Page 83 of Scoring Eden

“You didn’t even see half of it,” Eden mutters, more to herself than to me.

But I don’t need to. Even if Brynn and Leo weren’t moving into the place directly next door, I’d still have no choice but to buy it. Our territory has been marked in DNA deposits.

Besides, the kitchen was stunning, and the house comes with all the amenities I could want. A gym, a movie theater, a garage big enough for my car collection, and a yard for the kids to play in.

But none of those things are the real reason I’m willing to pay half a million dollars over asking price to call it my own.

No, that would be the laundry room.

TEXT THREAD BETWEEN ALEX AND DR. SHARMA

Alex: Doc, I need your advice about something.

Dr. Sharma: Everything okay?

Alex: I keep getting this weird feeling in my chest. Like burning? I don’t know how to explain it, just that it kind of hurts, and my heart keeps beating really fast.

Dr. Sharma: How long has this been happening?

Alex: A little while, but it got worse after I was intimate with Eden.

Dr. Sharma: I see.

Alex: Do I need to go to the hospital?

Dr. Sharma: Does it feel like pressure? Are you getting shooting pains down your arms? Problems breathing at all?

Alex: Not pressure, exactly, more like warmth. No shooting pains. And sometimes my breathing feels shorter, but that’s only when Eden’s around, which is weird.

Dr. Sharma: I don’t think you need to go to the hospital, but you should get it checked if you’re worried about it.

Alex: So, is it, like, anxiety or something?

Dr. Sharma: I don’t think it’s that either.

Alex: Throw me a bone here, Doc. What’s happening to me?

Dr. Sharma: Have you talked to her about your parents yet?

Alex: No.

Dr. Sharma: Try to. And we’ll talk about what you’re experiencing in person at your next session.

TWENTY-TWO

EDEN

Alex is quiet on the drive home. Awkwardly so. Every so often, he’ll run a hand over his chest and wince, then he’ll grumble something under his breath that sounds like a curse. His forehead is set into a tight scowl, not angry, as such, but more confused than anything. And the grip he has on the steering wheel is so tight his knuckles have turned white.

Not once does he look at me, or reach for my hand, or offer any sort of reassurance that what happened back there meant something to him.

But maybe it didn’t.

He’s the king of casual sex, and I knew that, so why would I expect it to be different with me?

Alex and I aren’t coming into this with the same experiences. Sharing his body isn’t a big deal to him like it is for me, and it’s been so long since I shared my body with a man. And I know we didn’t have sex or even see each other naked, but the moment I shared with him was laced with more vulnerability and intimacy than I ever experienced in the entirety of my marriage to Sebastian.

It was exposing. Raw, in many ways. Not just because of the things he did to me, but the things I admitted, and he, in turn, admitted to me. That he can’t stop looking at me, thinking about me. That he wants me.