“Apparently not,” I said.
I felt like I had more to say, but nothing came out. I was feeling a little bit confused and hurt by all of the thoughts running through my head, and as it was, it was probably best I head back now. Showering and getting the smell of oil and sex off me would probably take longer than I thought.
“Ready?” Zack said once he’d gotten dressed.
This time, he threw on his Black Reapers cut. The sight was…actually not as bad as I had feared. But the fact that I didn’t have that kind of visceral reaction in itself was a little unsettling. Why was I not disturbed or bothered by Zack wearing his Black Reapers cut after I’d told him to keep it off?
“Sure,” I said.
“You all right?”
I supposed my tone was not as subtle as I would have liked.
“Yeah, just tired.”
Zack could see I was bullshitting. I wasn’t even trying to hide that I was bullshitting. But with everything running through my head, I was in no position to talk. I just needed some time alone to make sense of this—to get some detachment.
“All right,” he said. “Let’s get you home then, Doc.”
The line made me chuckle. If nothing else, it was a point toward Zack.
It was just too bad that suddenly, my own insecurities made it difficult to feel like that point would have any long-lasting meaning.
