Page 26 of A New Days Don

“Fucking feisty,” Massimo all but groans the words, and I stiffen with adrenaline, my heart, the world around us all come to a stop. What the hell was that?

I replay the sound over and over again in my mind. The raspy, guttural noise hums like a church hymn, and the way he looks at me tells me that I’m the one that noise was for.

How do I get him to make it again?

Massimo uses this moment of distraction to trap me below him, and when his hips pin mine, I feel it. The long, large ridge behind his polyester gym shorts. I don’t know how I know, but it is almost instinctual when I feel it. Massimo is hard for me.

If my cheeks weren’t already burning with exertion, I may have blushed. I did that. He’s hard because of me.

I find myself panting wildly for all the wrong reasons. No. I don’t want that. I can’t.

No. No. No.

Images flash back and forth between reality and the past, and I try to stay here in this room. Center myself, but I can’t.

I tap Massimo to try to get out of his grasp. My eyes blur, breath comes in ragged gasps, and it's not until Massimo lets me go that I slip out of the class. I can feel him following me close behind as humiliation and shame flood through me.

When I rush into the girls’ locker room, I twirl to face the man who's still looming over me like a phantom, “You can’t be in here. Get out.”

I try to snap at him, to put anger in my voice, but it comes out as exhausted as I feel. The adrenaline rushing in my veins slowly simmers, and in its place comes a wave of fatigue and emotion that hits me with the force of a tsunami. I refuse to let the tears burning the backs of my eyes go as I glare at him.

“You will come to find, there aren’t many places I can’t be,” Massimo says lowly, his eyes flickering over me, trying to assess whatever threat he sees. He lets the door shut, crossing his arms over his chest as he looks me up and down.

“Go back to class, or don’t, but I’m out of here,” I mumble, grabbing my gym bag from the locker I placed it in and brushing past him. While I rush from the gym to my car, I pull up the contact for my therapist. I don’t have a session for a few days, but hopefully she can fit me in.

I watch from my car as Massimo exits the gym, his hair awry and his taut muscles on full display. As I slowly trail my gaze up his body, I reach his firm jaw and taunting smirk. That same warmth from earlier blooms numbing the panic and relaxing my tense muscles. It takes everything in me to force myself to look away as my therapist's voice comes through my car’s speaker.

“What’s going on, Mila?” Her calm voice is laced with worry. She and I both know I don’t use her number unless it’s an emergency, and right now, it is one.

“Are you available for a meeting today?” Desperate. That’s what my voice sounds like, and I cringe, rubbing my temples.

“I have an hour before my next meeting. C’mon in.”

Chapter 11

Mila

Annalese’s deep, forest eyes sweep over me as I fiddle with my hands, trying to find the words, but they all seem to run and hide as I try to navigate what happened thirty minutes ago in my class. She checks her watch, looking back at me expectantly. My mouth opens and closes for the hundredth time since I sat down.

“Mila, we only have about twenty-five more minutes. I don’t like to rush you, but I’m going to need you to start trying to explain what was going on.” Annalese tells me as she relaxes into the oversized chair.

“I don’t know what happened,” I whisper, my cheeks flushing at the confession, and she nods.

“Okay, well, why don’t you start with what led you to call me. Was there a feeling or panic related to the sudden anxiety to have a session?” She offers, and I look back down at my fingers, twisting them together.

“It was a lack of feeling.” I murmur, pausing to take a deep breath for the first time since leaving Fergusen’s, before elaborating, “I had a class for jiu-jitsu, nothing out of the ordinary, but this new guy showed up. Someone I had met before.”

I purposely leave out the fact that I met this new guy during a raid gone wrong and that I went to interview him regarding a series of murders and his club. I should probably also tell her about the little incident at the cafe, but I hold it in. For some reason, I don’t want to share those little moments. They feel sacred and for only us.

I mentally shake my head at the ridiculousness of those thoughts. Nothing happened in those moments. Nothing special. Just business and casual conversation. Suggestive? Maybe… But nothing that makes them sacred.

Annalese’s green, calming eyes meet mine as I swirl around in my own thoughts, waiting for me to continue, “We started the warm-up roll, and things weren’t the same as what typically happens when I roll with someone new. The constant edge of panic wasn’t there. My mind felt lighter and blank. I couldn’t focus on what we were doing. And I felt warm… Everywhere.”

Annalese hums, a slow smile pulling on her lips, “Tell me about the new guy at the gym. You said you met him before?”

“Yeah, while I was working.” I explain, “He’s a bit of a flirt, I guess. More irritating than necessary.”

“And you didn’t have a panic attack when you were partnered with him?” Annalese inquires, and I shift, suddenly feeling like I am in a doctor’s office about to get some terrible news.