"I know." He doesn't argue, just watches me dress with something sad in his eyes.
When I'm fully clothed, I pause at the door, looking back at him. He's still naked, sitting on the edge of his bed, and he looks beautiful in the dim light.
"Thank you," I say. "For this. For everything."
"Always."
I slip out and shut the door behind me. The stairs feel endless with how badly my legs are shaking.
Back in my room, Max is waiting. He meows his judgment.
"Don't start," I tell him.
I lie on the bed and stare at the ceiling. My body feels different somehow, like something fundamental has shifted.
I just had sex with Jackson Anderson. And it was my choice.
For the first time in months, my body feels like it belongs to me.
15
JACKSON
The team bus pulls out of Hartford at 6 a.m., and I'm already missing her.
It's been two days since Maya came to my room. Two days since she took control, chose pleasure, and left me lying there wanting her to stay. We haven't talked about it, haven't been alone since. Just continued to pretend that everything's normal.
But nothing is anymore.
Now I'm on a bus headed to the airport for a two-game road trip to Boston, and all I can think about is the way she looked riding me, the way she cried, the way she took her body back.
The bus is quiet this early. Half the team's asleep, the other half nursing coffee and staring at phones. Chase is across the aisle with headphones in and eyes closed. Jenkins is snoring in the back.
We reach the airport in thirty minutes. The routine is automatic—unload gear, check in, security, gate. I grab coffee and a breakfast sandwich I barely taste, then we're boarding.
I take a window seat. Chase drops in beside me.
"You good?" he asks. "You've been quiet."
"Just thinking about the game."
"Bullshit. You've got that look."
"What look?"
"The look guys get when they're thinking about a girl." He grins. "Who is she?"
"There's no girl."
"Right. And I'm not terrible at face-offs." He leans back. "Whoever she is, she's got you twisted up."
I don't respond because he's right, and I can't tell him why.
I pull out my phone before we take off.
Me
How's therapy going?
