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That sort of thing only happens in romance novels and only to far better looking women than me.
I sneak another peek at Jamie, trying to gauge how he’s feeling. His face is professionally polite, like it always is, but the vein on the side of his neck looks like it’s about to burst out of his skin.
He’s definitely angry with me—probably disgusted, too.
My body starts shaking uncontrollably, and I bury my face in Phillip’s shoulder so I don’t have to look at Jamie one second longer.
“We’re going into the living room so you can have privacy to cover up again. Right, Jamie?”
It’s more threat than question, but Jamie still responds like they’re having a nice little chat about the weather.
“Of course, and once everyone is” —he clears his throat pointedly— “more composed, we can all discuss this situation together in the living room.”
Fantastic. More humiliation. That’s exactly what I need right now.
“He’s gone now, Avery,” Phillip says after a moment.
“I appreciate your keeping me covered. I’m sure it was awkward continuing to hold me against you like that.”
“If it made you feel safer, I’d do it again a thousand times over,” he says, untangling himself from me. “I’m going to head into the living room now to let you cover up in peace. There’s a half bath just there, in case you didn’t know.”
He points to a door that I had assumed was a second pantry.
I can’t get to my clothes from last night without going through the living room, so I’m stuck with just this shirt. I’d prefer something with more coverage, but there’s nothing I can do about that now. Still, just the prospect of having a windowless room that I can lock myself in while I gather my composure has me near tears with relief.
As if he can read my mind, Phillip slips his cotton jacket off his shoulders and offers it to me. I clutch it against my chest gratefully.
“I’ve got about a foot or so on Wesley, so this should give you a little more coverage. The fact that it has a zipper probably helps too. I’m sure you’re feeling vulnerable and out of control, so being able to control even something as small as a zipper might help regulate things a bit.”
I’m not sure if the sound that comes out of my mouth just now is a sob or a laugh.
Both, maybe?
“Are you seriously doing the therapist thing on me right now?”
He shrugs. “Force of habit. You didn’t say I was wrong, though.”
I shake my head at him. “Does this really strike you as the time to do a therapy session on me?”
“Any time is the right time for therapy.”
I can’t help but laugh at the earnestness of his voice. When I do, I notice his eyes seem to glimmer with satisfaction.
“Stop using your mental health witchery on me and go so I can get cleaned up.”
He cups my cheek in his hand. “Did it help?”
“A little bit.”
“Good.”
He gently kisses my forehead then heads off to the living room.
I take my sweet time cleaning up in the bathroom. I’ve got half a mind to never come out with the way everything went today.
Had Phillip been lying about sharing women with Wesley?
I think back to the look on his face. There hadn’t been a trace of anything manipulative or calculating, but rather a look of earnestness and arousal.
