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twenty-one

Olive

I flop onto my bed, sinking into the plush mattress and numerous pillows. My head is so jumbled today. I’m a mess on a good day, but kissing Lane seems to have my mind running on overdrive.

I can’t believe how much I like him already. I also can’t believe I keep getting turned on around him. It is nice, though, to see that my reproductive system works after all. I wasn’t so sure about that anymore.

I grab my phone and doom-scroll through Instagram when a call lights up my screen. I can’t help but smile when I see Lane’s name.

“Hey, Hotshot,” I say as I bring the phone to my ear.

“Love to hear you call me hot.” I can hear his smug smirk through the phone.

“I said hotshot, not hot.”

“You denying I’m hot, Ballerina?”

“No,” I reply honestly. “Especially when you take your shirt off.”

His laugh is deep and needy. “Never gonna wear a shirt around you again then, baby.”

“You really can’t help but constantly flirt with me, can you?”

“Second nature with you, Liv. Can’t control myself.”

I bite down a smile, loving how forthcoming he is with me. It makes me feel strong and powerful to have such an impact on somebody.

“So, what are you calling for?” I ask, twirling my hair around my finger like I’m a schoolgirl with a crush.

I think that’s half right.

“I haven’t heard from you since you left this morning.”

“You mean you haven’t seen me since Harvey awkwardly stared at us when you kissed me?”

Lane’s laughter echoes through the phone. “Just a little voyeurism for your Sunday morning.”

I shudder. “No, thank you.” I scrub a hand down my face to erase the thought that Lane just put into my head, instead focusing on why he called. “Did you miss me today, Hotshot?”

“Yeah, I did,” he says confidently, his voice deeper. “Given how I’ve been expressing my interest in you, that can’t be a surprise.”

Heat creeps up my neck. “Not a surprise,” I say softly. “But it’s always good to have a confidence booster.”

“Mmm, I’ll boost your confidence anytime you need, baby.”

“So what are you doing right now, Lane?”

“Just slipped into bed,” he states, voice strained like he’s stretching. “Sage fell asleep about an hour ago, so I took a shower. Now, I’m going to wind down for the night. And you’ll be happy to know that I’m shirtless again, too.”

I groan. “I regret telling you that.”

“Hey, I don’t mind a good confidence booster either. Like to know you’re looking at me. It makes me feel good.”

“Oh, please,” I scoff. “You have women staring at you every time you leave your penthouse, I bet.”

“Olive, you’re the only one I’m looking at,” Lane assures me. “They might be looking at me, but I sure as hell don’t see them.”

My insecurities rear back to the surface. “But why?” I ask softly. “They’re probably way less damaged than I am.”

“Fuck them,” he states emphatically. “I don’t care about them, Liv. I care about you.”

“Sorry,” I sigh. “I still struggle sometimes. I’ve been working on it in therapy for years.”

“Then allow me to boost your confidence again. You think you’re not enough to hold my attention, but don’t forget it was you who made me hard yesterday. Twice.”

“Oh my God,” I blush, no doubt turning a deep shade of scarlet. “Did you, uh… take care of that?”

His laugh is raucous and deep. “Olive,” he says, still fighting a fit of giggles. “Are you asking if I masturbated while thinking of you?”

“No!” I shout, blushing even deeper. “I didn’t ask if you were thinking about me.”

“So you’re just asking if I masturbated in general?” I hear his smirk.

I cover my face with my free hand and will the ground to open and swallow me whole. “Can we stop saying masturbate?”

“Not until I answer your question.” Lane’s voice turns husky, bringing back that now-familiar sensation. “Yes, Olive. I did ‘take care of that.’ And since I’m not one to lie or withhold information, I did indeed think about you while I did.”

“Oh my God,” I breathe. Suddenly, I’m dizzy, as if the room is spinning, and I can’t find my footing.

“Don’t take that as pressure,” he interjects. “I just like you to know exactly where my head is at.”

“R-right,” I stammer.

“Am I coming on too strong now?”

“No,” I shake my head. “I just have to get used to it.”

“Why don’t you get some beauty sleep, Ballerina? You sure as hell don’t need it, but you got up early this morning.”

“Yeah,” I say, pretending to yawn. “That seems like a good idea. Good night, Lane.”

“Good night, Olive.”

As soon as the call disconnects, I toss my phone on the bed and take a deep breath.

I don’t know how to feel right now.

Scratch that—maybe I do because that feeling is still there. The one Lucia so eloquently put into words for me.

I’m horny hearing about how my student’s father got himself off while thinking of me.

And that has me wondering…

Should I… try that?

I don’t know what I’m doing, and the idea gives me anxiety, but the more I reclaim myself, the more I desire to have the experiences I missed out on or just haven’t had.

It’s how I find myself slipping my hand into my leggings, resting it between my thighs. I slide one finger inside myself, and I audibly gasp. It feels… good. It feels even better when I move that finger in and out.

But it’s not getting me there . I try, and I try, and I try again, but no amount of pumping pulls me over the edge. I may not have ever had an orgasm, but I know I should still be able to make it happen.

But I can’t.

Maybe I’m too in my head. Maybe I’m overthinking everything.

All I know for sure is that while my reproductive system may be semi-functional, I sure as hell don’t know how to use it.

“How was your weekend, Olive?”

I look over at Corinne from my spot on the plush sofa in her office and give her a soft smile. “I actually had a really great weekend.”

“That’s wonderful,” she smiles. “What did you do?”

“Well, one of my new friends got engaged on Saturday. We all gathered at her and her now-fiancé‘s place for a surprise party to celebrate them. It was really nice.”

“Was Lane there as well?”

“He was. Her fiancé is one of Lane’s teammates, so he and Sage were both there. I had a good time hanging out with my friends and spending more time with Lane. I kind of kissed him after the party.”

Corinne looks at me over the rim of her glasses, a playful smirk on her face. “Is that so?”

“Yes,” I blush. “We had a moment before the party where it seemed like he was going to kiss me, but we were interrupted by one of our friends. When I asked him about it afterward, he said he wanted to kiss me, so I decided to just kiss him instead.”

“You’ve come a long way, Olive. Even a year ago, I’m not sure you would have had the confidence to do that.”

“I don’t think I would have either,” I sigh. “I was already doing better before I met him, but Lane has honestly been really great for me, too. He’s open and honest. I can’t doubt myself as easily when he tells me exactly what he’s thinking.”

“You really have been spending a lot of time with Lane, haven’t you?” Corinne asks.

“I have. I ended up staying with him Saturday night. And we talked for a while on the phone last night.”

“I think it’s great that you’re putting yourself out there,” she smiles. “How has everything else been?”

“Well, I haven’t had any more nightmares, so that’s been nice.” I fidget with the hem of my sweater now, growing more uncomfortable. “I also, uh… tried to take care of myself last night. But I couldn’t climax.”

“Why do you think that is?”

“I’m not sure,” I admit. “It’s not like I have any usable experience, so I don’t know what I’m doing. But maybe I was overthinking it. All I know is that I tried, and it didn’t work.”

Corinne sits back against her chair, placing her clipboard on her lap.

“You’ve gone through some very tough things, Olive.

It’s hard to overcome your trauma, but trying to satisfy your needs now is a great step.

The more you try, the more likely you’ll be able to get out of your head and be successful. ”

I let out a deep breath.

As uncomfortable as I am surrounding all things sex, I can talk to Corinne about anything. We’ve established a great relationship since I started seeing her.

Hopefully, discussing this issue with her will help me get out of my head.

And when I get out of my head, maybe I can finally stop shying away from all things intimacy.