Her scent envelopes me, my stomach in knots as I wonder how long this will last. How long she’ll keep me around after she sees how bad I can really get with my neediness.
“Theo, stop. I can hear your thoughts a mile away. Today is going to be a good day, and I’m not going anywhere… well, unless we get caught. Then you’re on your own,” she says with a wink.
I laugh. “That won’t happen but thank you. The voices get too loud to ignore sometimes, especially when I’m stressed.”
Blake trails a hand down my cheek, stroking my beard softly. “I know. And that’s okay. I was wondering—” She cuts herself off, eyes darting away and a blush covering her cheeks.
I place a finger under her chin and bring her gaze back to me. “Hey, what is it?” I bend at the knees so my eyes are in line with hers.
“I’ve seen how hard you’re trying, Theo, and I want to be there for you. I want to understand what you’re going through. I want to know what your triggers are so I can stop myself from doing them, and I want to be able to step in and bring you back when they do happen. I’m not sure if it would work or if you’d want me to, I mean, I feel selfish just by saying all of this, but would you like me to come with you to see Mike?—”
I cut her off with a kiss, silencing her next words. Tears run slowly down my face, speechless at the thoughtfulness of this woman. I finally pull back and rest my forehead against hers. “You’d do that for me?” I ask, astonished at the empathy and compassion she’s showing me—I’m still not used to it.
“I care about you, big guy, so I want to do everything I can to support you. I’ll also have to work extra hard to make you see that those voices have no meaning here. They don’t hold any power over you. Only I do.”
My dick hardens. Her soft whispered innuendo, along with her validation of my feelings, makes me want to bend her over the kitchen table. I grip her hips, drawing her to me and rubbing myself against her stomach. Her echoing moan isn’t helping either.
“You’re needed,” Noah calls grumpily as he walks into the kitchen.
Cockblocker.
“I hate you,” I whine as Blake laughs and pulls away, heading for the back door.
“I’m going to go find Oscar and make sure everything’s ready. Later,” she says, smirking, and I give her one of my own.
My gaze follows Blake until she’s out of sight, and I let out the biggest sigh, pretty sure there’s hearts in my eyes.
I’m just as whipped as James.
Shaking my head, I tilt my head at Noah. “Everything good?”
He looks up from his phone, his eyes wide. “Yeah, why wouldn’t they be?”
“You sound guilty there, man. Something you wanna get off your chest?” I ask, crossing my arms and leaning against the sink.
“There’s nothing to say. Everything’s fine.”
“Hmm,” I hum noncommittedly, running a finger across my bottom lip. “I’m trusting you here, don’t fuck this up for me.”
Noah sighs, something so unlike him. “I won’t. Things are… complicated.”
“I don’t like the sound of that,” I reply, standing up straight, concerned.
“It’s all good.” Noah’s phone chimes, and he glances down at it. “I gotta take this.” He walks off, and an unsettled feeling hits me square in the chest.
What is he hiding?
Shaking the thought off because I need to head out to the party, I try to calm myself down using the grounding exercises Mike taught me. They’ve been helping—when I remember to do them—but I forgot this morning.
Taking a few minutes, I begin with my feet, clenching and then unclenching each part of my body until I reach the top of my head. Ithelps send my threat response into a more soothing rhythm. My panic is less than it was, now more in the background.
Show time.
I’ve been running around for the last hour, greeting guests as they walk through the back gate, presents in hand. Oscar has a stack the size of a football field in the corner, and that’s not including the gifts I got him or the ones the guys brought either. Little dude is one spoiled child, and I couldn’t be happier.
My anxieties settle as I stroll around. The parents are friendly, and no one asks questions about how Oscar’s dad showed up out of nowhere. My eyes track Blake as she moves to the fire pit, nibbling on her thumb. It’s a nervous habit she seems to have picked up, and it’s pretty cute.
“You’re drooling,” James murmurs, tongs in hand as he flips the meat on the barbecue.
