Shameless expectations, p.6
Shameless Expectations, page 6
Pinching her face, Athena shook her head in disbelief. “Kevin is one year younger than me. When you grow up with money, the circles are small, and they keep them small on purpose.”
“Are you saying you two were destined to be together?” Monti touched Athena’s upper arm lightly, as if they were old friends having a conversation. Athena stared at it before dragging her gaze up Monti’s arm to her lips and then her eyes.
“Anything but.” Athena pulled away from Monti and out of her reach, a silent signal that the touch was too much. Monti retreated, brushing her hands over her hips. “Are we done for the evening?”
“If you’d like that,” Monti answered.
Athena didn’t want to be. She wanted Monti’s magic hands back on her neck and shoulders. She wanted to relax even more than she already had. More importantly, she wanted to sleep. But none of those words left her lips. She couldn’t make any of them move past the clog in her throat—the part of herself that prevented anything close to intimacy from developing.
She had no doubt Monti was judging Kevin, and their relationship. What kind of husband would come home from a trip and not kiss his wife? The kind who married for all the reasons except love. Standing, Athena left her jacket on the chair. She could do this. She could stand before Monti with her jacket off and not be embarrassed by her body.
“Never get married, Monti,” Athena warned.
Athena clenched her fists by her sides, already feeling the strain from before returning to her body. She snagged her jacket and slipped it on, buttoning it tight in the front of her body. She was three strides toward the door when she stopped and faced Monti full on.
“It only destroys what’s sacred in a person.”
seven
“I’m sorry to call you here so late.”
Athena stepped into the library. Monti hadn’t been expecting the phone call, and she’d been on a long walk by the river, the chill air a sharp contrast to her warm muscles. But now the chill was starting to seep back into her bones.
“I almost told you no.” Monti stood by the wingback chair, her fingers rubbing over the fabric on the top of it. She wasn’t quite sure why she was there. Athena had called her, personally, since Fallon wasn’t at work, but that still didn’t explain why Monti had felt so compelled to be here.
Athena was a wounded soul, that much was clear. But Monti wasn’t a therapist anymore. She’d given that up. She’d given everything up in her attempt to find inner peace. And yet, it still seemed to slip through her fingers at every step.
“I need your help.”
Monti sighed heavily. “The thing is, Ms. Pruitt, that I don’t think it’s my help you need.”
“I slept, you know, after the other day.”
“Did you?” Monti brushed her hands along the top of the chair, not making eye contact with Athena. Why was she here again?
“Only a few hours, but it was more—”
“Than the four nights before,” Monti chimed in.
Athena lifted her chin up, almost looking down her nose at Monti. “Yes. More than before. But I haven’t slept since then.”
“You do realize, I hope, that your issue with sleep isn’t because of the muscles in your neck.” Monti squeezed the chair, as if it was her lifeline. She really should just walk out of here. She should go back to her van, leave town, and find somewhere else to explore.
“I didn’t ask you here for that.”
“I know,” Monti answered, finally looking into Athena’s eyes. “But anything I do is only going to be temporary.”
“I’m not asking for you to fix my problems.”
Oh, but you are.
Monti resisted the words. She stared Athena down. The woman looked small again, as if she was being brought down by the world around her. Monti was once again reminded of how deep Athena’s problems ran. This was a therapist’s dream, someone who would be in sessions for years if not the rest of her life.
“Then what are you asking?”
“I have this case.” Athena ran her fingers through her hair, mussing it. “I meet with the client tomorrow, and I need—I need—to be able to function for that meeting.”
“So this is for the short term,” Monti said, trying to make sure they were on the same page.
“Yes.”
Pressing her lips together hard, Monti shook her head slowly. “This isn’t a good idea.”
Monti turned to walk away. She couldn’t be there. She couldn’t let them do something that wouldn’t help either one of them. Athena needed more help than Monti could provide, especially in a simple massage. And until she got that help, she wasn’t going to be able to sleep.
“Monti, wait.” Athena raced toward her, her voice wavering.
Was that desperation?
“Please.”
Monti faced her again, those pleading eyes, the sharp lines in her cheeks and jaw. It was desperation. There was no mistaking it now. Monti straightened her shoulders and debated her options. She could make it a requirement to continue working with Athena that she see a professional therapist.
“If we do this…” Monti started, not quite sure when she’d decided to agree to this farce “…then you need to give me a bit more than you have. And I strongly suggest finding a professional to work with.”
Athena looked like she was going to object, but she stopped herself. The emotions that slid across her face went quickly, one right after the other, and Monti didn’t have time to decipher them all. She could barely manage to keep up with what was going on. “I’ll think about it.”
“Well, that’s better than nothing, I suppose.” Monti crossed her arms. She looked around the library as if judging it now instead of before when she’d simply admired. “I don’t have a table.”
“A table?” A deep line formed in the center of Athena’s forehead in her confusion.
“For a massage. I haven’t been giving massages for almost a year, and I don’t have a table.”
“Do we need one?” Athena glanced toward the chair, no doubt thinking they could keep going in much the same manner as before.
“Your neck and shoulders are very tense, Ms. Pruitt. It would really help if I could have you lie down fully in order to best give you a massage.”
“Oh.” Athena’s cheeks reddened, no doubt thinking about the fact that not only was Monti going to have to touch her again, but she was going to have to lie down for it.
“Is that all right?”
“I suppose.” Athena ran her hand through her hair again, far more agitated than the last time Monti had been there. No doubt the lack of sleep was really affecting her by now.
“Would you like to try some oils?”
Athena nodded sharply, not really paying attention to what Monti had asked. “I can lie in a bed.”
“That would work.” Monti stood still, waiting for Athena’s next move. “I have the oils in my bag if you want to show me where I’ll be massaging you.”
“Right.” Again, Athena’s hand was in her hair, as if the nervous habit was something she couldn’t control. “This way.”
Athena walked right past Monti, expecting her to follow. Bending her knees slightly, Monti turned on her toes and trailed after her. The halls were long, and they had to take several of them plus two flights of stairs before they stopped in front of a door.
This house really was a mansion.
How lonely must it be here? Alone most of the time except for employees? Then again, Athena did have a husband. Monti had to remind herself of that, even though the two of them seemed anything but close.
Before Monti could ask, Athena was pulling her jacket off and throwing it onto the chair at the desk. She probably worked from there often, most likely when she should be sleeping. It took Monti a moment to realize that Athena was standing awkwardly in the middle of the large room, as if waiting for instructions.
Was this Athena’s room? Or a spare room?
The small touches here and there, the phone charger on the nightstand, the mug of cold tea, it all meant Athena slept here. Suddenly Monti felt like an intruder. Even when she’d been in a clinical setting, she’d never felt like this. She stayed put, her heart racing.
What was the right step?
What was she supposed to do next?
Athena folded her hands together. “I suppose I need to get on the bed.”
Monti cleared her throat. “Uh. Yes. Um… put your head at the foot of the bed, on top of the covers.”
Monti moved to the door to shut it, the resounding click of the knob mechanism sealing her fate in. She wasn’t sure she should be doing this. It was inappropriate, outside normal boundaries. But Athena seemed more relaxed in this room already, and if her ability to take her jacket off that swiftly was any sign, this was truly the only safe place that Athena had in this house.
They needed to honor that.
Monti needed not to screw it up.
Athena was different here. Somehow confident. Not that she wasn’t confident before, but this was a self-assurance that she lacked elsewhere. Monti shook her head. No—that wasn’t right either. This was Athena comfortable with herself. Sliding her suddenly clammy hands along her thighs, Monti looked Athena over.
“Do you mind if I lock the door? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, but I really don’t want interruptions like last time either.”
Athena pressed her lips together tightly, flicking her gaze from Monti’s face to the doorknob three times before she nodded sharply. “Yes, that’s all right.”
Monti turned the lock and walked away. The satchel she wore had three oils in it, one she was pretty sure Athena would choose, but she’d brought backups just in case. It seemed as though she’d actually made her mind up about this before she’d gotten out of the van. Hell, if she really thought about it, Monti had decided to help Athena as soon as she’d started driving in the direction of the house.
Setting the satchel on the desk, Monti pulled out the vials of oil. “I think you’ll like this one.”
Athena stepped in closer, standing almost side-by-side now. The light in the room was low, lamps on the walls instead of an overhead. It was the perfect mood setting for a massage. At least Monti wouldn’t be fighting that as well. Athena took the vial, twisting the cap off to bring it to her nose.
She hummed in pleasure. “Yes, I like this one.”
“Want to try some on your hands to see if the feel is okay?”
Athena hesitated for a moment before she nodded. Monti leaned against the desk, squeezing the contents of the plastic vial into her fingers before rubbing her hands together to wet them. She held her hands out for Athena, and then she waited.
She already knew by now that this woman had a very complicated mental process she had to go through before she made any physical connection. And sure enough, as if on cue, Athena settled her hand into Monti’s waiting fingers.
Monti started the same way she had the last two times. Often with people who clearly carried trauma, especially when it came to physical touch, the routine was the best way to keep things on an even level. So Monti worked Athena’s palm and then each of her fingers, moving around the giant diamond ring that she now took a much closer look at. She massaged one finger after the other.
“How does it feel?” she asked finally.
“Good,” Athena answered.
“Perfect.” Monti dropped one hand and snagged the other. She stayed seated at the edge of the desk, her back to the window and allowing Athena to have complete control of the room. She could walk away any time she wanted. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, but it would help immensely if you could take your bra off. Keep your shirt on, please, but the bra can make it more difficult to relieve your muscles.”
She could feel the instant Athena tightened. The way her muscles moved in repulsion against Monti’s suggestion. She’d specifically waited to have her hands on Athena’s before she suggested it, so she could see exactly where Athena held that tension.
“But if you’re uncomfortable at all, please leave it on.”
Athena’s pulse raced under Monti’s deft fingers. Monti waited, giving Athena the time to work through everything internally before she said anything out loud. Athena pulled her hand away from Monti, the oil still slick on her skin.
“It’ll be fine.”
“I’ll wait outside until you’re ready.” Monti started toward the door.
“Don’t worry about it. Stay here.” Athena stepped toward an en suite, shutting the door quietly.
It wasn’t long before she emerged. Monti was grateful for that because if it had taken Athena any longer, she really would have started to worry. Athena had her arms crossed over her chest as she stood by the corner of her large bed. It was too large for one person, but Monti wasn’t going to say anything. There was no way that bed would fit in her van.
Athena toed off her shoes and sat on the edge of the mattress, pulling herself backward until she was close to the middle. She looked at Monti, once again needing some kind of direction. She begged for it, truly. Monti stayed where she was, leaning against the desk.
“Lie on your back. That way you can still see me.”
With a deep breath, Athena moved slowly. Monti waited until she was settled and ready before walking quietly toward her. She touched Athena’s shoulder lightly and waited to have her full attention. “Are you ready?”
“I suppose.”
“Athena.” Monti had learned that using her first name eased that professional barrier down a little in a way that worked to her advantage.
“Yes. Yes, I’m ready,” Athena corrected.
“I’m going to start with your neck and shoulders, okay? Any time anything is uncomfortable or hurts, I want you to tell me.” Monti still didn’t move until Athena looked up at her and nodded. Then, and only then, did she slide her fingers through Athena’s hair, pulling it out from under her body and laying it out.
Monti poured more oil into her fingers and rubbed them together to warm them before she started. “Have you seen a professional counselor before?”
Athena’s jaw hardened, no doubt trying to find a way to avoid the direct question. Monti followed the line of muscle and pushed Athena’s head to the side to stretch it and move it. She breathed slowly, focusing her attention on Athena’s body and on what she wasn’t saying.
“Athena,” Monti tried again.
“Yes.” It was an answer to the question.
“And I assume they didn’t work.”
“They didn’t.” Athena’s eyes fluttered shut. “Can I have silence?”
“Yes.” Monti pressed her lips together hard, but she stopped asking questions. Especially intrusive ones, despite the fact that she kept thinking about them.
Every time she ended up in Athena’s presence, she wanted to know more. She wanted to figure out why Athena ticked this particular way, why she was so resistant to any kind of touch. Monti used some more oil as she enticed Athena to turn onto her front.
Her shirt shifted in the process, the tank top sliding farther over on her shoulder. Monti frowned at the skin, the sharp bright white line that was without a doubt a scar. One that had been deep and long, and another one that was quite old. She avoided touching it, especially without permission, and moved to sliding her hands up the nape of Athena’s neck as she leaned over her.
The silence was deafening because normally Monti was used to talking through these sessions. She beckoned Athena to turn back over, starting on her scalp and the craniosacral massage again. Her fingers slid through Athena’s hair, slicking it with the oil still on her fingertips. The scent wasn’t strong. In fact, it was barely there, but Monti knew it should help relax Athena even more.
Athena’s breathing deepened. It slowed. Her legs and arms twitched as she slowed into a light slumber. Monti continued the massage until she was sure that Athena was deep in sleep. Finally she pulled away, silently stepping back from the sleeping woman.
Wiping her hands on the towel in the bathroom after washing them, Monti waited to see if Athena would wake up. Still she rested. Monti couldn’t leave her here alone, not with the way she had woken up the last time. She would need some sort of care afterward.
Monti pulled a throw over Athena’s body, making sure that she was covered. Then she turned around the room and tried to figure out what to do next. Three books were stacked on the corner of the desk. With nothing else to do, Monti snagged the one on top and smiled at the familiar cover. She slid into the desk chair and began reading. She would wait until Athena woke.
Then they could start the real work.
eight
Warmth.
Athena was cocooned in it. The fingers of sleep surrounded her and pulled at her, trying to keep her under their spell. Yet at the same time, sunlight brushed across her skin, and she could feel the warm rays tickling her flesh and teasing her into wakefulness.
Is this what it was like?
Turning on her side, Athena reached for her pillow to pull it under her chest and maybe catch a few more minutes of slumber. But when she stretched out her arm, she was met with nothing but her cold comforter. Wrinkling her nose with dissatisfaction, Athena stretched her fingers out. The bed was cold. But she was so warm, so filled with rest.
On her back again, Athena blinked her eyes awake and stared at the ceiling above her. It took her more time than she cared to admit to clear her vision and focus on the pattern of the molding. Her breaths were deep and slow still, and she felt a sense of peace within her in a way it hadn’t ever been before.
Athena ran through her body, stretching her muscles starting with her toes and working her way up. She felt amazing. Energy coursed through her. She wouldn’t even need that extra cup of coffee for the jolt of caffeine that morning. Maybe she could do without it entirely? She smiled at that. Who was she kidding? She’d never do without that.
Stretching her arms above her head, she teased the muscles in her back into submission. Who was she and what had she done with the person who couldn’t sleep? This was exactly what she’d needed. She would have to send Monti something as a thank you or give her the world’s biggest tip when she told Fallon to pay her.
