“You’re my first.”
“Shocking.”
Lily elbows me in the side, and I can’t tell if it’s because of my sarcasm or because I called her Allison. The therapist stays unblinking, already mastering that complacent face and cool exterior. She could give Connor Cobalt a run for his money.
“Why don’t you tell me how it’s been since you moved home?” Allison asks me.
“About sex or in general?”
Lily turns a bright shade of red and slumps in her seat. I’m more comfortable talking about fucking, not because I have a dick or because she’s shy—even though she kind of is—but because I’m not the sex addict. I don’t feel ashamed about sex. She does.
I raise my arm to her shoulders, and she eases into my body a little, relaxing more.
“Either one,” Allison tells me. Her eyes flicker between Lily and me with rapt attention now. She’s definitely going to pick apart every single movement we make. “You decide.”
Lily opens her mouth, but I cut her off on purpose. I don’t want her to dodge the subject. “We had sex a few days ago,” I confess. Explaining my inability to be with Lily without arousing her—well, it feels like walking through quicksand. And so I purposefully keep it short, direct, to the point. She doesn’t need to know the messy details.
Like how she couldn’t wait until the night. How, after an hour, I had to pry myself off her to stop. She was satisfied, but with Lily, it’s a momentary fulfillment. It leaves the second she wishes to feel a climax again. I wanted to fuck her as much as she wanted to be fucked, but I had to watch her face crumble as she realized that was it.
For the first time, I’m looking at the bigger picture—the future—but Christ, no one ever mentioned how I’d have to endure preliminary pain to get there.
“You had sex a few days ago,” Allison repeats. “What exactly happened?”
“I put my penis in her vagina.” Embarrassment and remorse swim with the black tar in my chest. My filter—it’s permanently on the fritz. I think my father must have busted it one night. But not with his fists. He’s too civilized for that.
Lily lets out a laugh, which makes me feel a little better.
“Not anatomically,” Allison clarifies. “Did you only have missionary? How long did it last? What time of day? And how did it end? What were your feelings afterwards?”
So many fucking questions, but I take them one at a time. “Only missionary. It was about seven o’clock.”
Lily immediately reddens at the time of day.
My eyes narrow, knowing full well that I just got caught by Lil’s ability to turn into a cherry.
“It’s best if you don’t lie,” Allison tells me.
“It was around three,” I say with a shrug. “She couldn’t wait until later, but she did hold out until we got home.”
Allison nods. “That’s really good, Lily.”
She brightens a little at the compliment, and I squeeze her shoulder, realizing that my words don’t hold the same power as her therapist. To hear a professional say, “You’re doing good,” must be a relief.
I wouldn’t know, really. Even though I learned a lot, most of the people at rehab wanted me out of there. And my therapist stares at me like I’m a world-class fuck up. And Ryke—well, compliments from him aren’t worth much. He’s trying to make amends for being absent in my life, for leaving me alone with a father that he knew ranked low on the World’s Best Dad chart.
“And what happened afterwards?” Allison asks.
“I pulled away from her,” I say, “but she tried to keep going. I ended up just holding her in my arms until she fell asleep.”
The brief happiness in Lily’s eyes begins to flicker out, replaced by silent humiliation once more.
“You didn’t fall asleep with her?”
I frown. “What does it matter if I did or didn’t?” I don’t understand how this pertains to Lily. I shift on my seat, and Lily turns her attention to me. I don’t like that at all.
“You have a problem too,” Allison says, “and your addiction will affect her. It already has.”
I cut her off. “I get it. I should stay away from her. I should say goodbye and let her have a fighting chance.”
