Chapter Eleven

 

Rory

 

“You need to leave, he’s going to be here any minute.”

Krew made no motion to get off the couch where he was lying back with Samson curled up on his chest. “Are you going to tell him everything?”

“I don’t know. Come on, get out.”

“Rory, sweetheart, you’re being rude.”

“It’s not rude when I’ve been asking you to leave for over two hours, and you’re still lying there with the dumb cat.”

Krew scoffed and kissed Samson’s head. “Don’t listen to him, baby. He didn’t mean that.”

“I did so,” I grumbled, snagging my smokes from the table then thinking twice and throwing them down again.

Krew grinned as he removed Samson from his chest and placed him on the ground. “You’ve got it bad, Rory.”

“It doesn’t matter what I feel, he’s my counselor, and he’s made it clear nothing can happen.”

“But he wants it to, that much was evident on Saturday night. Anyone could tell just by looking at the pair of you at the bar. That man had hearts in his eyes.”

“And a gallon of alcohol in his blood, thanks to you.”

I waited with my arms crossed while Krew decided if he was going to put his shoes on and leave.

“Speaking of Saturday night, do you know what happened with me?” His eyes lit up, and his grin was nauseating.

“I’m guessing you finally got your threesome with bachelor number three and Francois. Now go.”

He curled his nose like I’d ruined his surprise. “For that, you get no details.”

“Don’t want them. Leave.”

“Can’t I just wait in the bedroom?” he whined. “I don’t want to go to Jed’s. I hate it there.”

“Then ride your landlord’s ass so you can go home. I’m not exactly impressed with the situation either.” I motioned dramatically at the cat who was taking that opportunity to clean his ass on my couch.

“Eww, my landlord is like sixty and saggy, doll, that is just not a man whose ass I want anything to do with.”

When a knock sounded at the door, I washed a hand down my face. “He’s here. You’re not staying. Go hang out at Bottoms Up, I’ll find you when I’m done.”

The drama reached an all-time high as he flung his arms up in disgust and sulked as he found his shoes. Once they were on, I answered the door. Adrian radiated nerves and discomfort, but when he saw Krew, it changed to confusion and a hint of something I couldn’t quite define.

“He’s leaving,” I informed Adrian by way of greeting.

Krew rolled his eyes and was all smiles again when he turned to Adrian. “Good to see you again, sugar. Rory’s mood needs a good tempering if you know what I mean. Good luck tonight.”

He slinked past Adrian when I went to shove him and disappeared down the hall toward the elevators.

“Ignore him. He has nothing better to do than interfere with my life.”

Adrian’s gaze drifted from the hallway where Krew had gone back to me. “Hi.”

“Come on in.”

He entered and placed his shoulder bag against the wall by the door before digging out the familiar brown folder I knew contained all the information he was slowly gathering about me. I’d promised he would get more answers that night, but the reality of that happening was still up in the air.

I moved to the couch, allowing him to have the chair where he had taken to sitting when we met. I regretted not having a smoke before he got there, because the craving was at its peak the moment he walked in.

He didn’t sit. Hovering near the door, he clutched his folder to his chest and adjusted his glasses. I was beginning to recognize it as a nervous habit.

“Before we start, I need to apologize for my unprofessionalism on Saturday night. Under no circumstance should I have gone for drinks with you or stayed at your apartment. The lines between counselor and client were breached, and I’m ashamed for the part I played. If you feel the need to report my behavior, I will—”

“Adrian.” He clamped his mouth shut and scanned the room, avoiding making eye contact. When he focused on the single low light Krew had turned on earlier, I saw a glimmer in his eyes behind his glasses. “If you want to forget Saturday ever happened, fine. I’m not going to report you, so please sit down. I told you I’d remember my role in all this, and I will.”

He nodded. It was stiff and robotic. When he sat, he opened the folder and clicked his pen. I didn’t know where he would choose to start when it came to questions, but I knew one area where I could probably be more transparent without digging too deeply into my past. For that reason, I jumped in before he could start.

“Being in sunlight and being in artificial light cause different reactions in me. Some of those elements are common to both, but the worst of my symptoms surface with sunlight.”

I found it easier to focus on the coffee table when I talked instead of Adrian’s face. I didn’t want to know how my revelation affected him.

“Can you tell me what happens?” he encouraged.

I nodded and took a deep breath. If I wasn’t careful, I could cause phantom symptoms to appear even at almost midnight in a poorly lit room.

“It generally starts with a sensation of my skin tingling. Especially the parts of my body that are exposed. I sweat, and the hairs on my arms rise. Eventually, it turns into more of a burning sensation. Instinctively, I try to rub the feeling away, but it only gets worse. My heart races, especially when paralysis sets in, and I have no means of escaping.”

“Paralysis?”

“It’s how it feels. My muscles and joints tighten and become stiff. I can’t move or get away. The agony becomes so intense, I’ve been known to pass out. I think that’s what scares me the most. That if I’m exposed, I can’t get away, and I just keep burning and burning, like I’m being roasted alive.”

My pack of cigarettes became my whole focus as my skin tingled and the hairs on my nape rose. Beads of sweat formed on my forehead, and before Adrian could ask more questions, I jumped up.

“I need a minute.”

I snagged my smokes and shot out onto the balcony for some fresh air. The moon glistened off the calm waters, shimmering like broken glass. The air was pleasantly warm but cool enough to calm the fires burning over my skin at the reminder of my fucked-up life. I smoked through one cigarette far too quickly and lit a second as I leaned on the railing and surveyed the dark world beyond.

Adrian didn’t join me. I think he understood enough to leave me alone so I could gather my strength if he wanted me to continue. For the most part, I avoided those uncomfortable, crippling reactions to sunlight. On occasion, there were brief moments of reminders, like when the cat knocked my curtains aside, where I knew for certain I was no better.

Telling Adrian as much as I had left my vulnerable side completely exposed. I hated him seeing me like that. Krew knowing got on my nerves, but Adrian knowing made me feel weak, and it was not a position I wished him to see.

Weak was something I’d been for too long—most of my life. In six years, I’d grown stronger than I ever imagined being. But that strength was my outer shell, my defense. In my core, I carried that weakness everywhere I went. It was part of the uncomfortable darkness within that I couldn’t seem to shake. That lingering shadow I hated so much.

When I finished my second smoke, I pulled my shit together and went back inside. Adrian was busy making notes in his folder but sat upright the moment he saw me, his pen stilling. Whatever it was about him snagged me at that moment and sent a tremor right to my core. His innocence radiated in everything he did, and I got the feeling it bothered him that he couldn’t display a more hardcore, professional exterior when around me. How much of his inner fire had been stomped out by his roommates, or worse, the long trail of bullies that had followed him his whole life?

His plump lips were parted enough that when his tongue traced his bottom teeth, I could follow the movement. It stirred a whole different tingling sensation to the surface. One that was far more pleasurable but no less paralyzing.

“Is everything okay?” he asked.

No, it wasn’t okay. There were barriers between us I wanted to tear down. The flirty intensity of his desire the other night was stuck in my head. How close he’d been to throwing caution to the wind and crossing lines. Because of that night, I knew I wasn’t alone in the way I felt, but his firm countenance and little speech when he showed up informed me where those mutual feelings were going.

Nowhere.

“Would you like a drink or something?”

“No, thank you.”

I steered toward the kitchen, needing another minute before I could dive back into laying my life at Adrian’s feet. Beer would have been my first choice, but I picked water instead since we were being professional and all.

Back in the living room, I sat on the edge of the couch and waited for directions. I’d said a lot already and didn’t know where to go from there.

When Adrian registered I wasn’t about to start, he shuffled his papers aside and asked, “What about artificial light? I’ve seen you in varying degrees of exposure since I met you. Maybe you can give me a better idea of how that works.”

I pursed my lips and watched him. When I focused more readily on his actions and kept him under scrutiny, he squirmed. It had everything to do with the intensity we both felt when our eyes met. Only, I seemed to handle it better than him.

“It’s never paralyzing. Like I’ve said before, I used to be able to handle it to a degree. Being in lit rooms makes my heart flutter more erratically. My skin itches and tingles uncomfortably, but the intense burning isn’t there. I just feel sensitive all over. If I’m stressed out, or… things in my head are overwhelming me… I tend to need more layers of darkness to feel comfortable again.”

“Like wearing sunglasses?”

“Yeah. Or a hoodie, so I can draw up the hood and block out the excess light on all sides too. On those days, I don’t let Krew turn the light on.” I nodded to the end table and the lamp which shone with the dimmest yellow bulb available and which was covered with a dark shade. “That is my limit. Krew hates complete darkness. Tells me it gives him the willies, and if I don’t adapt to some light, he’s going to start calling me his little vampire pet.”

Adrian went quiet. Something I couldn’t quite identify gleamed from behind his eyes as he tried to cover a frown. It was the same look I’d seen at the door, but I still couldn’t place its meaning. I didn’t know what else to share. Unless I was treading into dangerous territories, I’d said all I could say. And I wasn’t prepared to go into more details that day.

“Umm… So, it was because of Krew’s insistence that you came to us for help?”

“Yeah. He hates seeing me struggle.”

Samson strutted into the room from the hallway and weaved around Adrian’s ankles, meowing and ordering himself a petting. Obliging, Adrian scratched his fingers over Samson’s back as he stared into nothingness, a frown firmly in place.

“And this is his cat?”

“Yes.”

“Is Krew here a lot?” The moment he asked, his eyes darted to mine, and he shook his head. “Never mind. It’s none of my business.”

Did I hear a hint of jealousy? Or annoyance? Was that what was in that look?

Because I didn’t want him carrying any preconceived notions about Krew that were untrue, I chose to answer his withdrawn question.

“He is here a lot. I live a lonely life, and he’s the only friend I have. But that’s all he is… a friend.”

No sense explaining the casual side activities we’d shared because it wasn’t like it was ever done in a romantic way or to express deeper feelings. It had always been purely a means of getting off, scratching an itch. Besides, unless Adrian and I were taking steps into something more, it was irrelevant.

Silence slipped in all around us after that, and Adrian took up his folder and began scratching notes on some papers to look busy. I watched him, no longer caring if it made him uncomfortable.

After a few minutes, he closed his folder and checked the time on his phone. “I need to get back to the office. I think we made good progress tonight. If you’d like to keep meeting, I have something I was hoping you could do for me.”

I furrowed my brow. “Why wouldn’t we meet again?”

He shuffled and dropped his gaze to his folder where he picked at a corner. “How about I come back next Monday. This week, I’d like you to keep track of your days and your level of sensitivity to artificial light. If you have a day that requires sunglasses and hoodies, let’s say, write it down, and if you can, explain what’s happened to make you feel those barriers are necessary. Also, anytime that darkness inside your mind feels too intense or hard to control, record your feelings and what you’re thinking. If you manage to help it go away, tell me how you managed it. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah. I’ll try.”

Adrian seemed satisfied with that answer and stood. He was readying himself to leave, and the next time I’d see him would be a week from then. I didn’t want to wait that long, yet he’d built a brick wall all around himself and told me to stay out.

Well, it’d been a long time since I’d allowed anyone to tell me what to do. Walking on eggshells was what I’d done my entire life growing up. Six years had taught me to stand up for myself and speak my mind. So, when his back was turned, I flicked off the only light in the room. It caught his attention, and I smiled.

“Welcome to my world, Adrian.”

“I’m not afraid of the dark.”

“Good.”

My eyes were far more adapted to darkness than his, so I assumed I could make out far more distinction of shapes in the apartment than him.

He stood stock-still, facing the door, and he didn’t turn around. I crossed the dark room, easily avoiding the furniture, and stopped behind him where I brought my hands to his waist and my face to his ear. He shuddered under my touch, and I didn’t think it was from fear. I wasn’t trying to scare him, only do things in an environment where I could draw reassurance from the shadows. This was my comfort zone.

“What are you doing?” he whispered.

“We had a meeting on your terms and with as much light as I could tolerate. Now, we are going to talk on my terms, in the safety of darkness. Take off this professional cloak you're wearing for five minutes and hear me out. I know what I saw on Saturday night, and I know what you’re trying desperately to hide.”

The scent of mild soap wafting off his skin was made more intense by his body’s release of anxiety and pheromones. As much as I didn’t want to cause him distress, I did want to push him to that edge and force him to look out across the canyon he was too afraid to cross.

His breathing was sharp, his chest rose and fell in rapid succession as I pressed my nose to his temple, allowing my lips to touch his earlobe ever so slightly.

“I can’t,” he breathed. “Even if I wanted to. If I want any chance of escaping the hell of my roommates, I need this job, Rory. You have to understand. My dad won’t help me, so I need to save as much money as possible and do it myself somehow.”

I growled deep in my throat. I couldn’t repress it. Any reminder of his situation clawed at the inner workings of my mind and brought so much anger to the surface I had to stop myself from seeking those fuckers out and tearing them apart.

“But you want it too, don’t you?”

He leaned back against me and angled his head, exposing his neck. Goddamn him, he was making things too easy, urging me forward. It was probably an action done from a complete lack of control, but I took the invitation and grazed my lips ever so delicately over the cord of muscle that ran down to his collar.

“You want it, don’t you?” I nudged him for an answer before flicking my tongue at the soft flesh exposed near his shirt collar. He gasped and reached behind himself to take hold of my thigh, clinging desperately. Digging his fingers in, he tugged me closer with a whimper that he couldn’t contain.

“I c-can’t, Rory. I really can’t. This… I’ll lose my job, and you need this. You need help. Krew is right.”

With more willpower than I had, he pulled from my arms and spun, more frazzled than I’d ever seen him. He panted and stared back at me through the darkness, searching my face like a man who couldn’t decide what to do next. He could deny his feelings all he wanted, but I didn’t need more than moonlight to see the evidence of his arousal tenting his pants or the lust brimming in his eyes. It made my own fired up libido pulse with more need than I thought possible.

“Rory, if I like you or not, it doesn’t matter. If I wanted this, it doesn’t matter. It can’t happen. Not so long as I’m your counselor.”

“Then find me a new worker.”

Mild hurt crossed his face, followed by a steady whirl of the gears shifting into motion in his smart brain. He shook his head.

“Doesn’t matter. You’re still a client with the center. So long as you are a registered patient, I have rules I have to follow.”

I took two steps forward, but he brought his hands to my chest to stop my advance.

“I can’t ignore this.”

“You have to. Just like I have to.”

The hands on my chest balled around my shirt and he seemed to waver between wanting to pull me in or push me away. In the end, he shoved me back a step but not forcefully. It was more of a request I obliged because his determination was fierce, and I risked upsetting him otherwise.

At least I had my answer. The growing feelings I had invading my every nerve and sense was reciprocated—even if he wouldn’t act on them.

It didn’t matter. I liked a challenge.