The Arrangement 6 (The Arrangement 6)

I finally say, “I have no idea where to start, so I’ll just jump in. The hookers bother me. I don’t understand why you still need that.”

Sean nods and looks straight ahead. The wind ruffles his hair, tossing it every which way. “That’s a good place to start. I don’t like you sleeping with other guys, but it’s something you have to do. It’s how I ended up with you. I wish you’d stop, but I can’t ask you that. I know what it means if you do. I know what you’d be giving up.” Sean glances over at me. “I don’t…” He presses his lips together and starts over. “I need them, the nameless faces, because it’s the only way I can deal with the pain. When it’s too much, I call. I take control back—”

“By having sex with strangers—”

“By dominating another person. By controlling them so thoroughly that I’m distracted from my life. Fear makes sense to me. They should be afraid of me.” Sean’s eyes glaze over as he speaks. He’s breathing hard, like memories he wants to forget are pounding into him.

I stop walking. Sean slows and looks back at me. “That’s why you can’t do it with me? Because…” I’m not a stranger, because he knows me.

“You’re not afraid of me. I know you and I want to make you happy, not scared.” Sean tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. I’m lost in his gaze, in his voice. I hate this. I wish he’d take me in his arms and let the past go. I don’t realize it until the thought fully forms in my mind.

I laugh. “I’m a hypocrite. I was with someone last night and you didn’t even ask me about it.” I groan and rub my face with the heel of my hand.

“You’re not wrong to ask about my, uh, preferences. It says something about me. And I’d like to know what you did, and who you did, but I don’t think I could bear hearing the details. I don’t want to share you and the thought that Thomas has had you twice—” Sean’s fists clench at his sides and he lets out a rush of air. “I can’t even think about it.”

I smile at him. I didn’t notice before, but I see it now. “You’re jealous?”

“Jealous is an understatement. I want you for myself, but I don’t want to hurt you. You’re already hurting so much. You’ve become an enigma, and I don’t know what to do about it.”

We walk over to the railing and look out at the waves. “Then, maybe we shouldn’t do anything.”

Sean is leaning forward on the rail, but when I speak he straightens and turns toward me. “You want to go our separate ways?”

“Maybe,” I say weakly. “We survived apart for a long time. Ever since we met, it feels like everything is spinning out of control.” I laugh bitterly. “I can’t tell you how many times I thought about trying to be what you need, about letting you do whatever you wanted to do to me.” I stare at my fingernails like they’re fascinating.

Sean is still. He’s barely breathing. “You have?”

I nod, then smile like it’s a stupid idea. “We can’t go there, can we? I mean, that place isn’t for us. And it doesn’t matter what I offer you, you’ll still need that control. I don’t see how it would work anyway. Even if I let you do it once or twice and we have sex that way, that’s all you have with me, once or twice. After that, I won’t be as freaked out. I’ll know what you’re going to do and you won’t get your, uh, reprieve.” When I finish talking, I look up at him.

Sean’s lips are parted. He looks so torn. I think he’s going to say something, but he turns back to the railing and leans on it. Sean squeezes his hands together, wringing them tightly. “I can’t believe you thought about doing that for me.”

“I would have, I just don’t see the point. It won’t last, and then what? Then, we’re back here asking the same questions with the same problems. I’ll still be a call girl and you’ll still be ordering my friends to give you what I can’t. It sucks.” I swallow the rest of my coffee and toss the cup in a wastebasket that’s on the other side of Sean.

When I reach past him, my arm brushes his and he jumps. Sean steadies himself and closes his eyes for a second. “It sounds like you’ve already made up your mind.”

“Part of it, yeah. I shouldn’t see you anymore.”

“But…?”

“But I can’t stay away from you. I know what you’re talking about with the pain becoming unbearable. The only thing that breaks it for me is you. Something about you makes me feel like I might pull through even though, I’m inches away from a crash. It’s stupid, but—”

He puts his hand over mine. “It’s not stupid. I know exactly what you mean.”

Looking into his eyes, I ask, “So what now? I’m not okay with you doing other girls.”

Sean tosses his coffee into the trash can. Then he puts his hands around my waist and tugs me to him. Our hips line up and press into each other. He tilts his head to the side. “I’m not okay with you being with other guys. How far did you go the other night? Can you tell me? Will you tell me?”

I smile softly. This is my Sean. This is the one I want, the imperfectly perfect version that’s vulnerable. “Will I tell you? Do you really want me to?”

He nods. His eyes are locked on mine. Sean swallows hard, watching me, waiting for an answer that he doesn’t want to hear. He leans in and presses his forehead to mine. “Please, Avery, tell me. Not knowing is worse than knowing.”

I take a deep breath and put my hand on his shoulder. “Are you sure you want to know?”

Sean looks up from under his lashes. He presses his lips to mine for a second and nods. “Yes.”

This is the weirdest conversation I’ve ever had. It’s like he’s asking me to hurt him, but some of his assumptions are wrong. I lower my gaze. My voice is soft. “We kissed, he touched me—ran his hands over my body—and saw me in the outfit you picked out.” Sean is so tense, but he doesn’t speak. He continues to look at me like I’m slipping away from him. “Should I go on?”

“Yes.” His jaw locks after he says the word.

“He kissed my neck and my breasts before he…” I’m breathing too hard. I can’t tell him this stuff. It looks like it’s killing him. The pain on his face makes me cut to the last part. “Sean, he hasn’t had me yet.”

He blinks like he couldn’t have possibly heard me right. “What?”

“Henry likes me. He wanted to ask me out, but since I’m working for Black—”

“He can’t.”

“Right, so he ordered me. I didn’t have sex with him, yet.”

“Yet?”

I nod. “He wants me again. I’ll end up having sex with him this weekend. It’s what he wants.”

Sean holds me closer. “What do you want?”

“It doesn’t matter what I want, I don’t—“

“Tell me. Do you want him? Would you choose to be with him? He’s a good man. He’s everything I’m not. He’d be good to you, Avery.”

I smile at him. “I don’t want Henry. I want you. The thing is, I can’t get all of you. There’s a piece you won’t give, something you won’t share. Without that, I don’t see how we can be anything to each other.” I thread my fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck and twirl a lock of his hair.

Sean smiles, but it’s brief. He closes his eyes and just breathes for a moment. “You’re the only other girl at Black’s that will do anything?”

“Yes, but—”

“Then I’m ordering you this weekend. We can try it, maybe.”

“Are you sure you’re not just trying to keep me away from Henry?”

He grins. “That’s an added bonus.”

CHAPTER 6

The next morning I’m sitting in the center of the classroom in Psych. I’m in a chair and another student, one I don’t really know, is sitting across from me with a pen and paper in her lap. Our instructions are to practice the practical application of the techniques we learned during the semester.

I slouch back in my chair. Butterflies swirl in my stomach. I hate being in front of everyone. The other fifty or so students lean forward and get ready to watch. We’ll be practicing basic counseling responses for the next three days. Case one, Avery Stanz. Good thing no one knows how screwed up I really am. I’m wondering if this girl will be able to pull down my walls and get at what makes me tick. I doubt it. I fold my arms across my chest. I’m the poster child for uncooperative participant.

The professor, Dr. Pratz, is standing in front of us. He’s a tall slender man who’s nearly bald save some white hair around his temples. He’s wearing a Polo shirt and a pair of kakis. The soles of his shoes are worn through and the man is wearing different colored socks. Sometimes I wonder if he does stuff like that to see if we notice, because those of us going into this field need to notice and figure out what it means.

Dr. Pratz is addressing the class, explaining the order of the practicum. “Avery and Emma will have five minutes to talk. Emma’s job is to guide the conversation to help Avery recognize her feelings on whatever subjects come up. During this exercise if either of you uncover a landmine, then the conversation will end. The purpose of this assignment is to help your client identify their emotions. That’s it.” He turns to us. “You have five minutes. Go!” He presses a button on the side of his watch and sits down on an empty seat in the front row.

Emma is nervous. She has light brown hair that she tucked behind her ears. She has on jeans and a pink sweater with pearl earrings. I don’t think we’d get along by the looks of her. Emma looks like someone who has an easy life. I can see it in her eyes.

Emma’s sitting at the edge of her chair. She shifts in the seat and looks up at me, flashing an anxious smile. “So, Avery, tell me how you’re doing today.”