Cocking an eyebrow, he challenged me with a single look. “Thought you said you didn’t need a fancy degree to help people.”
“Damn it,” I muttered. “I hate it when my own words come back to bite me in the butt.”
“Just get on Google or whatever you do and look up tips to help me,” he urged, “like you did for that kid with the nightmares. If anyone can fix me, it’s you.” He pressed his forehead to mine. “Only you.”
“No pressure or anything,” I grumbled even as I curled in close to his warmth.
“Nah. You got this.”
Almost a week passed after City convinced me it just wasn’t possible to keep my distance from her...in any capacity. It was the best damn week of my life. Once I stopped trying to do what I thought was best for her and I stopped pushing her away, life got infinitely better. Gone was the miserable aching want, lost was my sullen disposition, plus a good portion of my pent-up anger and aggression went poof. I mean, I didn’t turn into a sappy pansy ass or anything, but City said I definitely lost my broodiness.
The best part of giving into temptation was finally having her whenever I wanted her. We turned into one of those crazy, horny couples who had to break in every room in our apartment…daily. I just couldn’t keep my hands off her, and she didn’t seem to mind. Half the time, she was the one attacking me.
Yeah, I didn’t mind that either.
But there were still issues; I couldn’t be fixed overnight. I continued to worry, afraid of what I could do, but City had a way of forcing me to work through it, even if it was to say, “Go punch something. It’s okay.”
I’d yet to make it through a full “session” with her when she tried to talk to me about my prison years. I typically took off early to go work it off at the gym. But she insisted we were making progress after I lasted through eighteen minutes, compared to four the first time, before I had to escape.
She discovered after some research that my violent outbursts were a form of anxiety attacks. So she tried to tackle that issue, and told me we’d already cleared step one by even identifying what prompted my episodes. When she read that breathing techniques, diversionary tactics, and working out helped—all things I already did at Speedy’s—she really began to advocate my gym time.
A couple days, she went with me. Our first trip there together, she tried to work out alongside me, but gave up ten minutes in. After that, she only observed. She said she loved watching me box best, and I had to believe her because she jumped me in the changing room showers afterward, and I was so right. Everything was better when it was dirty.
Friday was the next night we worked together. For some reason, I felt nervous walking into Forbidden with her, and I wasn’t sure why…until we entered and Ten immediately hooted, “All right! Parker finally got laid!”