“I can take you home,” I offer as I round the bed looking for my jeans.
“No.” Her head shakes. “I can get there on my own.”
She needs space. I’ll give it to her. I’d be an asshole not to.
I slide my jeans up before I turn back to face her.
Christ.I don’t want this to be awkward. I want this to be our beginning. I don’t give a shit that I didn’t get a release out of this. I got something better. I watched her splinter. I saw the way her lips parted. I felt her come on me.
That’s better than any fuck I’ve ever had.
I have no idea where her mind is, so I ask a question I need an answer to. “I’ll see you again, right?”
If she says no, I’ll drop to my knees and beg. I’ll crawl after her if I have to.
“Yes,” she answers with a subtle dip of her chin. “Maybe this week?”
“Tomorrow,” I spit out before I consider what I’ve got going on.
“I can’t.” She shrugs. “I have an appointment with Audrey tomorrow night to go over the order for her wedding flowers.”
I should tag along on that, but I don’t need Audrey to know that Athena and I are seeing each other. She’s a friend of Wren’s. I don’t want the complication.
I have appointments that run late on Thursday, so I opt for the first available day. “Friday?”
“I can do Friday,” she affirms with a smile.
“I’ll cook something,” I say without thinking.
I doubt she’s going to be impressed with scrambled eggs and bacon or a toasted bagel.
Adjusting the waist of her dress, she glances at me. “I’d like that, Liam. Should I bring anything?”
“Just you,” I answer quickly. “I’ll see you on Friday at seven, Athena.”
A faint smile crosses her lips as she heads out of my bedroom.
I glance back at the bed. Tonight I only got a taste. On Friday, I hope I get more.
Four appointments filled my afternoon,but I’m only rounding the homestretch. The finish line is still hours away.
My Wednesday has been spent counseling folks who found their way to me after they lost someone that mattered to them.
I’ve never known two people who journey through grief the same way. Some can’t put one foot in front of the other, while others plaster on a brave face and barrel through their lives, ignoring the pain that is strapped to their backs.
I do what I can for every single person who sits across from me.
When I started this job I was confident that I could make a difference in the world. My impact may not be as far-reaching as I thought it would be, but I’m doing what I can to guide people toward a future where the pain finds a place it can settle without overwhelming everything else.
I approach my office door when I hear Audrey calling my name.
When I round the corner into the corridor, she’s on the approach with her hands waving in the air.
“Tell me that you’re free on the last Saturday of next month.”
“You tell me if I am.” I cross my arms over my chest. “Winola gives you the schedule to send out.”
We’re only open two Saturdays a month, and I usually land one half-day shift. Winola likes to work weekends since some of her high profile clients slip in to see her.
