. Sure, sometimes you put on a caricature of yourself, but you get what I抦 saying, right? Don抰 let them have you all the way.?
I nod again. 揑 know. I won抰?I won抰 tell it again, either. I don抰 need to.?
He inhales, his chest rising. 揑f you don抰 want to, then don抰. If you do, then fuck them. It抯 a good bit about how kids can bring out the best along with the worst in us. Do what feels true to you, though, don抰 let me or anyone else persuade you otherwise.?
揙kay,?I whisper.
揑抦 sorry that happened, Fee.?
I shrug. 揗e too.?
揇o you want to rest??
揧es.?
揇o you want me to go??
揘o. Please stay,?I respond, probably too firmly.
He nods silently, and I move past him to crawl into bed.
I watch him as he takes himself apart, then, piece by piece. First, with his shirt. I can抰 help but smile at how he carefully folds it and slips it into a bag I assume is for dirty laundry. So precise, and measured. So much forethought. I certainly didn抰 think to pack a separate bag for my dirty things even though I抣l need to do laundry occasionally over the next couple weeks. My travel clothes are still strewn over the nearest chair from when I changed earlier.
His shoulders are miles wide, the well-defined valley of his spine between them. Shadows play on the dips and swells, and I chew my lip wondering how many pens he might be able to store between those two blades. The sound of his belt slipping through the loops zips through me, my breath hitching. He turns and smirks when he catches my eye.
揓onesy, I抦 gonna need you to stop looking at me that way.?
揥hat way??
He ignores my feigned ignorance. 揃ecause this isn抰 a night that calls for a distraction. I don抰 want?I don抰 want us overshadowed by the other events of the night.?
揙kay,?I whisper, hoping the pout isn抰 obvious. But, he抯 right. I抦 depleted. I抦 sad. And ashamed, and angry, and confused. I don抰 want to be?this version of myself with him. Not in that way, tonight. I just want to find my rest with him tonight.
But then he slides his jeans off, folds them just as deliberately as his shirt before slipping them into the bag, and stands to his full height.
My gulp echoes in my ears.
He抯 a God underneath those unassuming layers. Absolute honed perfection. And the juxtaposition of the tiny, self-conscious tug he gives to the right side of his briefs somehow makes him that much more to me.
Mine, mine, mine, I think.
I don抰 know how I ever thought I could stand him being anything less. He抯 awash in the cool gray-green of the night shining through the window; marble-like if not for the twitch of his hands at his sides, and the roll of his jaw when my eyes make their way back up to his.
I slam my eyes shut when he makes his first stride my way, not trusting myself to not stare at more inappropriate places, effectively ruining any thoughts of rest I could hope to have, now or in the foreseeable future.
I feel him slide under the covers, his warmth caressing the backs of my thighs and making me grit my teeth against the urge to scoot closer.
揅an I hold you??he asks, and I nod, my face making a swish, swish against the pillow.
He wraps me up against him from head to toe, my back to his front.
God is not a woman, I think. At least not a sympathetic one, tonight. Because the feel of his warm, hard body against mine is almost enough to make me forget my better judgment.
He smoothes some of my hair down before tucking my head under his chin.
揑 wanted you in my arms when I said this to you so you couldn抰 turn away from it, Fee,?he whispers gruffly, his hold on me tightening. 揃ut, you will make an amazing, incredible mother one day.?I choke on an instantly thick inhale. 揧ou might not always have to deal with some of the less fun parts of it, but you抳e already played a mothering role in Hazel抯 life from the moment you slammed through the doors at Lance抯. You protect her, even when you抮e pushing her. You care. You teach. You抮e generous with your time and you抮e a fierce advocate for her in everything. No matter what happens with you and I, ever, I want you to know, again, that you抳e earned your place in her life. I think?I think her mother would have been ok with me telling you that.?
揟hank you,?I say through a sob, relief flooding through me at his words. I didn抰 realize how much I needed them. I close my eyes, a final few tears spilling through my lashes before sleep takes me.
29
NOW
MEYER
I抳e technically spent the night with Fee numerous times. There抯 always been a hallway, a guest bathroom, or a floor or two between us, though.
So, when I wake up at five with morning wood and a dead arm, I react to the sight and scent of her by panic-flailing my body out of the bed with all the grace of a reanimated corpse. I have no idea how it doesn抰 rouse her, but it抯 a testament to how tired she is that she manages to stay asleep through the shuffling.
I take care of my business and change into gym clothes before I look back at her one last time, still sleeping soundly. I clock the steady rise and fall of her chest, body curled tightly into itself. So quiet and delicate and unnervingly different from herself. It does nothing to quell the rage still floating through my system.
She rolls and the shirt rides up in the same movement that pushes the duvet down, revealing the slope of her bare hip. I smother a groan.
I scrape a palm across my jaw before I leave, closing the door as quietly as I can before I stomp my way to the elevator. I slap the button as I抦 hitting call on Clay抯 name.
揗eyer??he answers groggily.
揗eet me at the lobby Starbucks in ten.?I hang up, too agitated for niceties.
He has the good sense not to look annoyed when he strolls through the elevator doors. He looks like he抯 been expecting it.
He holds up a placating hand my way. 揗eyer棑