Embracing Juliette (Texas Heroes: Station 9 #1)

Chapter 14

14

Juliette

I reread the email for the fourth time, still not understanding it. I understood the words, obviously, but why was it sent to me?

Juliette,

Please review the attached information regarding applying for the position of Lead Therapist. I think that you would be a great fit.

Sincerely,

Michelle Jameson

OT/PT Supervisor

“Hey, Katie,” I called over the half-wall that separated our cubbies. “Can you come look at this for a sec?”

She came in and leaned against my desk. “What’s up?”

I pointed to the computer screen, and she read it quietly for a moment.

“Yes! You should definitely apply. You’d be great!”

“What? No, I wouldn’t.”

“Yes, you would. You’re fantastic with the kids, and all the teachers love working with you. Your paperwork is always on point, and you already help half the department with their computer issues. You’re perfect.”

“But what about all the meetings?”

“Yeah, that part will be annoying, but I don’t think it will be so bad.”

“It’s not that. It’s just… I’ll be speaking at a lot of meetings. And to parents.”

“Afraid to spend too much time in meetings with the admin?” Katie laughed. “Seriously, I agree with Michelle. I’d much rather you be our lead than anybody else.”

Was she being purposely obtuse? Or just too considerate to mention the elephant in the room? I forced a smile, knowing she was too nice to say anything else. “Thanks. I’ll think about it.”

“Good. Ready to go?” she asked with a glance at the clock.

“I need a minute. You can go ahead.”

Katie left to pick up her student, and I quickly pulled out the materials for my next session before following after her. I was already two minutes late, which was a big deal when sessions were only thirty minutes. Another reason I shouldn’t be lead—chronic tardiness.

“Hi, Juliette!” a teacher, Dina or Dana or Deanna, said with a bright smile as I passed her in the hall.

“Hey, how are you?” I responded with my usual greeting and a smile. Even when I knew someone’s name, it was never with enough confidence to say it under pressure. Everyone seemed to know my name, though. And they were still all friendly to me.

My chest felt funny, pride and doubt battling it out. Was Katie right? I did have a good relationship with most of the teachers. Therapists and administrators too. Even if I didn’t follow through on being lead, it felt surprisingly good that Michelle and Katie thought I could.

I walked back to the therapy room with my student. As we sat down in my cubby, I said, “Hey, Lia, we’re going to do some job practice first, and then we’ll do an obstacle course, okay?” Lia nodded, then I demonstrated the sequence of folding the squares of paper in half, stapling them, and inserting them into envelopes. I passed the materials to her and watched with encouragement and occasional cues, ignoring the gnawing in my gut and the red dot on my screen that indicated a new email. Did Michelle send another email? Was I good enough to be lead?

Oh no. Maybe I wasn’t ignoring them as well as I thought. Lia was humming. That was her sign. The first warning that she was about to lose control.

“Hey, can I help with that?” I asked gently, indicating the envelope Lia was about to tear. “It’s okay, I’ll help open it, and then you can put the paper in.”

Lia ripped the envelope in half and threw the pieces at me. I subtly moved the stapler to my other side. That was the only potential projectile within reach that could do real damage.

“You okay?” Katie called from the next cubby.

“Yeah, we’re good.”

But we weren’t good. Lia reached for the stapler, but when she couldn’t get to it, she went after me. After a quick flurry of swatting and grabbing, I managed to move out of her reach, the stapler safely behind my back.

I felt a stinging in my chest but ignored it and said, “Ready?”

No response, but she sat in her seat, hands down. I silently counted to ten, and when Lia still didn’t move, I sat back down. I grabbed more supplies from my shelf, folded a paper, stapled it, and put it in an envelope while Lia watched. I slid the stapler back toward her, holding it securely on the desk while she begrudgingly completed the task.

I did another one and passed it back to her, repeating the process. We found a rhythm and quickly completed the task.

Lia pointed to the sensory area, asking for the promised obstacle course.

“I don’t know. You hurt me.” I paused to let it sink in. “But then you did pull it together very nicely.”

She looked at me hopefully. “Are you sorry?” I asked, making a fist with my right hand and circling it over my chest, signing the word sorry .

Lia signed sorry back.

I was a sucker for that, so she got the obstacle course, but I did replace her favorite trampoline with a smaller springboard.

“You’ll try for the trampoline next time?”

She nodded and signed sorry again, then pointed to my chest. I followed her gaze, looking for the first time, and the red streaks across my skin started to sting even more now that I saw them.

Damn, that hurt. I smiled and said I was okay. We finished the session, then I went to the nurse to wash and report it.

Luckily, the rest of my day passed without incident, and within minutes of getting home, I was in Dylan’s SAFD shirt and a pair of shorts, snuggled under a blanket on the couch drinking a cup of tea. I held my phone, my finger wavering between the Kindle and the phone icons.

I clicked on the texts instead. I’d tried calling Dylan from the car, but he didn’t answer. I was mid-text, trying to decide what to write, when it vibrated in my hand. My stomach fluttered at seeing Dylan’s name on the screen.

“Hi!”

“Hey, Juls, how are you?”

“I’m good now, just relaxing. You?”

“Are you okay?” The sudden worry in his voice warmed me as much as the tea had.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just a long day.”

“Tell me about it.”

I started with the easier part. “One of my students had a tough session. She’s usually really good in OT, but she got upset and scratched me.”

“Where? Did you wash it well?”

“I’m fine. It wasn’t bad, I just hate that she got so upset.”

“Juls, did you wash it?”

“It’s on my chest. Yes, I went to the nurse and washed it well and put antibacterial cream on when I got home.”

“I hate that your job is dangerous.”

“ My job is dangerous? You’re the one who runs into fires! The one who helps at car accidents with cars speeding by you!”

“Yes, but I have safety gear. I go into those situations prepared and with my team to back me up. I’ll be okay. The kids you work with are unpredictable.”

“No, that’s not fair to say. They don’t want to be aggressive. They just get overwhelmed or frustrated or some other emotion they can’t handle. It’s my job to help with that. If I can help them learn new skills, life will be less frustrating. If I can teach them a new sensory strategy, they won’t be overstimulated as often. Like today, I was able to help her settle down and finish out our session calmly. If that helps her cope with frustration better next time, it was worth it.”

“Juls, you’re amazing. What you do is life-changing for the kids you work with. You’re a miracle worker.”

My heart caught at his words and the pride I heard in his voice.

“Okay, now you’re taking it too far,” I denied.

“It’s true. Tell me what happened today. Let’s hear the magic you worked for your student.”

“Fine,” I huffed, trying not to let him hear how much his praise affected me. “We were working on an office practice task because Lia would be great at that kind of work. Her OCD tendencies and need to finish what she starts could be great traits if she develops better coping skills,” I started, and then I told him about our session.

“What did you say to get her to settle down?”

“Nothing. The last thing she needed was to be given a correction or directions. I just quietly modeled what she should do.”

“Amazing. I hope you realize that not everyone can understand that or be so calm and in control like you were. They’re lucky to have you, Juls.”

I sighed, dreading telling Dylan the rest. “Apparently you’re not the only one who thinks I’m good at my job.”

“Of course I’m not. What makes you say it like that, though?”

“My supervisor wants me to apply to be the lead therapist.”

“I’d say congratulations, but you don’t sound happy. How do you feel about it?”

“Like you said, I’m good with the kids. I chose to be an OT because I like working with them. The less I talk, the happier they are. Being lead would mean I’m with the kids only about half the time, and the other half will be administrative work, my least favorite part of the job. It will require so much talking to people. Meetings with administrators and parents. Relaying information between people. Important information. No one should rely on me to communicate anything important. I don’t know if I can do it.”

“You can do it. I think you’d be great at it. You have so much talent and wisdom when it comes to your job, it would be a great opportunity to share it. But if it’s not what you want to do, decline the offer. This is your life, you can make the decisions that are right for you, that will make you happy.”

“I don’t know what will make me happy, though. I want it and I don’t want it.”

“Can you talk to the person who did it before to get a feel for it?”

“No, I don’t want to bother her. She was injured last year, and they thought she’d be back this year, but she won’t be. That’s why it’s available.”

“Did she get hurt because she was lead? Is it riskier?”

I couldn’t help but smile. “Quit worrying about me. I’ll be fine.”

“I’ll always worry about you. I care about you.”

It wasn’t an outright declaration of love, but it was close. It was also… What? That he knew I had a tough day with barely a word? That he was proud of me? That he thought I could be lead? That he seemed to read between all the lines and understand me in a way that very few do? Yeah, that’s what had my heart racing and my breath catching. He understood me. Literally understood my words, and also understood all the things I didn’t say. It was amazing and scary.

I had to swallow hard before I could respond. “Thank you.”

“Juls?”

“What?”

“What are you thinking?”

Shit. This was the problem. Everyone else has always just accepted my silence. Expected it even.

I closed my eyes for a moment and took a steadying breath. He meant a lot to me. Enough that I wanted to tell him the truth, even if it was embarrassing.

“I’m happy you care about me, because I care a lot about you too, but it also makes me nervous that you’ll pay too much attention to the dumb things I do. I love how much you understand me, but I also kinda wish you weren’t always watching quite so closely.”

“I am paying attention, you’re right about that, but only because I want to learn what makes you happy, and I want to know if you’re upset so I can help you feel better. If you get hurt, I just want to make sure you’re okay, and I only care about how it happened in regards to preventing it from happening again. Never to judge, baby.”

Warmth bloomed through my chest. “I wish you were here right now.”

“Yeah? What would you do if I was there?” I heard a smile in his voice, but it was more than his usual easy grin. The teasing anticipation rumbling in his voice drew images of his sexy, eager smile, and that warmth spread from my chest down to my core.

“Um, uh, whatever you wanted me to do?” I’d fantasized about phone sex, or sexy teasing on the phone, or whatever we were doing. What girl hasn’t? But shit, what should I say? I didn’t have a sexy bone in my body!

“You want to know what I’d do to you?”

“Yes.”

He chuckled knowingly, his voice deepening. “I’d kiss you until we couldn’t breathe, then I’d trail kisses down your throat, across your collarbone, down to the top curves of your tits. I’d kiss and nip and suck until you squirmed in my arms, then my hands would slowly slide under your shirt and pull it off. I’d take your bra off and?—”

“I’m not wearing a bra. I’m just wearing your SAFD shirt.”

“Juls, you have no idea what that does to me,” he groaned. “I’d pull my shirt off of you and when those luscious tits fall free, I’d suck a nipple into my mouth, sucking it hard, while my fingers teased your other nipple, then I’d switch. I’d suck and nip, tease and pinch, until you were begging for more. Then I’d move down, my tongue working its way down your body, pulling your pants and underwear down as I go. I’d kiss your thighs, teasing closer and closer to your pussy before I nip your clit. Then I’d soothe it with gentle licks. I’d lick and suck your clit, then I’d push one finger and then two as far inside you as they can go, twisting my hand so you feel my knuckles brushing inside you.”

Oh God. I was going to come just from his words. My hand in my shorts was helping too, but it was mostly his words. And his deep sexy voice.

“Juls, I hear your breathing. Are you touching yourself?”

“Mmm hmm,” I softly moaned.

“Juls, baby. So sexy. Touch yourself harder, the way I would.”

I added more pressure, moved my fingers faster.

“Use your other hand to play with your tits.”

I put the phone on speaker and laid it next to me before I pinched and pulled my nipple with my free hand.

“That’s it, let me hear you.”

I moaned.

“Fuck, baby, I wish I was there to see this. Put your feet on the couch and drop your knees to the sides, so you’re open wide.”

I complied and slid two fingers in. I groaned in pleasure and frustration. I wanted Dylan’s thick, long, callused fingers.

“I want to see you just like this. I want to hear you come.”

Shit. He was listening. He wanted to hear me. I moaned, but it sounded fake even to me. I moved my fingers faster, chasing the sensation that I was starting to lose.

“Stop thinking, Juls. Just feel. Listen to my voice, and do what I say.”

How did he know? Even over the phone, I was messing it up.

“Close your eyes, baby. Make yourself feel good. I wish I could see how sexy you look right now. Are your legs still open? Keep them open for me. I bet your pussy is glistening. I want to lick it, to suck up the juices that are flowing for me. Flick your clit, faster, harder, keep going.”

I followed his directions, touching myself in a way I never had before. Never this wildly.

“That’s it, baby, keep going, more. Now press hard on your clit, move your finger over it in hard little circles.”

“Dylan! God, I’m so close, I need to come.”

“Keep going, harder, don’t stop until I tell you to. More.” Dylan was breathing hard.

“Are you jerking off?”

“Of course. This is the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard. Come, baby. I’m close and I want to come with you.”

Holy shit. That pushed me over the edge. I moved faster, harder, making all kinds of incoherent sounds. It had never, ever been like this when I got myself off. It usually just relieved a little of the pressure. This time, though, I was going to come for real. Any second now. I closed my eyes, seeing Dylan’s sexy face. Imagining his hands on me, in me. Jerking himself off next to me.

I was going to come.

I leaned up, pressing my fingers inside as deep as I could get them, working over my clit at the same time. I pinched my nipple hard. Oh, yes, that did it! I moaned into the phone as my body thrummed and pulsed. “Dylan!”

“Right here, baby.” Dylan groaned between his words, and then he said more, but I couldn’t hear him over the orgasm roaring through my body.

I sank back into the couch, the breath whooshing out of me as my body relaxed.

“That’s it, keep touching yourself. Pretend I’m there, milking you for more.” He blew out a harsh breath. “I want to kiss you so badly right now, I want to feel you moaning in my mouth.”

Following his orders not to stop until he said, I didn’t move my hand away. I languidly ran my finger over my slit, closing my eyes and relishing the sensations still running through me.

“That was amazing, Juls. I don’t know how I’m going to make it another two days before I can see you again.”

I sighed in agreement.

He chuckled. “Are you still touching yourself?”

“You said not to stop until you tell me to.”

“You’re amazing. Do you want to stop?”

“No. I want you to come here right now and for you to touch me. Did you come?”

“Fuck, baby, you’re killing me. Yes, I came when you cried out my name. Juls, after this shift, will you pack a bag and come stay with me? I want to spend every minute of my time off with you. I want to fall asleep with you in my arms, I want to wake you in the morning by kissing you. I want to see you while I make you cry out my name.”

Is he for real? Yes, yes, yes I want that!

“Yes, I’d love that. But I’ll still be at work when you go home Friday.”

“That’s okay. I like the idea of living our normal lives together. I’ll go grocery shopping in the afternoon, and I’ll have dinner ready for you. When you stay over on days that you work, I can make you lunch and?—”

The tones rang out loud through the phone.

“Gotta run, baby.”

“Be safe!”

The words “ I love you ” were on the tip of my tongue. Good thing he hurried off before they could slip out.

With renewed energy, I bounced off the couch and made myself pasta with grilled chicken and broccoli. After I ate and cleaned up the dishes, I packed a bag with some clothes. I was too excited to wait. Friday morning, I’d just throw in my toiletries, and I’d be ready to go after work. I wandered around the house straightening up. Normally, I’d relax on the couch or in bed, watching TV or reading at this time of the evening, but I was too worried about Dylan to relax.

Eventually, I settled on the couch with my Kindle. I read for a while, glancing at my phone every few minutes, hoping it would ring again. How long did it take to put out a fire? Finally, hours after I should have been asleep, I brushed my teeth and forced myself to bed. He’d be tired when he finished, and it’s not like he said he’d call anyway. It was silly to wait up for him. I pulled his shirt up to my face, wrapping myself in the comfort of his lingering scent, and drifted off into an uneasy sleep.

The ding of my phone pierced through my sleep, jolting my eyes open. I reached over to my nightstand, fumbling for the phone.

Dylan: I’m back at the station, safe and sound. Hope you’re asleep.

Me: *kiss emoji*

Dylan: Go back to sleep. Can’t wait to see you.

With a smile, I rolled over and went back to sleep, much more soundly than before.