“I don’t,” he answers without hesitation and he’s adamant. With both his hands on his knees, he leans forward in the seat across from me, shaking his head slightly while maintaining eye contact. “He’s my friend and …” he pauses, glancing away and trapping his bottom lip between his teeth before seemingly deciding what to say next.
With a deep breath in, he continues, “I have no issues with you engaging in sexual activity.” I’ve never felt such a guard rise between the two of us. Him considering my relationships and whether they’re a concern for him creates an unnatural tension that Damon doesn’t seem to notice. The only person who should be concerned about who I’m fucking is me. With my fingers tangling together in my lap, I gather my composure. I know his concern is only for my mental health. I know it, yet I struggle with him being involved at all with that part of my life. Zander is mine. It is irrelevant what anyone thinks of us and our relationship. He wants me and I want him. That is all that matters.
Damon’s voice, no longer droning, comes back into focus when he says, “I noticed an immediate change for the better when you two began your relationship. I spoke to Zander at length last night. He’s updated me on any essential information.”
My heart skitters knowing Damon spoke to him, but I haven’t. My cell phone sits on the coffee table and I hesitate before picking it up only to find that I still have no messages. To date, the only person to text me or call me on this ancient brick with no camera or apps has been Kam.
“Please know I only asked what was required professionally.”
“Hmm?”
“When I spoke to Zander,” he clarifies and I absently nod, not liking the knots that sit in my stomach. “There is no judgment from me.”
“It certainly feels like there’s judgment,” I comment, staring back at his umber gaze.
There’s a moment, a tick of time between us before Damon tells me, “My only concern was how quickly things changed.”
If only he knew how I slowly unraveled since the moment I first saw Zander. How I felt myself come undone for him before he ever touched me. I question confiding in him, so instead I remain silent.
“How do you feel right now?” he asks.
“Angry.” My response is immediate and my throat tightens with it.
“Angry … What size, would you say? A little irritated anger?”
“Enraged,” I answer, staring down at my hands.
“You don’t seem enraged,” Damon responds carefully, like he’s testing me.
A well of emotions dries out my throat even further. “Sad … scared.”
Damon nods as I answer. “And why’s that? What triggered those emotions?”
I put myself in this position. I’m in this place because of what I’ve done. Tears leak from my eyes and as I wipe them away, refusing to be overwhelmed by them, the back door opens.
Kam pauses when my eyes meet his. His black T-shirt and worn black jeans initiate a smart-ass side of me, as well as a piece still bitter from Kam’s betrayal. “Feeling down today?”
I don’t miss Damon’s ever-watchful gaze as I pull myself together and then stare up at Kam, who glances between Damon and myself.
“Are you?” Kam turns my question back at me. “Am I interrupting?” Kam asks Damon and I’m quick to answer, “No.”
I can’t look either of them in the eye.
“Just one minute if you don’t mind,” Damon says, then looks between the two of us and Kam nods, slipping his hands into his pockets as he walks to the edge of the paved patio. With a deep inhale I let go of everything, every wave that threatened to drown me just a moment ago.
“A little homework?” Damon’s voice is gentle and low, far too soft for Kam to hear.
“Homework?” I offer him a smirk but then nod, closing my eyes and preparing for whatever it is that Damon wants.
“When you feel overwhelmed or uncomfortable or like you’re losing control, like what happened just now,” he says without judgment, yet my eyes whip up to his, “I want you to ask yourself, what emotion is it? Take control of those emotions that make you uncomfortable. Because you long for that, don’t you? Control over those emotions?”
I can only nod. I don’t want them to control me. In this moment I know he understands. Damon understands. The moment he leans back in his seat, it’s like a spell has broken and Kam’s footsteps can be heard nearing us.
“Are you all right?” Kam’s question comes from a place of concern and I shrug.
“A wreck like always,”I tell him.
“You’re never a wreck.” Kam consoles me, taking the chair next to Damon and when Damon begins to stand, Kam asks him to stay.