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Honestly, I wasn't sure last night, how the next morning would turn out. I was hoping to avoid any and all awkwardness between us after we'd had sex. It turned out that I was silly to think there'd be any awkwardness between us at all. Everything seemed so natural, so at ease and comfortable. It surprised me.
“Then it's a date,” he said, kissing my hand before letting it go.
“It's a date,” I said, feeling giddy, my heart pounding in my chest.
He threw on some pants and walked me out to the front door, giving me one last kiss before saying goodbye.
“Thank you, again, Marcus,” I said. “For not thinking of me like a child. I promise, you won't regret it.”
“I'm never going to regret what happened,” he said.
Suddenly, I saw something in his eyes that I couldn't quite place. There was something about the way he looked at me that filled me with an indescribable warmth that seemed to come out of nowhere. It wasn't merely a passing glance between two fuck buddies. There was more to it. There was a depth and intensity there. If only I had time to hang out, to see what came from all of it, to see what he was thinking about.
But I had to get going.
“Good,” I said. “Because I won't either.”
Reluctantly, I made my way home from Marcus' house. I walked through the patio door and into the family room with a smile on my face and amazing memories scrolling through my head. As I turned around though, I felt my heart stop cold in my chest. Adrenaline shot through me and my eyes grew wide. I wasn't alone. Sitting on the sofa was my father. He was watching me with a look of barely controlled fury in his eyes.
“Where have you been, Emma?” he asked.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
MARCUS
“Since our last appointment, I did what you suggested and signed us all up for surfing lessons,” I said.
I felt a sense of pride coursing through me as I announced my progress to Dr. Miller. And as flashes of my night with Emma scrolled through my head, I felt a sense of lust shoot through me, making my jeans a little tighter in the crotch.
Dr. Miller smiled politely, looking pleased. “How'd that go?”
“It's going well, I suppose,” I said. “Two lessons in so far. Zoey loves it, as I suspected. Zack was hesitant at first, but he's starting to come around.”
“That's excellent. And you?” he asked me. “How do you feel about it?”
“Honestly? I just watched the first lesson,” I said. “The girl who teaches the classes is an old friend – my neighbor actually, and if I'm being completely honest, I was afraid to look like a fool in front of her, so I declined to participate and just watched the first time out. But the kids managed to convince me to try the next time around. It wasn't as bad as I thought, but I'm still struggling a bit with the idea of looking like a complete idiot in front of Emma.”
“But you'll keep going?” he asked me.
“I figured we would,” I said with a shrug. “But it's going to get very complicated from here on out.”
Dr. Miller arched an eyebrow as he looked at me. “Oh? How so?”
I knew I needed to talk about what was happening with Emma, but I didn't know how to bring it up without embarrassing myself. It was crazy because she was a consenting adult and I knew Dr. Miller likely wasn't going to judge me for my relationship with her, but I was still afraid that he might. I knew it was all in my own head, but I couldn't stop feeling like a dirty old man. I was a cliché and didn't want to admit that I slept with the babysitter, but there were some complex feelings going on below the surface that I needed to talk about.
Like guilt. Guilt that I'd taken advantage of Emma. And guilt that I'd somehow been unfaithful to Gina. Rationally, I knew that my feelings were silly and unfounded. But my emotions rarely operated on the rational level.
So, I decided to suck it up, judgment from Dr. Miller or not, and lay all my cards on the table.
“Well, the instructor, my neighbor, her name is Emma, and we've been intimate,” I said.
My doctor raised an eyebrow, looking surprisingly even more pleased with things. “That's good,” he said. “I know you've struggled with the idea of being intimate with women in the past, so this is a good sign. It's a sign of forward movement. Progress. It tells me that you're starting to get yourself unstuck from the past.”
He looked at me and I felt like a bug pinned to a board beneath his scrutiny. I couldn't meet his gaze and I felt the heat and color rushing into my face.
“What is it, Marcus?” he asked. “You seem to be struggling with something.”
“I just, well, I can't help but feel bad about it,” I said. “A little guilty, to be honest.”
