Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
LEO
“What made you decide to apply at Sun Steer?” the red-haired woman asked.
I tore my gaze away from Jacqueline, clearing my head the best I could to answer the question. It was obvious that she had no desire to admit that we knew each other.
Something settled in my gut at the realization that she wasn’t humored to see me. She wasn’t pleasantly surprised to find me here.
No, sitting across from her at the conference table, taking in her stiff body language, Jacqueline made it very clear that from this point forward, we were strangers again.
* * *
My vision was clearing, stars danced around my peripherals, and I struggled to catch my breath.
“Damn,” Taylor grunted on top of me, “You really can’t take a hit, can you?”
I scoffed and lifted my middle finger.
“Are you okay?” I heard Zaid’s voice, followed by footsteps of him jogging near us. Taylor had already helped themselves up, but both Taylor and Zaid lent me a hand to pull me off of the grass. I probably had green streaks all over my back and arse.
“I’m good,” I gave Zaid a thumbs up after taking a deep breath, ensuring I could breathe still, “T’s just a menace.”
They rolled their eyes and checked their watch, before clapping their hands and ending the training for the day. Soon the team had dispersed to the edge of the pitch, grabbing water bottles and meeting up with friends and family who came to watch.
I reached into my bag to check my mobile, and my heart skipped a beat when I noticed a missed call from Jacqueline. Balancing the cell between my ear and shoulder while I gathered my things, I redialed.
“Hey.” Her voice was enticing. It wasn’t a high, feminine voice. If Jacqueline sang, she’d be an alto. Perhaps it was because we were sleeping together, but her voice alone could get me half-mast.
“Hey, sorry I missed your call,” I plopped myself down on the grass, sweaty and gross and not willing to sit in my car with my skin this wet, “What’s up?”
“Nothing,” Jacqueline replied.
And then silence hung in the air.
“…Did you not mean to call me?” I asked.
“No, no. I did.”
More silence
It was a thick, daunting silence.
I could practically hear her breathing.
A jolt of panic hit my chest, and a knot formed in my gut. Holy shit, was she ending things between us?
I knew the last time we got together didn’t go as planned, but I sure as hell wasn’t worried about it. Unless I should have been worried about it? What if I fucked it up by being too casual?
“What’s on your mind, beautiful?” I decided to say. I wasn’t above using extra flattery to convince her to keep doing…whatever it was we were doing.
A long, heavy sigh sounded on the other end before Jacqueline grumbled something to herself that I couldn’t make out.
“What was that?”
“I told my therapist about you,” she blurted out, “About us.”
I raised my eyebrows, accidentally making eye contact with Taylor a few feet away as I replied, “And…how did that go?”
Taylor raised a dark eyebrow at me in question as they took a drink from their water bottle.
I shrugged because I had no idea what the fuck was going on.
“Good. Fine. Splendid.”
“Splendid,” I chuckled, dropping my gaze to my boots and unlacing them a bit, “Have you ever used that word before?”
“No,” Jacqueline laughed, and my cheeks hurt from the smile I made at the sound, “I’m just nervous. I’m bad at this.”
“At what, exactly?”
Please, please don’t end this.
“At communicating my feelings,” Jacqueline sighed again, “I talked to her about how I couldn’t, um, finish…the last time we hung out.”
I widened my eyes, scraping a hand down my face.
“Okay,” I turned to see Taylor plopping themselves down next to me, their dark blue gaze flicking over me in curiosity, “…in the same conversation you told her about me?”
“No, no, she’s known about you since day one.”
I smirked a little, hopeful that this was a good thing and not a bad thing, “Really? And what does your therapist think about our situation?”
Taylor’s brows raised while they shifted to face me directly, not bothering to pretend they weren’t eavesdropping. I grinned at them but kept the cell to my ear.
“She said I need to talk to you about how embarrassed I am over what happened. How I reacted. I don’t know. So I guess I’m calling to see if you want to come over tonight or tomorrow to do that. And like… just do that.”
“Ah,” I scraped my thumb across my bottom lip, both of my arms resting on my knees as Taylor and I sat on the grass, “I’m just finishing rugby and smell awful, I’m afraid. I’d love to stop by tomorrow, though. I want to know what your therapist has to say.”
“Okay—It’s all good stuff, by the way—” Jacqueline’s words made me drop my head in relief, “I mean, it’s awkward and weird and I’ll probably fumble the conversation. But my therapist likes you. For me, that is. Well, she likes how I have talked about you in our sessions. She doesn’t know you, and my perspective is completely biased because you made me an orgasming queen—”
I choked a laugh, covering my mouth with my free hand, “Queen, you say? Do I need to bow to you?”
Jacqueline snorted, “Okay, so. Tomorrow. We’ll talk. No P’s in V’s. Just…talking.”
“Just talking.” I agreed, feeling a bit of relief from Jacqueline’s words. She wouldn’t lead me on. She was a straightforward and to-the-point kind of woman. If she said things were good, I believed her.
“…Maybe some kissing.”
“Definitely some kissing.”
“But none of your magic dick.”
“What the fu—” I clapped my hand over my eyes as I laughed, “I’m glad you think my dick is magical.” Taylor choked on the water they had just taken a sip of, cupping their hand under their chin in an attempt to prevent the water from spilling all over their shirt.
“Alright, I need to go so I can spiral in embarrassment over how this entire call went,” Jacqueline rushed the words out of her mouth, making me laugh again at how adorable she was, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Have a good night, love.”
“You too.” And then she ended the call, and I glanced at the blank screen for a second before chuckling to myself.
“What the hell was that about?” Taylor asked.
I shook my head, running my hands over my face as I laughed again.
God, I was obsessed with that woman.
Then I dropped my hands and turned to Taylor.
I wondered if the question that was on the tip of my tongue was inappropriate. Our friendship was growing, sure. But perhaps I was jumping the gun by asking for their advice.
Well, one way to find out .
“Do you date women?” I asked. I didn’t want to assume their sexual preferences.
They raised their eyebrows, “Women are my favorite to date, yes.”
“As opposed to?” I asked.
They wiggled their eyebrows, “Everyone else. I’m pan.”
I nodded and held out my fist, “Me too.”
“No way,” Taylor grinned and bumped my fist with theirs, “So you were flirting with me the first day we met.”
I laughed, “Couldn’t help myself, I’m afraid.”
“I don’t blame you; I’m fucking gorgeous.” Taylor laughed as they capped their bottle and set it aside, “So, are you having woman troubles?”
I tipped my head from side to side, “Kind of. I’m not sure. We’ve been seeing each other for a few weeks, but sometimes I feel out of my wheelhouse with her.”
“How so?” Taylor leaned back on their palms and stretched their legs out, resting one ankle over the other. I copied their pose and looked forward toward the sunset that was halfway hidden by the Pacific Ocean in the distance.
“She’s…god, how do I explain it?” I rolled my head back to look at the sky before looking forward again, “She’s kind of rigid, but I don’t see it as a fault like others do. I think she’s just got a tough exterior. She isn’t always stiff around me—anymore, at least. But she’s been visibly, noticeably stressed lately. I’m not sure how to help, because she doesn’t like to look weak or look like she needs help.”
Taylor thought about my ramblings for a moment, “Well, what does she like?”
I grinned, “Music. Her work playlist is just a bunch of songs from the early aughts, it’s fantastic. Stuff with a heavy beat. Sometimes I can hear the base from her earbuds if she walks past me in the office.” I thought about her some more outside of work, “She also likes blankets. When there’s a throw nearby, she’ll always tug it over herself. Chocolates, she likes chocolates. She always seems to have a small piece ready to eat as soon as she’s done with dinner—oh, she also likes the sensory room at work.”
Taylor turned to look at me then, “Sensory room?”
“Yeah,” I lifted my shoulder, “It’s a room with a hammock and bean bags and a fluffy rug and an essential oil diffuser. I’m pretty sure it’s soundproofed. I’ve seen her go in there several times, usually when she’s grumpy or having a rough day. Don’t know how she tolerates it, it’s way too quiet in there for me.”
Taylor stared at me with a pinch in their brow, before opening their mouth and closing it again.
“What?” I asked, my smile fell from my face, “What is it?”
“I just—” Taylor snapped their lips closed before trying again, “Is she maybe neurodivergent to some degree?” I stared at Taylor’s face momentarily, because their words clicked something into awareness for me. Like a puzzle piece sliding into place in my brain.
“I…haven’t considered that.”
“She may not be,” Taylor quickly added, “I don’t know her. But…I do have some experience with neurodivergent people, is all.”
“Really?” I asked.
“Yeah,” they nodded, “I work with children on the spectrum. So, I’ve seen just how wide and varied the autism spectrum is—especially for women.”
I blinked and turned to face the sunset again, “…I have ADHD, so I feel like I should have considered Jacqueline being neurodivergent long before this.”
“Well, again, she might not be,” Taylor added, “But I also know that there are a lot of people out there who are walking around, high functioning and undiagnosed. It’s common for autistic women to fly under the radar more than men do.”
I sat up, tucking my feet near me so I could rest my arms on my knees again, “The other day, she was telling me how she doesn’t always understand nuance. How that caused a lot of contention in her last relationship because she couldn’t understand the vague comments her ex would say to her.”
Taylor smirked a little, “I’m starting to have a little bit more confidence in my theory.”
“Jesus Christ, it seems so obvious now,” I dropped my head in my hands, “God, I’m such a wanker for not seeing it sooner.”
“Okay, let’s not be dramatic and weirdly make this about you,” Taylor punched my shoulder, “Let’s get back to your original issue. She’s stressed, and not feeling like herself. But she likes loud music and sensory experiences…dare I ask, doth the lady like clubbing?”
I frowned because I couldn’t picture Jacqueline at a club at all. I pictured her behind her desk at work, or under a blanket on the couch.
“I don’t know.”
Taylor quirked their lips to the side with a look of contemplation on their face, before finally pulling their phone out of their bag, “Okay, I might have a suggestion.”
“Anything,” I agreed, as I scooted closer to them.