Lucky This Isn't Real

The movie ended, and I sat up with a start, realizing that I had already been dozing on his shoulder. He kissed me, bringing me immediately to full consciousness.

“I should go to bed,” I said with a yawn and a stretch.

“Yeah, baby!” he said, doing his best attempt at an Austin Powers impression.

I laughed and gave him a playful swat.

“I mean for sleep. I promised my therapist that I’d work on my sleep routine. Apparently, it’s vital for living a healthy life.”

“Truthfully, I’ve always thought therapy was a bit of a scam. Better to go to the pub and talk to the bartender. Less expensive and about as effective.”

My eyebrows shot up at that remark.

“Really? What were you doing at the professional building then, smart guy?”

“Seeing my lawyer about getting my work visa extended. It was a lot easier after I got contracted on to the show. The producers were quite keen to keep me in the country.”

“My therapist is quite good, really,” I said, feeling very bristly and defensive.

“Really?” Gavin asked, cocking an eyebrow.

“Yeah, I mean, she’s not at all like the stereotype. For starters, she’s French. Listening to her is actually pretty relaxing. And she really knows her stuff. Like, I think she reads neurology journals and is familiar with all the current research. It isn’t some silly dream interpretation crap. She really tries to help, like on a deep level.”

“Whoa, okay, sorry.” He held his hands up. “I didn’t mean that all therapists are con artists. It isn’t really right for me, but if it helps you, then, of course, you should do it.”

“You don’t need to talk to anyone about anything?” I asked.

“Not anything that I would want to,” he said cryptically.

I couldn’t help but feel like a bit of a weak loser, having to see a therapist for my problems, which he only knew the surface of.

No one really knew about my dad. Not even Dr. Benoit. Not really. I’d mentioned him once or twice but never went into detail.

“I admire people who can open up,” Gavin said, smoothing my hair behind my ear. “That’s never really been me, though.”

He didn’t say any more on the subject, but I could sense the hurt under his words. Like there was something much deeper that he wasn’t telling me.

Not that I was one to talk about deep, dark secrets. I wondered if maybe his family was as screwed up as mine.

“Let’s get you off to sleep, then,” he said, scooping me up and carrying me into his bedroom. “Therapist’s orders.”

His bedroom was also huge and nicely decorated with track lighting illuminating the entire area. I held onto him as he carried me over to his bed.

“Therapy can be really helpful,” I explained again as he lowered me onto the bed.

He shrugged and gently pulled off my shirt, unveiling my bare boobs. I instinctively covered them as he took down my yoga pants.

“I—”

“Lie back and relax,” he said.

I obeyed, lying down on my back, stiff as a board, wondering what he had planned for me. Part of me wanted to fuck again but I really did need to sleep.

“Turn around.”

I obeyed, wondering if he was going to try anal. It was a notion that filled me with both excitement and fear, so much so that I softly trembled.

As soon as his hands touched my back, his intentions were made clear, and I relaxed, releasing a soft sigh as he lovingly massaged me, not even trying to touch me anywhere but on my back and my neck.

It only took a few minutes before I found myself drifting off to sweet, happy sleep.

Chapter Eleven – Gavin

In the morning, I kissed the back of Maggie’s neck, making her stir.

I had ended up spooning her sometime during the night. It hadn’t really been a plan, and I hoped she wouldn’t mind.

I’d loved fucking her and sensed that she had loved it, too. I didn’t want to push it too far, but I didn’t want to let her out of my sight for a second.

How was it possible that someone I barely knew could have such a potent effect on me?

I hadn’t avoided relationships in the past, but I hadn’t sought them out, either. I preferred to leave before things got too serious, but something about Maggie made me want to stick around.

Maggie turned to face me.

She nuzzled her cheek against my chest and sighed happily.

“Hey,” she said.

“Hey,” I said back, kissing the top of her head.

“I need a shower,” she said.

“Me too. My shower’s big enough for two. Care if I join you?”

“Okay,” she said, without hesitation.

She rolled out of bed and sauntered stark naked from the bed to the bathroom. I got the feeling she was getting really comfortable with me, and I loved that feeling. Almost as much as I loved looking at her curves without any clothes covering them up.