A/N thank you to everyone that reviews! I hope this next part doesn't disappoint!

I lied when I told Eric I didn't care what my fear was called and I was secretly grateful he had told me I could find it in my text book. After spending the walk home giving Christina a full play by play of what happened after she left I locked myself in my room for the night with my book and my laptop researching Genophobia. The more I read the more I realize that it's not exactly right. Genophobes are afraid of sex, just the actual act of sex, I'm afraid of anything related to sex. It's called Erotophobia, I try to find it in my text book but it's not there. I'm limited to what I can find on google and it's really all the same information over and over. Just reading about what I'm afraid of is starting to make me shaky and I turn off my computer before I set myself over the edge.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

I'm in the library Wednesday after classes pulling articles on Erotophobia from the Psychology peer reviewed archives and wasting all of my copy/print points. When I have a stack of articles to read I find a quiet corner table to hide and set myself to figuring this out. Most of what I find is more political in nature, how the term is thrown around as a dig at conservatives.

I find one that explores the cause of this fear and I am interested to see what it says. I'm halfway through the methodology, I understand the research format but I am struggling to understand some of the more advanced psychology terms, when a deep voice interrupts my concentration.

"Did you change majors?" It's Tobias. His navy blue eyes scan the print out I'm reading and he looks at me curiously. "That's not Veterinary Medicine."

I'm suddenly very embarrassed to be caught reading these articles and I start to shuffle the papers into a pile. "I'm taking Abnormal Psych, we're covering phobias." I defend.

Tobias slides into the chair opposite me and laughs, "and you just happen to be covering the exact fear you have?"

"Oh look at the time, I have class," I lie shoving everything into my bag. My hands are starting to shake. Tobias with his hypnotizing blue eyes looking at me, and his perfectly tanned skin highlighted by his fitted white t-shirt, are proving to be too much for me. I can feel my stomach turning at just the memory of his large rough hands tracing the skin above the waistband of my jeans before they splayed out over my sides. I have to shake the memory from my mind before the same full on panic I experienced that day starts again.

I'm just getting my heart rate under control when Tobias reaches out a hand to hold my wrist. I know he feels my pulse excelerate and it's not likely he can miss the sudden drenching sweat that breaks out over my skin, "Tris relax it's just me, you know I won't hurt you." His voice is wounded, he's always taken it so personally.

"I never," deep breath, "said you would," another slow inhale but the last word is choked. I'm in full on panic. I need to get away from him and out of this library. I wrench my arm free and grab my bag trying to keep my pace reasonable as not to attract attention. I keep my head down and just walk. I make it out of the library, through the fire doors, and into the fresh air of the back lawn of the library. I keep walking until I'm face deep in a broad chest. I feel two strong hands take my shoulders and any sense of calm I had gained was lost. I could see the tattoos at his wrists and the smell of cologne was distinct and familiar.

"Slow down Tris." He says. He must feel the tension in my shoulders because he ends his contact with me quickly, as soon as he's sure I won't fall over, with a mumbled, "sorry."

I don't speak I just keep my eyes trained on the grass at my feet and focus on slowing my breathing and my heart rate. I've never had this many panic attacks in two days before. These three men are going to kill me.

Eric's voice breaks my concentration, "We really need to stop meeting this way." He shoves a hand into his back pocket and ruffles his un-done hair.

I push my sweaty hands into my hoodie pocket and give him a weak smile. "I need to go." I mumble with my head still down. I can't look at him right now he's in jeans and a tight fitting blue t-shirt, and grey sneakers. I'm afraid if I look him in they eye right now I'll combust.

"Tris, I know you're having another one. Can you look at me please?" He asks but I shake my head. I hear him sigh and then I see his feet shift back and forth uncomfortably. Before I can say anything I hear the doors slam open and Tobias yelling my name.

I lift my head and drop it backwards to look at the sky. This day can not get any worse. I force out a calming breath and manage to look Eric in the eye. His eyes, deep grey and piercing, are fixed on me. "Let me guess," he starts.

"I'd rather you didn't," I tell him, "give me a second." I turn to see Tobias closing in on us a furious look on his face.

"Tris you know I hate it when you do that." He scolds me.

I nod and say, "and you know I hate it when you speak to me like a child."

I can see in his face that he's going to say it and I'm at a loss as to how to stop him, "then stop acting like one," what a dick, "You can't just run away because I ask you a question."

"I didn't run away, I told you I had someplace to be." I respond.

"I can see that. Hi Eric," Tobias says with a nod in Eric's direction.

"Four." Eric responds in an icy tone.

I look between them, "you know one another?"

"We played hockey together our freshmen year." Tobias says.

"Until Four got us both thrown off the team." Eric says.

"You're that Eric?" I ask.

He nods and Tobias does too, before asking, "what are you doing with him Beatrice."

"Don't call me that, and he's my Abnormal Psych T.A." I say realizing too late that admitting that may be a bad idea now that I've used that class to justify my unusual reading material.

"Oh really." He steps closer to me protectively. "Does he have anything to do with why you're suddenly so interested in ridding yourself of your aversion to intimacy?"

I feel the fire in my cheeks despite the chilly air and I'm almost positive that I'm going to throw up. I manage out a meek unconvincing, "no," as I drop my eyes to the grass.

Tobias shakes his head and tells me in a clear paternal tone, "you need to be careful Tris," before he stalks past us bumping his shoulder into Eric's as he strides away. All I can see is the tendrils of the flames tattooed up his back licking at his neck.

"You've got a thing for big and dumb don't you?" Eric breaks the awkward silence. "So you told him you're looking into your phobia? Hoping to get him back?"

"More like he read over my shoulder, and don't let his girlfriend hear you say that she's unnecessarily jealous." I tell him pulling my hands through my thick blonde hair and pushing it over my left shoulder.

Eric laughs lightly and fidgets with his watch. "Look, I know you don't want to talk about your fears with me but you should talk to someone. You're kinda missing out on one of the best parts of college."

"It's not Genophobia," I blurt out.

He smiles, "no it's not. I told you that because Erotophobia isn't in the text, it's a bit more advanced, and I knew you'd figure it out."

"So what do I do to make it stop?" I ask him adjusting my bag across my chest and looking at my sneakers.

"That depends who you ask." He says. "Can we go somewhere else to talk about this? It's freezing." he points towards the student union, "coffee?" I nod my agreement.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

Eric slides a paper coffee cup across the table to me and sits in the arm chair beside the one I've chosen. We're tucked into the back corner of the coffee shop. It's late in the day and it's empty here, "Thank you," I say as I play with the cardboard band around the cup. "So my problem, how do I make it go away?"

He smiles warmly at me and takes a deep drink from his cup. "You don't really, you just learn to go on despite it." He explains. "At least that's the theory I subscribe to. Some people think that if you spend years in therapy blaming everyone in your past, and twisting prior experiences to fit as the cause, then eventually you'll be cured. I don't think it really matters why you're afraid, it just matters how you deal with it."

"Reasonable enough." I say, "so how do I do that."

"First, you're going to need to find someone to help you." He says.

I look at him confused, "I thought that's what you were doing?"

He chokes on his coffee and for the first time I see him look disheveled. "You don't want me to help you."

"Seriously, you get me to look up all this crazy research and you're not even going to help me?" I snap at him.

"You don't understand what you're saying. You could get Four or your goofy ex to help you. I can tell you what you need to do once they agree but I'm not really an option." He's wiping the coffee off his mouth and checking his clothes.

"It's bad enough I am talking to you about this." I say, "I'm not talking to anyone else. It's you or no one."

Eric shakes his head. "Let me explain the process first. When I'm done then you tell me if you still want me to be the one to help you."

"Fine," I agree.

Eric sets his cup on the table and rests his elbows on his knees turning towards me. "It's called Desensitization. It's a therapy technique used to alleviate fears and anxiety through the use of systematic and intense exposure to the triggers. It's usually done in three stages with the first stage being one visit during which you identify your triggers in a hierarchy from least anxiety inducing to most. For you it may look something like an increasing scale of contact your baseline calm being normative conversation with someone you know and aren't attracted to and your redline anxiety would obviously be," I cut him off with a wave to say I got the point. He smirks and shakes his head before going on, "the second stage is a visit maybe two where you learn and master relaxation techniques. You've already got some pretty good deescalation skills so I don't see this taking long for you."

"So far it sounds like you're the perfect person for this." I tell Eric, "You already figured out my fears and you can teach me the relaxation stuff."

"Tris there's one more stage. This could take weeks, even months depending on the severity of your reactions," He explains, "and it's something that in your case is going to be very personal in nature." He looks at me expectantly but I don't understand.

"The third stage is actually facing each of the fears on your hierarchy, one at a time, over and over, while utilizing the relaxation techniques, until you don't have a panic attack." He looks at me waiting for the realization to set in.

"I'd have to," I can't say it out loud, "with you?" He nods. "I understand why you didn't want to help now."

"Don't take it that way." How does he seem to know what I thinking without me saying it? "I would absolutely," he holds back and it's obviously for my comfort, "with you. You're beautiful, but it needs to be someone you can trust completely and you don't even know me. You need someone who can recognize the symptoms of a panic attack and put the need to stop that before their own reactions."

I nod understandingly before I tell him, "you're a better option then either of them." He opens his mouth to protest but I lift my hand, "Al was one of my closest friends freshman year. We spent every day together he supposedly knew me better than anyone. I decided I wanted him to be more than a friend. One day we were at a party, I intentionally didn't drink just to make sure it was special, I let him bring me back to his room and we started to kiss. That's when I had what I know now was my first panic attack, racing heart, sweaty palms, and the room spinning. I tried to slow things down but Al was lost in his own little world and when he pushed me back on the bed and started to rub my thighs under my skirt I freaked out so badly I threw up all over him. He couldn't figure out why I was crying. So that eliminates bachelor number one."

Eric is looking at me completely dumbfounded, "you threw up?" I nod. "Four?"

"I met Tobias sophomore year. He was my first real boyfriend and my first attempt at letting anyone touch me after Al. It was better, he was definitely slower and more in tune with how my body was reacting. He also took it all very personally. It was like every mild panic reaction was a direct insult to him. One day I tried to hide my reactions, pass them off as excitement, until his hands slipped under my shirt and onto my ribs. I nearly passed out. Tobias was furious that I had tried to lie to him. He broke up with me on the spot. A week later he was with Lauren and he's been with her ever since. Thus eliminating bachelor number two."

I pull my lower lip between my teeth and look at Eric. "That leaves bachelor number three," time to be brave Tris, "the hot guy who actually understands what's wrong with me, and who recognized a mild panic attack from across a crowded lecture hall and was perceptive enough to figure out what caused the next one, and who understands a real way to possibly make it go away. Who would you ask to help you?" I look at him pointedly.

"Tris this is a massive undertaking. It's not just let's go back to my apartment and hook up. This is possibly weeks of intensely personal conversations for you, and a lot of physical contact. I'm essentially a complete stranger to you." He says leaning forward with his hands folded between his knees.

"I understand if you don't want me." I pick at my cuticles with my head hung.

"You completely glossed over the part where I told you you were beautiful and that I would, under normal circumstances, sleep with you." He says.

The knot in my throat starts and swallowing is difficult, I close my eyes and try to force it down. "Breathe Tris." I open my eyes and he's squatting in front of my chair. "Keep your eyes open, look at mine, and breathe." I do what he says. Trying to focus on the color of his eyes. They are definitely grey, deep breath in through my nose, there are small flecks of near black that dust the rims of his iris', let it out through my nose, they're actually quite beautiful. There's a warm hand on my cheek, keep breathing, his eyes seem to be searching my face for something, I bite my lip again and the hand on my cheek slides down so his thumb can release it. He's going to do what I think he's going to do, deep breath in, slow exhale, his eyes close and I let mine shut too.

Before I can think too much about the smell of cologne and coffee that invades my next calming breath his lips touch mine. There is no move to deepen the kiss and it's over in five seconds, I count them in my head. When it's over I open my eyes and he has removed his hand from my face and is squatting a safe distance in front of my chair again. "Tell me you're Ok. " He says.

I know he needs me to say it not just nod, he wants to hear my voice, "I'm Ok." It comes out calmer than even I expect, and it's not a lie. I don't feel any overwhelming sense of fear. Kissing itself has never been an issue, but I guess he needed to see that for himself.

"Good." He stands up and extends his hands to help me up and I accept them, letting him tug me out of the chair onto my feet. "I'll help you but you need to promise me you'll be perfectly honest about every feeling. No hiding the panic to get through and no saying you're ok when you're not."

I nod my agreement and when I realize he's still holding my hands I tug on them gently pulling him closer. "Thank you."

The corner of his lip pulls up into a smirk and he leans in to kiss my cheek. "Don't thank me yet."

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

Eric's apartment is six blocks north and two east of the one I share with Christina. She and I are in a two bedroom apartment over a bicycle repair shop, Eric's is in a much nicer studio in a complex. I'm sitting on his couch waiting for him to sit back down.

He hands me a bottle of water and sits down on the opposite side of the couch where he's got a pad of paper and a pen laid on the table in front of him. "Do you really need to write things down?" I ask him.

"I'm not writing anything specific, I promise I won't use you in my paper." He laughs. "It will just help to keep me on track and remind me what to look for later."

It's Saturday afternoon and I've told Christina Eric has agreed to help me study. I can't quite bring myself to tell her he's essentially agreed to have sex with me to cure my phobia. Eric explained that today is going to be a little difficult for me. We need to talk about what I'm afraid of specifically and then put it all in order of least scary to full on panic.

"I'm still not sure how this is supposed to help me." I tell him.

"Once we know what you're not afraid of, so far talking as long as you're not thinking about sex, and kissing, don't seem to bother you." He says as he writes those two points down. "We'll start with the talking I'm sure it's less triggering than physical. How do you feel talking about someone being attractive?" He asks.

"Like to Christina saying yeah that guys hot? Fine. Telling a guy he's hot? A little nerve wracking but I can do it without a problem." I explain.

"I assume your relationship with Christina makes things significantly easier, let's focus on you having to do these things with someone you're actually interested in." He tells me as he writes something down. "What about telling someone you want to kiss them." He asks.

I ring my hands I am thinking about telling him right now that he looks good in that shirt and I'd like to kiss him. "I'm not sure I would be that bold, but I could do it if I needed to." I say.

"You could do a lot of things if you needed to, and your brave enough to push through at least the first layers of fear, I need to know how you'd feel doing it. Let's try something else, I'll give you a scenario you tell me how anxious it would make you feel on a scale if zero to ten. Zero is no anxiety, ten is throwing up passing out panic."

"Ok. That's less than one," I say shrugging.

"Good, if you had to tell someone you wanted to touch them?" He asks.

"Two."

"Thinking of being naked alone?"

"Zero. I do shower you know." I tell him.

"Don't be cheeky. Thinking of touching yourself, for purposes other than hygiene?" He raises an eyebrow that now has a bar running through the two previously open holes.

"Four." I spit out. I've never done that, and I'm not sure I ever would. It seems extremely self indulgent. My parents also taught my brother Caleb and I that it was disgusting and sinful. I don't believe I'm going to be punished for eternity for touching myself but when you hear enough that something is disgusting you tend to avoid it.

"Why?" He asks pointedly.

"My parents Are extremely religious, and compnservative. Self satisfaction is selfish and disgusting to them, they drilled it into my brother and I from the time we were little that it as wrong." I explain.

"Makes sense that you would be uncomfortable with the thought, do you believe it's disgusting?" He asks with a look that shows he's not judging just fact finding.

"No, but I certainly wouldn't want to get caught doing it." I can feel my cheeks heat up.

"We'll move on for now. Relax." He makes a note and I'm tempted to look over at his pad. "Thinking about touching someone else beyond a casual handshake or friendly gesture?"

I am immediately back in the lecture hall picturing myself thinking about tasting Eric's tattoo, which is now more visible, but still not fully exposed, over the collar of his t-shirt. "Five."

"Why?"

"What if the other person rejects the touch, or if I do it wrong?" I say.

"Fair points, we can work on that." He says. "Thinking about someone going down on you?" I must look confused because he smiles and says, "getting oral sex?"

I feel the blood leave my face and I need to wipe my hands on my sweatpants legs for the first time today. "I've never thought about that."

"Well now that you are where's your anxiety?" He asks.

"Seven."

"Thinking about giving oral sex?"

"Seven." How is he so calm? My hands are sweating and I'm pretty sure it's ten degrees warmer than when I got here. I unzip my sweatshirt and pull it off my arms wishing now that I had worn a bigger t-shirt instead of a tight white v-neck.

"Do you need to take a break?" He asks.

"No it's just hot in here." I tell him.

"It's the same temperature in here as when you arrived Tris. You're getting anxious. I told you you needed to be honest with me about how you were feeling." He drops the note pad on the table and takes me sweatshirt from my hands tossing it on the back of the couch. "Take a few deep breaths and drink some water." He gets up and walks to the kitchen area pulling another bottle of water and taking a long drink.

I know in my current state watching him may be a bad idea but I can't help myself. He's in dark blue track pants with black lines down the legs and a fitted black T-shirt. His body is exactly as well built as I had assumed through his dress shirts and with the tattoos on his arms and neck he looks like a twenty five year old college student not my T.A. "Eric can you get into trouble for this?" I ask him. "I should have thought of that before I'm sorry."

He laughs as he walks back over, "you know I'm not a doctor right?" I nod. "You know I'm just a friend who knows a little about this stuff trying to help you out right?" Another nod,"do you expect me to falsify your grades in Doctor Matthews' class because of our friendship?" I shake my head. "Good because I intend to be harder on your papers since I know you're research skills are excellent. I also have no intention of using this in my thesis research so there's no concern there. So no I won't get in trouble. I may have to back out of your section of Abnormal Psych if you still expect me to help you with the last piece of this," he explains.

"I don't want you to have to do that." I say.

He smiles and pats my knee, "we'll worry about it when we get there. Feeling calmer?"

"I'm ok." I tell him honestly.

"These next few questions are going to get pretty intense. Tell me to stop if you need to. I need to trust that you'll stop me if you're too uncomfortable if we're going to do this." He says.

"I will I promise." I tell him.

"Same zero to ten scale of anxiety. Kissing a friend on the cheek"

"Zero."

"Kissing someone you're interest in on the cheek?"

"Less than one."

"Kissing someone you're interest in on the lips?"

I think back to Thursday in the coffee shop and Eric kissing me and I can't stop the smile it brings, "one."

His lips pull up in a half smile, I'm hoping at the same memory, "what if they try to kiss you more intensely?"

"Two." My fingers start to twist together.

"And if they were to hold you tightly or pin you against a wall?"

"Four?"

"Don't ask me, tell me. Think about it, someone's got you pinned to the wall with their body weight and they're kissing you intensely."

"Four." My hands are shaking and sweating but I can keep going.

"The same scenario, only they are touching your hips or your stomach over your clothes?" He's watching me for signs that it's too much.

"Solid five. Please don't ask why." I say taking slow deliberate breaths.

"Tell me you're OK?" He asks.

"Keep going." My voice is tight but even so he continues.

"I need to know why Tris." He says apologetically.

"It's just too intimate." I lie.

"The whole truth Tris."

"What if they don't like the way I feel, if my hip bones feel gross or my stomach is too soft." I feel tears behind my eyes. "I need to stop." I stand up abruptly and grab my sweatshirt pulling it on and wrapping it tight around myself.

"Don't do that," Eric says. I look at him curiously I'm not sure what he means. "Don't hide behind your clothes. They won't always be there and you'll have to manage."

The thought of my clothes not being there to hide behind sets me onto a whole other level of fear. I have never been naked in front of anyone since my mother stopped bathing me when I was a child. "What is it Tris?" Eric asks.

"The idea of you seeing me with my clothes off is definitely an eight."I try to laugh while I zip my sweatshirt up.

"Just me or anyone?" His voice is clinical he's not being flirty or forward he's still questioning me.

I drop back to my seat on the couch and let out a long slow breath, "Anyone I guess but right now especially you."

"We'll get to why I make it worse in a second, first why anyone?" He asks.

"Please, I look like a twelve year old boy not a twenty two year old woman. I can only imagine the girls you've been with. You're, well you're practically fucking perfect and I'm sure the girls you've been with are perfect." It all comes out easier than I expected and he's watching me.

"No one is perfect Tris. What does it matter what the other women look like? Would you compare me to Al or Four?" He asks.

"No," I look away.

"We're getting off task a little here but I think you need to hear something. Stand up," he instructs before getting up himself.

I stand up and look at him, "what are we doing?"

He takes the zipper of my hoodie and slides it down while simultaneously bringing me a step closer to him. I keep my eyes on his trying to figure him out. He bites his bottom lip looking at me for permission to keep going and I nod. He releases the zipper completely and moves to push it off my shoulders. I shrug it off and cross my arms over my chest looking away. He puts one finger on my jaw and makes me keep the eye contact. "I know you don't see it, but you really are beautiful Tris. I didn't just happen to notice your panic attack in class by chance. I spend most of the class looking at you more often than not." He's closer than I would expect to be comfortable with but I don't feel scared yet. "I want to be the one to help you, can you let me help you?" He pushes my hair behind my ears and I bite my lip. "Are you ok?" I nod. "If I told you I wanted to kiss you again?"

"Three," I answer him quietly.

"Why?" His hands are on my shoulders and I look at his eyes trying to use the same focus that got me through that day in the coffee shop.

"What if you don't like it?" I manage to get out.

"I've already done it and it's all I've been able to think about since. That's not going to be a problem." He leans in so that his nose is brushing mine.

"What if you want it to go further and I freak out?" My voice is a shaking disaster and I am hating myself for it.

"I don't want anything more from you than a kiss, I promise." I tip my head up so that our lips are almost connected and I feel him speak more than I hear him, "tell me you're ok."

I close my eyes and take a long deep breath he's right he's done this before and he wants to do it again I must not have been terrible at it. "I'm ok." I whisper. His lips touch mine and I feel my arms fall from across my chest. His hands were still at my shoulders but when his lips touched mine he let them fall, I'm assuming to minimize the contact and make me feel comfortable. My hands find his and I lace our fingers together. He's still kissing me after ten normal heart beats and I suddenly feel brave. I part my lips just enough to take his bottom lip between them and I apply the slightest suction. His lips are full and soft and I can taste a whisper of peppermint gum.

I let myself move forward half a step and his hands squeeze mine as he pulls back breaking the connection between our lips but holding onto my hands. When I open my eyes I see that his are trained on me looking for any sign of a panic attack, "that was good, I'm at less than one." I tell him smiling.

He smiles back a full genuine smile with perfectly straight white teeth and his lips subtly pink from the attention they've received. "That was really good, I'm at a three."

I look at him curiously, "why?"

"You're better at that then you let on, I may not be good enough for you." He tugs me closer before releasing my hands to run his thumb over my bottom lip. "I think we've gotten far enough for today, and Christina will be wondering where you are. Can I walk you home?"

"I'd like that," I admit. He smiles another brilliant smile and places a kiss to my forehead.

I am not happy with all of what happened this afternoon, I wish I hadn't needed to make him stop, but if every afternoon we spend together ends with Eric holding my hands and kissing my forehead so gently I may actually survive this.