Chapter 21
Holden
“Should we take a break before therapy?” I asked Banshee.
My puffball of a dog that I’d adopted from Axel’s pack of strays wagged her tail happily, squirming in my lap.
Woof!
My office door stood open because I liked a window into what was happening in the garage, even as I wrestled with invoices and billing.
I pushed my chair back, and Banshee jumped down.
She’d looked so forlorn this morning that I’d brought her into work.
With Shiloh staying with me, I’d spent a lot less time cuddling with her.
But I figured I could use the emotional support during my session with Dr. Levy.
My therapist was at a convention out of state, so I’d be talking to her on a video call.
Banshee trotted out of the office ahead of me, immediately running around the space to check in on everyone. She startled Gray into dropping a wrench with a loud clatter that made Flynn jump and swear from his spot under a Ford-model pickup.
Bailey was so engrossed in texting on his phone that he didn’t even notice.
“Warn a guy first,” Gray grumbled as Banshee butted his hand for pets.
“At least she’s not Taz,” I said with a smirk.
Gray cast me a dirty look. “How would you like me to make fun of your touch aversion?”
“I don’t know,” I said mildly. “Do you think your Taz aversion is an adequate comparison?”
Gray immediately looked stricken. “God no, I didn’t mean that. I was just—”
“Way to go,” Bailey said, tone caustic. “You stuck your foot all the way down your throat.”
Flynn slid out from under the pickup, watching us with a wary expression. He didn’t know us that well yet.
“I’m sorry!” Gray held up his hands. “It was a stupid thing to say. I shouldn’t have—”
I laughed. “I’m just fucking with you.”
His eyes grew huge. “What?”
“You’re definitely more traumatized by that little Chihuahua than I’ve ever been,” I joked.
Bailey snickered. “Ouuuchhh. That’s gotta sting!”
I turned to him. “So, having a nice little break over there? I didn’t realize we’d hired Flynn so you could text.”
“How else can I test what he knows?” Bailey said. “Besides, I think you want me to reply to Mel Weeks about the scholarship she wants to give me, right?”
“Seriously?” I strode forward and looked at the screen Bailey tilted toward me, displaying the message from Mel. “Holy shit, Bails. That’s great.”
“It’s only five thousand bucks,” Bailey said. “Not like a full ride or anything.”
“Hey, that’s five thousand dollars we don’t have to come up with. We’ve still got the financial aid request with the state pending too, but this is really helpful, Bailey.”
He smiled tentatively. “Okay, then. I’ll keep texting while Flynn does the oil change.”
Flynn ducked his head as he wiped his hands on a rag. “I can do it. I’m learning fast.”
“I’m sure you are,” I said. “I was just giving Bailey shit. If you can do an oil change on your own, then by all means, have at it.”
Flynn smiled tentatively. “Will do.”
Gray checked the clock. “You headed out for therapy?”
“Doing it remotely today. I’ll be on a video session in my office. If you need something, you can pop in. I might just need a minute to wrap it up.”
“We’ll be fine for an hour,” Bailey said with an eye roll.
“Well, sure, you’ve got Flynn to do all the heavy lifting. Don’t sprain a finger there, Bailey.”
“This one?” Bailey said, flipping me the bird. “I’ll be careful. It’s real important to me.”
I laughed. “All right, smart-ass.”
Banshee got a few more head pats, took a potty break outside, and then we returned to my office. I shut the door behind me. I didn’t mind if my brothers sought me out if they needed something, but I also didn’t want them hearing every word I said.
I returned to my seat, Banshee retaking her place warming my thighs, and I opened the link to the video chat that Dr. Levy had emailed me.
She appeared on the screen in a floral-print halter top, with sunglasses propped on her head and cheeks tinted pink by the sun. “Hello, Holden! And who is this?”
My dog was in full view of the camera, showing off her famous Samoyed smile. “This is my girl, Banshee.”
“Ah, yes, you’ve mentioned her,” Dr. Levy said with a smile. “I’m glad to see how comfortable you are together. That must be great.”
I sank my hands into her ruff, feeling the calm waves wash through me. “Yeah, she’s my security blanket. Very comfy and—” I laughed and turned my face as she licked my cheek. “—affectionate.”
“I see that,” Dr. Levy said with a chuckle.
“How is the conference going?” I asked. “You’re in Hawaii, right?”
“Yes.” Dr. Levy chuckled. “I can’t complain about the location. It’s beautiful. The lectures have been very informative, but the ocean might be the most inspirational part of this trip. I’m going to recommend all my clients go listen to the sea when they’re filled with turmoil.”
“That’ll be very helpful in Nebraska,” I said dryly.
She laughed. “Recordings of ocean waves, then.” She gave a happy sigh. Vacation suited her, even a work vacation. “But enough about me. Let’s talk about you, Holden. How are things going?”
She didn’t ask specifically about Shiloh. She’d already gotten a couple of updates over the past weeks, so she knew where we stood.
Instead, we chatted about my relationships with my brothers, how managing the business impacted our dynamics, and my stress about setting Bailey up for the success we never had.
“Have you considered that you may be projecting your desires for a different life onto Bailey?” she asked. “That maybe everything you want for him is actually what you want for you?”
I took a minute to consider that. “I did pursue college, though, and it didn’t work out.”
“Because your family needed you,” she filled in. “We’ve talked about that.”
I nodded. “But I was also struggling with the touch aversion. Living in the dorm, bumping into people on campus, it was becoming unbearable.”
“Do you regret having to give it up?”
“Well, of course, but also…no. I love that my family is together again. We’ve got a thriving business. There are tough days, expenses keep rising, and we’ve got to get Bailey’s replacement fully trained, but it’s going as well as it can be.”
“I’m happy to hear that, Holden. You’ve worked hard to rebuild your family.”
“I don’t think I’m projecting what I want for me onto Bailey. Maybe what I wanted at his age? I don’t know. I think I just want him to have everything we couldn’t have. Is that bad?”
“No, not at all. Every parent experiences this.”
I rolled my eyes. “I’m not his parent.”
“But you’re the closest thing he has.”
Once we’d hashed out my feelings about work and family—not to mention the baggage of realizing that, jokes aside, I really kind of was Bailey’s dad now—the conversation inevitably turned to touch aversion.
“You told me in our last session that you’d held Shiloh’s hand and that it was getting easier each time you did it. Still true?”
“Yeah. I have to think about it, sort of mentally make the decision that this touch is good, but it’s more comfortable now. We even, uh, touched while…”
I trailed off, but she got the picture.
“That’s fantastic, Holden!”
She beamed at me like a proud mama, albeit a mama who I was sharing my personal sex life with.
“But I’m not sure how to move forward from here,” I admitted.
“When I think about what to do next, it becomes overwhelming. It’s taken so long to get here.
I don’t want to spend weeks trying to squeeze his shoulder or give him a hug.
Isn’t there a way to speed this up? I trust him enough to hold his hand, so why not everything else? ”
“It’s a process, Holden. You can’t force your nervous system to rewire itself overnight, but this is great progress.”
“It’s not very romantic,” I grumbled. “I can’t even figure out what we are together because we ‘practice’ touch like it’s a homework project to be graded.”
She nodded, forehead creased. “Do you feel you lack intimacy with him?”
The fiery hot sex we’d had while I’d guided his hand to touch himself in all sorts of dirty ways came to mind. A physical connection with Shiloh had intensified everything. My pulse still spiked every time the memories surfaced.
“I wouldn’t say that. I just want it to come more easily. To reach out casually, to cuddle on the couch, or not worry about rolling into him when I sleep, you know? To just be together, like everyone else is.”
“It may never feel easy,” she said gently. “I don’t want to give you unrealistic expectations. But it can get better. You must be patient.”
I huffed an annoyed breath. “I figured you’d say that.”
She smiled, eyes twinkling. “That doesn’t mean you can’t add a little romance. Have a date night. Turn on some soft music. Make these intimate times more about connecting with each other than checking items off a list.”
I chewed my inner cheek. “We’ve never, um, gone on a date.”
“Oh?” She looked surprised.
“It’s not that I don’t want to,” I said quickly. “But Shiloh came to stay with me to escape some bad circumstances. It didn’t feel right to ask him out at first, and now we’re caught up in this whole healing journey of mine. How do I separate all that from what we are to each other?”
“I don’t think you do,” Dr. Levy said. “We all carry things with us, Holden. We have challenges, stress, and emotional wounds. We learn in childhood how to cope with our trauma. Even once we no longer need those tools, they’re tough to put down.
We’ve convinced ourselves they are crutches we need to walk. ”
“Okay…” I said, unsure where she was going with this.
“Putting down your crutches will be even harder, Holden. You think these crutches not only help you walk but keep you from falling off a cliff. These are survival mechanisms. They’re part of you.
And Shiloh’s challenges are his. If you wait for the perfect time when neither of you are burdened by difficulty, you might wait forever. ”
“So, you’re saying I should ask him on a date?”
She shrugged one shoulder. “Only if you want to date him.”