“I should go,” he roughs out, still kissing me.
I secure my hands behind his head and steal several more. “You totally should.”
“We’re only supposed to be taking five minutes,” he adds, making no attempt to endorse his words with action.
“So go,” I say, grinning through another kiss.
He groans, and finally pulls back. “Okay, but… gah!” I’ve never seen a person look so frustrated. I love how I can read everything he feels. Viv’s right. He’s the opposite of my guarded poise.
He’s fire. I’m water.
I spread my hand over his cheek and draw him back to me.
“Relax. I’ll come up tonight. We can talk as much as, and as deeply as, we want.”
His eyes search mine, relieved. Then darken again. “Wait, no. I can’t. I’m taking Naomi to her first session with a counselor.”
“After that then?”
He exhales a heavy sigh. “Yeah, maybe. After,” he says more firmly through one last kiss. He pulls back, and my body already feels cold and needy from the separation. I watch him the entire time he backs from the room, staring with the same unspoken lust raging through me.
Eye-fuck.
I’d smile at Viv’s rare indulgence in a naughty word if it wasn’t such a visceral reality for me in this moment. I don’t even breathe until he finally disappears from view and frees me from that scalding connection.
Yeah, not sure how I’m supposed to survive the rest of this rehearsal.
CHAPTER 17
JULIAN
“Uncle Julian?”
“What’s up?” I glance over at Naomi as we wait outside the counselor’s office. I smile when I notice her knee is bouncing to the same rhythm of my fingers tapping the armrest. We’re both nervous about this, but some therapy is long overdue. I found this psychologist who specializes in pediatric counseling as well as grief and was willing to make time for us after hours when I explained the situation.
“Would you… I mean… if you want…” She shakes her head and looks away, her foot swinging in and out beneath the chair.
“Would I what? Be your date to the Spring Fling? Sure, but it might be kinda weird.”
A grin slips over her lips as she rolls her eyes. “Ew. No. Cringey.” Her gaze settles on the closed door. “It’s just that… would you want to go in with me?”
Her teeth sink into her lip as she looks away and swings her feet in more violent arcs.
Stunned, I don’t know what to say at first. “Uh… sure. I mean, are you sure? I’m fine waiting out here if you’d rather talk to her alone.”
She shakes her head, her small hand suddenly clutching mine on the armrest. “I think I want you there. Just for the first one at least.”
“Of course.” I squeeze her fingers, and we sit in silence until the counselor opens the door. No client comes out, which seems strange, but the counselor’s smile is warm and sincere.
“Naomi?” she asks.
My niece stiffens, her hand tightening around mine. She nods and stares up at the woman with wide eyes.
“It’s so nice to meet you,” she says brightly, moving forward with her hand outstretched. “I’m Veronica. You want to come in and hang with me for a bit?”
Naomi shakes her hand and darts her gaze to me. I can tell she’s flustered by the unexpected greeting, but not totally hating it.
“Um, okay,” she says, rising from the chair. “Can my uncle come too?” There’s a slight plea in her voice, and I pray Veronica is up for it.
She smiles and extends her hand to me. “Julian, right? We spoke on the phone.”
I nod and force a return smile. “That’s right.”
She focuses back on Naomi. “If you’re cool with it, I’m cool with it.”
Naomi’s shoulders relax as we follow the woman into her office. She shuts the door, and it’s then that I notice the additional exit to the parking lot on the other side of her office.
“For privacy,” she says to me, then catches Naomi’s gaze. “That way no one will ever know you’re here unless you tell them.”
Naomi nods, color returning to her face for the first time since we pulled into the lot.
“Please, get comfortable,” she says to Naomi, waving toward a cluster of seating options. What looks like a kid-sized easy chair is next to a few different straight back chairs decorated with assorted cartoon characters… and is that a beanbag chair? It’s black, so of course that’s what Naomi plops into.
I smile to myself as she settles in.
“You can sit back there in the adult chair,” Veronica says to me, motioning toward a seat behind Naomi. I realize when I sit that Naomi wouldn’t be able to see me from this angle. She’ll be forced to focus on the counselor and maybe forget about me altogether once she gets more comfortable.
Veronica shocks both of us by dropping to the carpet in front of Naomi and crossing her legs. “So your uncle tells me you’re into music, Naomi. What do you play?”
“Um, nothing really yet, but I’m learning guitar.”
“Seriously? Wow! Do you have your own guitar?”
Naomi nods, twisting a look back at me. I just return her smile when Veronica shakes her head at me over Naomi’s shoulder.
Naomi turns back and faces her again. “Yeah. Uncle Julian got it for me. It’s a Martin.”
“Oh, a Martin. I’ve heard those are good guitars.”
Naomi straightens a little, even leaning forward slightly. “Yeah, and he has a Taylor. It’s really expensive but he likes the action high and we had to lower it for me.”
“The action?”
Naomi nods, leaning toward her even further. “Yeah, it’s like, how close the strings are to the frets. So when you play”—she holds out her arms to demonstrate—“You don’t have to push as hard if it’s low action, but it can also buzz if it’s too low. You have to find that perfect fit for you.”
“Huh, I never knew that,” Veronica says, raising her eyebrows and nodding.
They continue like this for several minutes, Veronica prompting Naomi with questions that seem more suitable for a slumber party than a counseling session. Most are geared around music, once it becomes clear that’s Naomi’s favorite topic. She tells Veronica about the song we’re writing, how I’m a big famous rockstar (I’m not), and the time she got to hang out with my bandmate Genevieve Fox who is now Viv Hastings in case she didn’t know.
Within five minutes, Naomi is totally engaged, perching on the edge of her seat, using hand motions as much as words in their back-and-forth. Ten minutes in, I realize she hasn’t looked at me once since that initial check in the beginning.
“Wow, so it sounds like you’re really enjoying living with your uncle.”
She shrugs. “Yeah, he’s cool.”
“How’d you end up living at his place?”
Naomi glances back at me again for the first time since the beginning. I clench my fist around the armrest and force myself to do nothing but offer another encouraging nod. She twists back to the front, and I see the rise and fall of a deep breath.