30. Luna
CHAPTER 30
Luna
A wave of déjà vu washed over me as we exited the city in Beck’s Subaru.
Yes, a Subaru . Apparently, it met Beck’s rigorous safety standards for his daughter, and he wouldn’t be caught dead on the motorcycles he told me all about that night we first met. I hadn’t really clocked the make of the vehicle before because of the whole kidnapping thing, but now I found this little piece of the Bennet puzzle to be, well, puzzling.
Alice chatted the entire duration of the drive.
What’s your favorite Disney movie?
Do you have a favorite color?
Do you like dogs?
Have you had a dog?
Do you think I should get a cat instead?
“No cats,” Beck chimed in, putting a quick end to that line of questioning.
Alice pouted for exactly two seconds before she opened her mouth again, this time listing the number of things they’d need to buy to take care of a dog.
I turned in my seat to get a better view of Beck. He’d planted his arm on my headrest the second we exited the city and firmly kept it there. A small, possessive move that had me recalling how we’d woken up this morning, me the little spoon to Beck’s big spoon, his raging erection digging into my ass.
We’d just passed the Welcome sign for the little upstate township that Sebastian Steele called home when I broke into another yawn. We’d only managed a few hours of sleep before Alice pounded on the door. I scrambled like a madwoman to hide under the bed but luckily Beck had the foresight to lock the door before going to bed.
When I yawned again, Beck glanced over at me and then used his turn signal. I sat up straighter as he turned the wrong way.
“I'm stopping to get you coffee,” Beck explained.
I blinked as warmth spread through my chest. “Thank you.”
He lifted a brow, clearly not used to this nice side of me. “You’re welcome, Marks.”
I sank back into my seat, tracing the lines of Beck’s face as he navigated the few streets between us and the town center.
“Can I get a muffin?” Alice asked as we pulled into a parking spot.
Beck answered his daughter as a calendar item flashed across my screen.
Dr. Wozniac - 30 minutes
Shit . I’d forgotten about my therapy appointment. My doctor had a few highly coveted slots on Saturday mornings to accommodate her busier clients and I’d greedily taken one figuring it would be easier than a mid-week session where I was vollying back and forth between Club Deux and The Chateau.
“Everything, okay?” Beck asked, sliding his sunglasses into the top of his black t-shirt.
I lifted my phone. “I have a call in half an hour I need to take.”
He nodded. “We’ll make this quick and find you a quiet space at Sebastian’s.”
The words hit something low in my gut. On instinct, I leaned forward, placing my hands on his thick thigh and I savored the feel of him under my palms. If I inched up just a little further
“I’m starving,” Alice grumbled from the back seat.
I pulled my hands back as if they’d been burned and reached for the door handle, my lungs desperate for air.
Beck chuckled and unbuckled himself, chatting away with Alice unfazed that I’d just had my hands on him. Yet, still, I could feel his attention on me. The curiosity in his glances as we walked into the homey coffee shop with its mismatched chairs and tables. The regulars in their seats, chatting with neighbors while sipping from unique mugs.
We stood in line, me beside Beck and Alice in front of Beck, leaning back on her dad.
He bumped shoulders with me and mouthed, “You okay?”
I nodded. The therapy session didn’t scare me like it had when I’d first tried right after the incident. I’d only met with my new therapist once and we just clicked. Which felt weird, but also amazing, and left me actually looking forward to today’s session. I saw it as a step toward this , this growing, palpable thing between Beck and me, and even Alice. They were a package deal, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. The comfort of the car ride, the safety I feel in his arms—I wanted the possibility of that. Forever .
The idea alone made me dizzy.
But it wouldn’t be possible until I’d worked out enough of my own stuff.
Still, therapy was helping. Talking about the past, putting it out there, understanding the trauma and my coping mechanisms and finding healthier coping mechanisms…it had a compounding effect, chipping away at the mental blocks that stopped me from being ready, being fully healthy—or healthy enough—to give this thing a real go.
When the person in front of us finished ordering, we scooted up and Beck began rattling off our order, starting with a cappuccino for me, an Americano for him, and a hot chocolate for the little miss.
“And a raspberry white chocolate scone, please,” Alice chimed in. Beck added a few more pastries to the order, enough for us and our friends.
The barista read back the order, and Beck paid while Alice and I combed through the books in the little free library in the corner. I flicked through the romance novels and found an illustrated cover with a hunky hockey player kissing a redhead and immediately tucked it under my arm. Not that I had time to read, but maybe I’d make an exception.
We took our food and drinks to go, and I kept checking the time on my watch.
The second we arrived at Sebastian’s home, I leaped out of the car, gave my friend a quick hug and told her I’d see her shortly. Faith must have been used to my kind of crazy because she didn’t even bat an eye.
“See you soonish?” she said before greeting Beck and Alice.
I passed Willow on my way inside. “Willow, this way, girly.”
The black lab wagged her tail so hard, she damn near fell over. The precious girl trotted behind me as I escaped to my regular guest room and got my laptop ready for my call.
“Morning, Dr. Wozniac.”
My therapist smiled and lifted her glasses from where they’d hung around her neck. “Hello, Luna. It’s nice to see you. Is that a new room?”
I crossed my legs in the oversized chair in the room, my laptop perched on a stack of books that sat on the side table next to the bed. Willow curled up on the ground in front of me.
“Yes, I’m at a friend’s house today.”
She lowered her glasses onto the bridge of her nose like she probably had a dozen times already today. The little movement was one I’d come to expect from her in our little time together. “And how do you feel about that latest episode of Housewives ?”
I chewed the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing. In the initial paperwork I signed with this therapist, she told me that a safe space was conducive to healing. If I ever felt like I wasn’t in a safe space but couldn’t say so aloud, I was given a safe word of sorts.
“Tamra really shouldn’t have thrown that napkin.”
With a little nod, Dr. Wozniac’s glasses found their rightful place. “Very good. Now tell me about your week so far. How’s your body feeling? Any migraines?”
We focused on my physical health first. The brain and the body were connected, and the body often kept the score. It also gave me something easy to focus on—it didn’t feel like diving into the deep end without floaties on.
I pulled the fuzzy blanket from the basket next to me and placed it on my lap. “Nope, migraine free. I managed some meditation also and my sleep has been improving.” This last bit I said as I broke into a yawn. “So, last night I didn’t get too much, actually.”
She tapped the notepad with her pen. “Tell me about that.”
And I did. I told her everything between Beck and me, forever grateful that Sebastian sprung for soundproof walls in this upstate retreat of his. I could talk and talk without fear that anyone would overhear.
Especially the bit about the blow job. I had to give her credit; Dr. W. didn’t even flinch when I mentioned I’d gone down on him.
“Physical intimacy is nothing to be ashamed of, dear.” She’d firmly told me during our first session together after I explained the impetus for seeking her out.
“How did you feel when you were with him?”
No other prompting, just an open-ended question without trying to get me to say one way or the other.
“I felt like me. I felt empowered, like I wanted something, and he clearly wanted it too, and so I did it.”
“Did you flinch?”
I sat up straighter. “Nope.”
She hummed. “Very good. This is a promising step forward, I want you to acknowledge that, Luna. It’s important to measure success along the way. It’s not just the end goal that matters.”
I nodded, understanding why she said that and still not feeling like it was quite enough.
Dr. Wozniac made a face as if sensing my inner monologue, and I wanted to reach through my laptop and pick up that little notepad she always had with her. “And how do you think you’d react if he had wanted to touch you?”
Again, if anyone else had asked me this question other than Faith, I’d flinch or tell them to fuck off, but as it were, Dr. W. created a safe, non-judgmental space that really allowed me to consider things I would have probably kept buried and not addressed. I’d become a pro at that, apparently.
Overachiever .
“Well?” she nudged gently.
I tightened the blanket around me, drawing Willow’s attention. The pup lifted her head from her paws to check on me, and when she deemed the all clear, placed that little chin back down with a sigh.
“I’ve mentioned Beck is handsome, right? Like ridiculously good looking. Like the bad boy who rode a motorcycle to high school and was never seen without his leather jacket, in the body of a grown man with muscles for days—practical muscles, not the ones built by a gym rat, no, it’s more like the someone who really earns the muscles, like in his everyday life. And he’s protective, so protective it makes my heart ache sometimes because it’s been a very long time since anyone was that protective of me. Let’s not forget his big hands and we all know what that means, he has a huge?—”
My therapist cleared her throat as I cut myself off before I could say “dick” to the nice lady across from me.
She lifted a brow but otherwise remained quiet.
“Right, so I guess what I’m trying to say is that yes, a thousand times yes, I want to sleep with Beck, and I’d like to think that if things were taking a sexy turn, that I wouldn’t react the same way I did the first time. That I’d feel ready.”
She tilted her head. “What’s the plan if you do flinch? If your body does go into fight or flight?”
Honestly, I wasn’t sure. I would have to see how I felt in the moment, and I couldn’t predict how I might react. That flinch had come out of nowhere.
“You don’t have to answer me now, but think about it. That’s going to be your homework for the next time we meet. Anticipating your reaction, imagining yourself and how you want to react, that can help give you the tools you need in the moment. It’s like soccer practice.”
I burst into laughter.
Dr. W. pursed her lips. “Not a great analogy, but you understand the sentiment.”
“Practice makes perfect?” I guessed.
“Something like that.”