Page 12 of Cruising with You (Swenson Sweethearts)

Nora

T he open room is so quiet that I’m pretty sure you could hear a pin drop as we wait for Dr. Lorringer to begin.

It’s funny; she’s spent the last ten minutes sitting at the edge of the room while watching the couples interact.

But because everyone knows who she is, thanks to the headshot plastered on one of the walls with the words Dr. Lorringer, couple’s therapist and author of the New York Times’ Best-Selling Novel, Keep the Spark: The Secret to a Healthy, Passionate, and Lasting Relationship typed beneath it, no one has moved a muscle.

The place is set up similarly to the couple’s massage class with yoga mats for chairs.

All of the other furniture has been pushed to the perimeter of the room.

The only differences are that we’re not really in a circle, and there are twice as many people attending.

The majority are wearing pins and share mats with their partners.

I glance over at Gage and take in his chiseled profile that showcases his sexy mouth and strong jaw. I know there’s a red tag sticking to his shirt that says he’s off the market, but I kind of want to lick him like a lollipop to claim him as my own and keep the other cuter girls away from the guy.

And I kind of want to lick him because he’s hot as hell too.

Yeah, I’m gonna go ahead and guess that passion won’t be an issue for us. Not after our little massage session, anyway. I have never truly understood the phrase hot and bothered until that moment. I sneak another peek at Gage, then snap my head forward when I realize I’ve been caught.

Still, from my periphery, a very satisfied Gage leans down and whispers in my ear, “Call it a hunch, but I don’t think we’re going to have a very big problem with the whole passion part. You sure we need to be here?”

“I was just thinking the same thing, but regardless of whatever’s going on with…

us, I’m supposed to be here to shadow the event in case anyone needs anything.

Maybe we can learn a thing or two, though.

I mean, I didn’t expect to learn much from the couple’s massage workshop and ended up enjoying it. Did you?”

His deep chuckle causes my stomach to tighten. “I think we both know how much I enjoyed that class. And if this one can get you on top of me again, you won’t hear me complaining.”

“Noted,” I flirt as the woman of the hour finally sways toward the center of the room.

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the Build Your Passion With Your Partner workshop! I am so happy that you’ve ventured in to join us today.

I see a few familiar faces in the crowd.

Thank you for joining me again on this journey.

I was so impressed by the copious amount of emails I received that mentioned you and your partner are solely here to hear me speak.

It’s a very humbling experience to stand before you today, so I thank you for your support.

Building passion with a partner might sound easy to some of you.

To others, it could sound quite intimidating or downright scary.

We’re here this evening to talk about the importance of that passion.

Not only on a physical level but on an emotional one, as well.

To most of you, this is where it gets scary.

Raise your hand if you’ve been hurt in the past.” Dr. Lorringer looks around the room as hands start popping up like dandelions.

With a gentle nod that I’m pretty sure she isn’t even aware she’s doing, she continues, “Raise your hand if one of your friends or family members has ever been hurt, or if you’ve been the one to hurt someone else? ”

More hands rise, including mine and Gage’s. I swallow thickly as my eyes zero in on his calloused palm hanging in the air. Has someone he’s close to been hurt? Or did he do the hurting and hasn’t told me? My breath catches in my throat.

“Thank you for sharing a little piece of your vulnerability with us. This is the first step to really opening yourself to love and passion. Now, I’m seeing a few ghostly pale people in the audience,” she teases, breaking the heaviness of her previous statement with a few laughs.

“Don’t worry. We’ll be discussing plenty of ways to spark the physical side of passion, as well.

But first, I want to cover the nitty-gritty that no one likes to talk about, then we’ll move to the more fun portion. Does that sound good to everyone?”

The crowd stays silent. Whether it’s because they’re anxious for her to continue, or if they’re trying to figure out whether or not they want to stay and dissect old wounds, I don’t know.

But it’s enough to make me squirm in my seat, which happens to be a weathered, lavender yoga mat.

It’s facing the long way, which gives Gage plenty of room to sit beside me while resting with his legs crossed out in front of him.

“I’ll take your silence as a yes,” Dr. Lorringer quips.

“So, this is usually the most brutal part where I ask for volunteers to share their stories. It usually goes one of two ways. Either everyone’s hands are in the air, or none are.

So, instead, we’re going to own our vulnerability, and I’m going to choose someone that has already given their approval for being a guinea pig.

Let’s all give our host for the evening, Nora Daniels, a round of applause. ”

While clapping ensues, my butt stays glued to the floor.

Given their approval? Bullshit. Nope. No, thank you. I’m good.

Looking around the room, Dr. Lorringer repeats, “Nora? Nora Daniels?”

With a curse on the tip of my tongue, I start to push myself up when Gage grabs my arm and whispers, “Did you volunteer for this?”

“No, but I have a hunch that Gem volunteered for me,” I grit out before standing to my full height.

“There she is! Thank you so much, Nora. Will you please bring your partner, as well?”

My eyes are the size of saucers as I look down at Gage.

Appearing less than amused, the saint stands up beside me, then presses his hand to my lower back and guides me to the front of the room. I can feel everyone’s eyes on us as we stand awkwardly side by side and wait for Dr. Lorringer to dive right in.

“Thank you for being so accommodating. Obviously, you’re Nora Daniels, and what is your partner’s name?”

“Umm…he’s, uh…”––I motion to him––“this is Gage.”

“It’s nice to meet you both. Can we give them another round of applause?” More clapping ensues. “I assume you are a new couple. Is that correct?”

“How could you tell?” Gage razzes before tossing his arm over my shoulder and pulling me into his side. I gotta give him props; he’s definitely rolling with the punches, while I’m standing here like a bump on a log.

“Because I see two individuals in front of me who have yet to really connect on a deeper level. Either you’re both keeping each other at a distance, or the relationship is simply too new, and you haven’t quite figured out how to cultivate a lasting connection.

Yes, I see a few roots here and there that are fighting to take hold, but it hasn’t happened yet. ”

She doesn’t bother to ask us if she’s correct, but it doesn’t stop Gage from countering, “Aww, come on. What are you talking about? I proposed to her the first time we met. If those aren’t roots, then I don’t know what are.”

I laugh, though inside a little voice shouts, Kill me. Kill me now.

This is so awkward.

“You proposed?” Dr. Lorringer prods.

“I wanted to break the ice with a pretty girl,” Gage explains with a casual shrug.

“And a proposal seemed like the easiest way to break it?”

“My friends and I were talking about a friend who had just gotten engaged a few minutes before I met Nora. I guess the idea stuck.”

“Do you think it might’ve been a defense mechanism, by chance? You were afraid you’d never get married and wanted to experience a bit of the high that comes with such a monumental commitment, then you saw a pretty girl and thought, ‘Why not?’”

“What? No. I mean, yes, she’s pretty but….” His arm drops from around my shoulders as he squeezes the back of his neck. “I don’t want to get married. That’s not really on my radar.”

“Which is why my comment holds even more merit. From how little I know of you––so, yes, take that into consideration––I’ve gotten a very strong feeling that you’re not interested in that type of commitment, which you just admitted.

Yet, you were willing to propose to a complete stranger, even if it was only for a moment because a small piece of you is searching for that type of connection with someone and the commitment that goes along with it. ”

My gaze bounces between the two like a tennis ball during a tennis match.

This is not good. This is so not good.

I can feel the tension radiating off him like it’s my own.

He doesn’t like being psychoanalyzed, especially in front of a group of strangers.

Or maybe it’s my presence that’s making him so uncomfortable.

He’s never minded being the center of attention before now.

I don’t blame him for being frustrated, though.

My skin is itchy with the knowledge that I’m next. And I’m not going to like it.

Seriously. I’m going to kill Gem.

When Gage remains quiet, Dr. Lorringer presses, “Care to tell us why you’re so afraid of commitment?”

“I’m not afraid. I just don’t want it.”

“Why? You need to dig deeper. No one just doesn’t want it.”

“I don’t.”

“Hmmm,” she hums, clearly unconvinced. “Can I ask what happens when you’re sick?”

“What do you mean?” Gage asks. He’s not the only one confused by the abrupt subject change.

“When you’re sick, who takes care of you?”

“Uh…myself?”

Turning to me, she asks, “Nora, have you ever taken care of a loved one? Whether it’s a grandparent, a sibling, a lover, or a child?”

“My nephew,” I offer, though I could follow it with another ten names if she needed me to.

“Care to give us an example?”