A/N: Thanks for the supports, alerts and reviews! They really warm my heart.
Chapter 2
"Hey, you don't look fine. Are you sure? What's going on, Rose?" The fact that he calls me by my name tells me he's being serious.
"What happened?" Garrett's face shows genuine concern and his hands shoot out of their pockets, onto my clothed shoulders. I can almost feel the warmth of his skin through the thick fabric of my jacket. I don't wince at his touch. I let him.
"I got… cold. And then I went back there again." My voice is soft, vacant as I try desperately to push the memories away. I never know what hits me whenever they get triggered.
"Shh, it's okay. Come here," Garrett says with a sweet voice, opening up his arms to invite me for a hug. He knows how hard physical contact is for me, but he keeps trying anyway. I have to let him try, my therapist tells me every time.
'Swap the negative out for the good, Rosalie.'
Garrett knows my therapist said that,because I trust him with just about anything. Because Garrett is my friend. Because Garrett is a fucking good person. I know not every guy is bad news, but they're not all good either. It's why I'm never able to endure a man's touch. Not since that night. Garrett seems to be an exception.
"I don't think that's a good idea," I mutter but Garrett closes the distance anyway. He wraps his arms around me. I start sobbing instantly. His manly scent envelops me—a mixture of his cologne and the fact that he's been working hard all day. It calms me, but not in a way I thought it would. Instead, I think about the man in front of me, how strong he is and how safe his embrace makes me feel. My hands reach behind him and clutch the material of his heavyweight hoodie, fisting it tightly.
"Thank you," I tell him, my breathing and heart rate steadying.
"Spice, you're a strong one. Never forget. You're tough as nails and have a diamond heart. No one can ever break you. No one, I'm telling you." He says, caressing my hair, bringing my face to rest against his chest. The vibrations of his deep voice run through me and I sigh deeply before pulling away.
"Go home, sweetheart. I'll call Kate to order your stuff. Go home, rest," he tells me. I feel myself nod.
"I touched your skin and I know you don't like that. I'm sorry, Spice. It's all my fault you got a panic attack," He apologizes. I smile as his words warm my heart. But it's not Garrett who set off the flashback, the panic.
"I shouldn't even flinch for something like that, Garr. I need progress, but it's not happening and it's frustrating the ever-loving fuck out of me," I ramble.
"No, you are making progress. Look at you, I'm hugging you and you relax. You're doing so good, Spice. So fucking good. I'm proud of you."
I fight a smile. Garret's everything Royce never was, with his dark hair and eyes and his lean, yet built posture. Above all, his heart is kind and pure, unlike Royce's.
In another world, what Garrett has to offer would be all I ever need. Truth be told, I think I could settle for this feeling forever: the feeling of safety and unadulterated love. The love was purely platonic, though. I can't imagine being with a man ever again. It won't ever happen again: the butterflies and the lust and the craving of my skin against his. It could never happen again. I don't have anything to give a man anymore.
"Do you want me to drive you home? I'd rather not read about a car crash in the paper tomorrow." He nudges my face up and I nod, knowing it's probably better not to rush behind the steering wheel right now.
"Irina works from home on Monday, she could give me a ride then."
The ride home is quiet and filled with the rockabilly tunes Garrett lives and breathes for. In his spare time, he has a little band with three of his eldest and bestest friends. I often go see them with Irina. It's always a great night when we do.
Garrett pulls over to the side of the road next to our building.
"Thanks again," I say before getting out of the car and going inside.
"Oh my God," Irina squeals when I step up behind her chair, and she lifts the noise-canceling headphones from her blonde head.
"Sorry to scare you, Lisichka." I smile, knowing Irina loves it when I call her something Russian. I'm surprised to see her home already.
"Malishka, you never scare me." Irina lifts her head, kissing the side of my neck.
"What are you doing home so early? Is everything okay?" she asks.
"Yeah, it's fine. Garrett sent me home early, since I spilled oil all over myself." I find myself giggling like a girl again, feeling blessed in the presence of my girlfriend. Her little fox, her lisichka.
"Well, that was something I'd like to have seen." Irina wiggles her eyebrows suggestively before she bursts out laughing.
"Wanna hop in the shower before we order in some food?" I whisper into Irina's ear, my finger tracing the array of studs adorning the shell of her ear.
"Hmm, no eating out?" Irina breathes.
"Oh, don't count on it. I'm feeling particularly hungry for that, but we'll have to at least have dinner first." I giggle.
"Tease," Irina shoots at me, throwing her pen down on the stack of files in front of her. She fiddles with her phone, switching the music from the headphones onto the sound system in the living room. With the open doors we'll still hear it in the bathroom.
My eyes wander over the body of the amazing woman in front of the mirror as she lets the water in the shower heat up. Irina unties her platinum, waist-length hair from the bun she's been sporting all day and moans as her hands massage her scalp. I bite my lip, leaning back against the glass shower stall as I watch Irina unzip and strip out of her tailored slacks, admiring her great ass in a tiny, yellow lace thong.
"What're you looking at, malishka?" Irina asks over her shoulder, unbuttoning her blood-red blouse.
"Appreciating the view, that's all." I act like the lack of a decent manicure suddenly bothers me before Irina stands before me, wearing nothing but the thong. I swallow thickly.
"You know, you should return the favor. It's the least you can do since you're practically fucking me with your eyes, Miss Hale." Irina chuckles, running her hands down my back until they rest on my ass, squeezing it gently. I moan loudly, loving her hands on my body.
My eyes glide down and I throw Irina's hair back before placing kisses all over her neck and collar bone. My fingers travel lower, flicking her hard nipples, relishing the little noises she makes.
"I think the water's hot now," Irina jokes, steam noticeably filling the little bathroom.
"Too bad," I note and squat down, tugging at the lace around Irina's narrow hips, dragging the fabric down to the floor until she steps out.
"I thought you were buying me dinner first," Irina remarks. She looks down between her legs, brown eyes hooded.
"I did. Three years ago." I shut her up with my tongue until she almost rips the hair from my scalp.