62. Chapter 60
Emery
I thought I could do this, but I really, really can’t.
Every other session, as soon as the ropes have settled against my skin and I’ve allowed them to support me, my mind has slowly gone fluffy and time has done that weird thing where it feels like hours but it has only been minutes.
Not this time.
I’ve tried so hard to relax into it, but Hudson has been randomly stroking his thumb along the back of my hand beneath the ropes, sending shots of fire up my forearm, distracting me. And their conversation. It’s like they don’t care that I’m sitting right here.
A completely private conversation, effectively cutting me out like I’m the one that is the inanimate object—and not in the sexy way.
And fuck, they’ve been talking about anything and everything, giving me the smallest glimpse into their lives, a life I will never be a part of. Every piece of information I learn is like a nugget of gold I can hoard away to examine later when I’m alone.
They have this super cute get-together every Thursday night where they go on a four-way boy date for dinner, then go back to Derek’s place to play games.
The winner of the current tournament they are playing is getting an all-expenses-paid trip to New York for New Year’s Eve.
Apparently, Darcy is in the lead, which he seems fairly excited about.
Hudson’s lease is almost up on his car, and Derek has promised to go car shopping with him in a couple of weekends.
Xavier’s birthday, which is supposed to be a secret, is next month, and there are serious thoughts about getting him a puppy.
But not like a manly boxer or something, but a cute little fluff ball of a thing.
The mental imagery of my savage Hunter holding a tiny white, curly haired puppy in his big hands makes my chest ache.
Their conversation winds along so many different paths, I’m almost dizzy from everything they talk about. And the longer their conversation goes on, the more I desperately need to leave. Hearing all about their plans for the future is killing me.
Even though it’s only been maybe an hour, I’m done.
I thought I could get through this, but that was operating under the assumption that there would be silence, just like every other time.
With all this chatter, I really don’t think that I can.
My muscles are twitching and my insides are squirming, and I feel like I might pass out if I can’t take a breath of fresh air in the very immediate future.
The only thing making this somewhat bearable is that my arm has gone a little numb and I can’t really feel Hudson anymore. Except for his thumb. That, I can still feel.
Our forearms are tied together, and when I snuck a peek earlier, I spotted light and dark green diamonds that flow from our elbows to knuckles, creating a net that closes over our linked fingers, the excess rope dangling to the floor.
It’s beautiful, and I hope Darcy has captured it perfectly because I’m out of time.
“…the white tile—”
“Are we almost done?” I interrupt over the top of Hudson.
No one answers my question, and I assume it’s because they really did forget I was here. Chancing a quick look at Darcy, I try to keep my breathing even.
He stares back at me, sketch pad lowering to his lap. “Ah, I was hoping to spend a little more time on this position, then do a suspension.”
My head is shaking before I even realize I’m saying no. “I need to go.”
He stands and puts his things on the table next to him before coming over to me. “Talk to me, princess. What’s going on?”
“I really just need to leave,” I reply, doing my best to keep my voice even.
He does that thing where he searches my face, trying to figure out what’s going on in my head, but I keep my lips together and stare at a point over his shoulder.
“Okay, let me get you untied and—”
“Can you just cut me out?”
When he doesn’t answer, I force my eyes to his dark blue ones.
“Please,” I implore on a whisper.
An emotion flashes over his eyes quicker than I can catch, but he nods. “Yeah, I can do that. Can I take a few photos before I get the shears? Is that okay?”
With relief surging through my system, I nod. Another thirty seconds will be fine.
As Darcy goes over to his cabinet to get his camera, Hudson turns in his chair, the ropes pulling a little. I can feel his stare on the side of my face.
“Kitten, can you look at me?”
Swallowing, I clench my jaw and turn in my seat enough that I can see him.
The way he stares at me makes the protective shell around my soul feel like it is tearing apart.
“I wish we had been given more time to get to know you before everything went to shit. I’m so sorry, kitten. We didn’t protect you enough.”
My mouth pops open, but no words come. His words leave me speechless.
Footsteps interrupt our moment, and I quickly turn back around so that Darcy can take the photos he needs.
It doesn’t take long before I feel the cool metal of his curved safety shears pressing into my skin, then, so fucking slowly, making their way down my arm. Every cut eases the tension around my arm but increases the heavy weight sitting on my chest until I can barely breathe.
The moment my hand is free, I’m up and out of the chair, detangling my hand from Hudson’s faster than is probably necessary, but I need out. Now. There is a crash of furniture hitting the floor behind me, but I don’t look back as I dash toward the privacy screen.
Not even bothering to take Darcy’s outfit off, I simply pull my clothes on over them and open my backpack to stuff my underwear into it. Except, my gaze snags on the notebook Hudson gifted me, the thing I have been pouring my heart into for the past week.
His words play back in my mind.
I wish we had been given more time to get to know you before everything went to shit.
Yanking it out of my bag, I finish stuffing my things into it, zip the whole thing together, and march back out to where the two men are standing near the chairs, barely having moved. Hudson looks ridiculous with the ropes still hanging from his arm.
They both turn to face me at my sudden re-entrance. Heat is flooding my body, but I manage to not actually sprint at them and thrust the notebook into Hudson’s chest before I can change my mind. His eyes go wide, and his not-roped hand comes up to hold it in place.
Before he can say anything, I start backing away so I can get around them and out the door. “I’m assuming you have the other key?”
I catch his nod in my peripheral vision as I make it to the door.
I don’t look back.
I can’t.
I can’t.
I can’t.