18
AIDEN
It’s safe to say that Katie is not a fan of my bike. She clung to me as we breezed down the motorway, her grip tightening with each passing second. She squealed as we rounded bends, and her body leaned heavily into mine for support. Instead of keeping her on it any longer than necessary, we stopped off at my house in Foxrock and changed the bike for the car. She is now in the passenger seat, bunched up and clutching her hands to her chest.
I risk a glance at her after pulling onto the motorway. “You ok, bug?”
“Fuck off.” Her voice is low, her eyes darting around the passing scenery. She’s fidgeting like crazy, stimming—nervous. I didn’t think the prospect of meeting my mother would be this overwhelming for her.
Reaching over, I gently squeeze her hand. “She’s going to love you.”
“I hate you.”
I snort, shaking my head, and catch her bringing her nailsto her teeth. Grabbing her hand, I place it on the gear stick under my own, squeezing it reassuringly. “It’s just going to be me, you, Robbie, and his boyfriend, Scott.”
“I don’t know these people,” she mutters, giving up on trying to wriggle her hand free and instead chewing the hell out of her lower lip.
“That’s why you’re going to meet them, bug, so you can get to know them.”
She finally pulls her gaze from the window and looks at me. “Your mam loves Éabha; she went to her wedding.”
I nod in agreement.
“She’s going to hate me.”
“She is not!” I insist, gently stroking her hand with my thumb.
“I’m awkward as fuck. I can’t keep eye contact; I say the wrong things.”
“You’re autistic; you can’t help it.”
“I’m so autistic I can’t even look myself in the eye! Have you seen my videos on TikTok? Awful. No wonder I have such a small following.”
She hates recording herself, but in this day and age, the only way to get your business known is through social media.
She has herself so wound up that there are tears in her eyes. I get that this is a big deal for her and she’s putting too much pressure on herself to try and be what she thinks my mother will want her to be. Her entire body begins to tremble, and I can feel the heat of her body dissipate. Her hand is already beginning to feel like ice, which is a trick in itself considering the car is warm and my hand is still covering hers.
She’s on the verge of having a full-blown anxiety attack, and I rack my brain for ways to try and calm her down.
“Here,” I pluck up the bottle of coke I picked up at the garage after leaving my house. “The sugar will help.”
She opens the bottle with trembling hands and takes a few sips, her breathing slowly starting to steady. I gently rub circles on her back, trying to both comfort her and get some heat into her; the tip of her nose has gone red. Anxiety will never fail to surprise me with how much of a physical toll it takes on someone.
“How about this?” I flip the indicator on and change lanes to merge onto the next exit. “We stay for dinner, and if you’re still uncomfortable after that, we can leave.”
“That’s rude…”
“So was Robbie interrupting happy hour, but you don’t see me complaining.” Probably because, despite the distraction, Katie still managed to suck the soul from my body. I can’t remember the last time I came so hard.
Her lips curve at the edges, as if she knows exactly what I’m thinking.
I reciprocated, of course, or at least I tried to. I went down on her like my life depended on it. She moaned, she shuddered, and her legs shook like she was a transformer in the middle of a power surge, and yet… I couldn’t get her to reach her climax. I tried everything I knew, every trick in the book, but it seemed like she was just out of reach. Katie tried to reassure me, all smiles, satisfied that she blew my fucking mind despite not being able to achieve orgasm herself.
I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: whatever prick put his hands on my girl is living on borrowed time because when I find out who did it, he’s getting flayed like a fish. He not only violated and traumatised my girl, but he took the ability to experience pleasure with another person away from her.Not only did he steal from her,he stole from me!
He stole the joy of watching her unravel.
He stole the glazed look of pure ecstasy that I long to see in her eyes.
