“Because we wouldn’t have had a chance of meeting if you were throwing instead of catching.”
“You mean not catching.” A smile tips from his lips.
“You’re catching now.”
“Because of you. Because I trust you. And I want you to trust me,” he says, turning to face me, cupping my cheeks.
I nod, knowing he wants me to open up, and I will. Just not now.
“In all honesty, I’ve never trusted anyone like I do you. Maybe my dad… before…”
He doesn’t speak, instead he kisses me, gentle and reverent.
“We both need to get back. Thanks for giving up something for me. I know your clients need you as much as I do.”
I’m not easy to love or get to know. I pushed him away in college, not that he didn’t give me a reason, but still. I wasn’t ready to tell anyone my secret. Staying out of the limelight was the only way. And if I fell for Parker O’Ryan, everyone would know my secret.
“Thank you for saying that.”
“As much as I tease about it being the sex that fixed me, I know it’s more about pinpointing the cause of my anxiety and fear. You’ve shown me that I’m enough and I keepsaying to myself what you told me. ‘I’m like them. And they’re like me.’”
I smile. “I would bet that you’re better than them at being a receiver.”
He pecks me on the lips, chuckling. “I thought you were going to say better in the bedroom.”
“Well, I know they can’t be better than you at that,” I wink.
“And you’re not finding out,” he challenges.
“Why would I when I have the best O’Ryan?”
He rewards me with one more kiss and a flopping fish later, we throw it back into the water and walk back to the car, our fingers locked together.
The clinic feels colderwhen I walk in. Quieter. Jenna hands me the mail with a distracted smile.
Nausea ripples from my stomach, up through my throat at the envelope with no return address. I wait until I’m alone with both the inner and outer door closed.
I take my letter opener out of the drawer, acting like it’s the electric bill.
If you don’t tell him, I will.
My rib cage locks over my heart. The air is swept from my lungs. The past has caught up to me.
I realize whoever is sending these notes knows exactly where to aim. Who I’m with.
I’m being stalked.
The rest of the day is a blur, but something has changed. Not just fear. It’s more like awareness.
Every sound, sharper.
Every movement, noticed.
Every shadow, a question.
By the time I leave, the parking lot feels too open and exposed. With how tight I’m gripping my keys, I feel like I could crush a soda can. I scan the mostly deserted area. Cars, windows, people and the landscaping.
Nothing.
