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“Easy for you to say,” I said. “You have trauma because you saved people, whereas I have trauma because my daddy didn’t love me enough.”
“Don’t be flippant. Your pain isn’t insignificant, so never think it is.” He planted another stunning short kiss on my lips. “Just try it out, okay?”
“Ezra—” I was going to say no, but I didn’t get the chance. Because he planted a kiss on my lips again, one that turned heated the more we stood there, my body burning and trembling for him.
By the time he pulled back, my mind was too scrambled to say much more than, “Uh huh.”
* * *
The therapist appointmentwasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. We spent most of the first session getting to know each other, and she let me know that we could go at whatever pace I wanted. She was a sweet-looking older lady with a knitting basket on her desk and a row of cat photos on her wall. She spent most of our introduction time explaining about her cats, their names, and all their mannerisms. Strangely enough, her overall oddity put me at ease.
I did eventually broach the topic of my insomnia, and rather than digging too deep, she suggested some coping mechanisms first. She coached me through breathing exercises and told me to try them the next time I felt a panic attack coming on. I told her I would try it out, and overall, it was not a horrible first session.
After that, I went for my shift at the restaurant, and by the end, I was physically exhausted and emotionally drained. I just wanted to go over to Brenda’s and relax, but the minute I got there, I heard loud music and saw about a dozen people walking through her living room.
Oh, what fresh hell is this?
I entered and immediately wanted to leave. The din was deafening, and I didn’t know anyone there. I was irritated, but I told myself it was not fair for me to tell Brenda not to have parties in her own home.
I just wished she would have given me a warning first.
I wove through bodies, heading to the kitchen to get some water before I headed upstairs for the night.
But when I got to the kitchen, I almost wished I didn’t.
Because Brenda was in the kitchen, but she was not alone. She was making out with Mateo, the two of them violently kissing as Mateo squeezed her ass, and she clutched his shoulders. I must have made a sound because they instantly spun around to stare at me.
Mateo reacted first, his eyes widening in horror. He jumped away from Brenda and tucked his hand behind his back.
“Babe, it’s not what it looks like,” he said automatically, for reasons I didn’t know.
“Babe?” Brenda nearly tipped over the counter as she got to her feet. Anger glinted in her expression. “I thought you told me you two broke up.”
“We did,” I explained, finally recovering from the shock. “And you don’t have to apologize, Mateo. You’re not doing anything wrong. I just came to get some water before heading up.”
“You’re not staying for the party?” Brenda asked.
I shook my head. “No, Brenda, I’m exhausted. I wouldn’t have even come over if I knew you were going to throw a party.”
At my words, Brenda’s face twisted. “Oh, excuse me, your highness? Was I supposed to ask your permission? You know, just because you have mental problems doesn’t mean you have to make it everyone else’s problem.”
Her tone set me on edge, and I figured it was time to exit. “Okay, Brenda. It’s fine. I’m just going to head up.”
“Wait, babe.” Mateo caught my arm before I could leave. “Please let me explain—”
“You don’t have to explain anything,” I told him. “We’re not dating.”
“Yes, but I…I love you, babe, and I… This thing with Brenda is a mistake.” Tears filled his eyes, but I was distracted by the look on Brenda’s face. It was a look of betrayal, then pure rage.
“Wait,” she gasped. “Have you two been screwing around behind my back?”
“What?” The thought of it was so ridiculous that I almost laughed. “No. Why would I do that?”
“Oh, you’re pathetic,” Brenda snapped. “You just want everyone to love you, don’t you? Your neighbor, Brick, and Mateo.” She walked over to me, her eyes gleaming menace. “You’re a greedy emotional person who can’t stand when things aren’t about you.”
Her words pierced painfully through my chest, and before I knew it, I was responding in like, saying, “See, you say that, but here you are fucking my leftovers.”
Brenda’s eyes widened with outrage. And then she screamed and launched herself at me.
