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I think about texting him, but I don’t want to give in. Clearly, my body is on a whole different page, but I’d like to keep some semblance of autonomy. Of dignity.
I’ve felt trapped before, back in Eastern Tennessee. In that small town. I don’t want to feel that way again, even if it is with a dangerously sexy man who knows how to push all my buttons. It’s like he’s read my manual and studied it.
But the worst thing I can do is not be…free.
9
Raeann
Now that I know what Micah’s car looks like, I swear I see it everywhere. On my morning jogs with Athena, when I happen to glance outside Pet Threads’s picture window. I even looked up the make and model. Mercedes G-Class.
By the time the following Wednesday rolls around, I’m on edge. Not only is our date weighing on me, but so is the way he approached it. Demanding I text him. Insinuating I would touch myself like he knew I would. I should never have given in. Now I can’t have an O unless I think of him. I even tried to think of my old trusty hotties. Chris Hemsworth. The Miz. An older Justin Timberlake.
Nothing.
I end up shaky with the pent-up pressure until Micah Freeman’s voice hits my head. Then I launch like a rocket.
This morning, I stopped in the middle. I clenched the sheets, staring at the ceiling, waiting for the feelings to subside before I stalked off to the bathroom to get ready. Now, I’m only two-thirds present, and the other third is still thinking I’m broken.
And it’s all Micah Freeman’s fault.
“That doesn’t go in there.”
“Huh?”
A hand falls on mine, stopping me from shoving a black-and-gold dress from the middie line into a bag. It’s nine thirty in the morning, and I feel like I’ve worked all day already. Instead of lying out in her perfect sun-swathed bed, Athena is in here with me, at my feet.
“Girl, I love you, but you are causing chaos. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” I say curtly. Tab’s lip quirks, and she shakes her head. “What? I mean it. Absolutely nothing is wrong.”Other than my clit is broken and it’s never been broken and I don’t know how to fix it.
“You’re on edge, Rae-bae. You’re, like, in another dimension mirroring this one. You’re still here, but it’s like you don’t live here, you’re only visiting.”
“That was a lot of words with little substance.”
She shakes her head again. “Just call him. Text him. Something. Because you are driving me crazy.”
I think about playing coy, but it’s no use. Tab is my best friend, and she was a witness to most of what happened. The morning after, I fessed up about the credit card actually having my name on it, but instead of seeing all the crazy in this, she thinks it’s some sort of Cinderella story.
In my story, though, Cinderella saves herself. Something I’m already doing. I peer down at the orders for today laid out on our workbench. I don’t need him to save me.
“Even if you call him to give the credit card back, do it.”
“He might be a psychopath.”
“He’s freaking Micah Freeman. He’s wooing you the way he knows how.”
“Say the word, and I’ll end your suffering.”His words repeat in my head.He knew what was going to happen, and maybethat’s why I’m vehemently not behind getting in touch with him. Sure, I made a crazy video about him, but that doesn’t mean he can control my body like this.
“You’re in your head,” Tab chimes in.
She’s completely right. I should go upstairs right now, close the door, and prove to myself I can get off without thinking of him. Then I can put all this silly business behind me. Micah Freeman wooing me? Please.
A knock sounds on the main door. Tab and I peer at each other, and one of us looks more excited than I feel. My stomach twists, but Tab practically races to the front. She’s probably thinking the same thing I am, but goddamnit, I can’t get my feet to move. My brain doesn’t connect with my physical legs like it used to, so I get out there five seconds later than she does.
Athena easily scrambles ahead of me, and by the time I peek around the corner, disappointment hits. Quickly, I try to switch the emotion. Not disappointment… Relief. That’s what I should be feeling.
“We’re closed,” Tab announces to the nice-looking early-twenty-something kid peering in the glass door.