Monti.

  Where the hell was she? Because she could already feel the tension from before sneaking back into her and making it impossible to focus again. It wasn’t awful now, but in another day or two, she would be right back where she’d started.

  She gave it another five minutes—at least, she thought it was five—before standing in front of Fallon, arms crossed, and rage in every fiber of her being. “Where is she?”

  “I—I don’t know.” Fallon shrugged, glancing from Athena to her cell phone and back again.

  “She was supposed to be here an hour ago.”

  “Yeah, but the thing about Monti is that she’s a free spirit.”

  She was quickly learning to hate that phrase. Athena narrowed her gaze, the muscles along her neck and shoulders tightening intensely. “I don’t care if she’s a free spirit or a dead one. I pay her to be here. Where is she?”

  Fallon’s jaw tightened, her lips thinning to the point they were barely even there. She glanced at her phone again, but even Athena could see that there were no messages on it. “Look, I love my sister dearly. She’s my baby sister. I helped raise her. But ever since she’s been on this quest, time and responsibilities are something else to her. She used to be so good at showing up to everything she had to, always ten or fifteen minutes early.”

  “Now she’s an hour late.”

  “I know,” Fallon pleaded. “And I’ve called and texted, and she’s not answering. What I’m trying to say is that Monti doesn’t really pay attention to time anymore.”

  “Who would do that?” Athena gave her a flat look, not understanding any of what Fallon was saying. The words made sense. The actions didn’t. “If you have a job, you show up on time.”

  “Yeah. Yeah I’m with you. I understand that. But Monti is often in her own little world, and through most of the day, she doesn’t know what time it is.”

  “How does she get anything done?” Athena narrowed her gaze. “How does she not get fired?”

  “Well, she doesn’t have a job.”

  Athena knew that, but she still didn’t quite understand how it all worked. “How does she afford to live?”

  “That’s a complicated answer, but she finds a way to earn cash when she needs to.”

  “Like this?” Athena pushed. She wanted to understand Monti better, because this person she was imagining was nothing like the person she’d seen in her bedroom a few nights ago. She was nothing like the woman who had checked in with her after staying awake all night to make sure that she was well enough to be on her own. Her heart raced at that thought. Monti had sacrificed something she needed for the betterment of Athena. At least that was her intention.

  “Yeah, like this.” Fallon sighed heavily, again looking at her phone. “I’ll call her again.”

  “Don’t bother.” Pursing her lips, Athena walked out of the office. When she reached the door, she called over her shoulder, “Go home, Fallon. Get some rest.”

  Without looking back, she left her work for the day.

  Athena went to the one place she knew she could find some peace, at least the one place she usually could. The library brought a gentle calm, something that she had complete control over. Except she wasn’t finding that calm.

  The library door opened, and Athena turned, expecting to find Kevin. Instead, she came face to face with the one person she wasn’t sure she wanted to see today. Not after everything that had happened.

  “I’m so sorry,” Monti started, clearly seeing the anger in Athena’s eyes. “I lost track of time.”

  “Fallon assures me that’s a normal problem with you.”

  Monti sighed, coming in and shutting the door behind her. Now it was just the two of them and no one else. No one would interrupt them. No one would save either of them by stopping the argument that Athena knew was coming. “It is.”

  “I don’t understand you.”

  “Not many people do.” Monti shrugged slightly.

  Which only infuriated Athena even more. People weren’t that hard to understand. Everyone had their own quirks, but they were either trustworthy or they weren’t. Monti stepped forward, and Athena immediately stepped back, her hand out in front of her.

  Monti froze on the spot. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

  “I know that.” Athena’s heart raced, clogging up her throat in that age-old feeling she knew would never leave her. It had been with her for decades. As much as she hated it, it was the most useful thing she’d gotten from the entire experience.

  “Do you?” Monti’s voice was gentle, her eyes pleading with compassion. “Athena, relax.”

  Athena shook her head wildly. Her throat was so clogged up that it was getting hard to speak. “I am relaxed.”

  “You’re not.” Monti’s voice wavered.

  Athena could barely hear her. She faced the small window in the library, putting her back to Monti. She hated doing that, but she needed to collect herself. If Monti could see her sliding down into the bowels of panic, then surely she must already be well on her way there. One deep breath. Then another. Athena counted them. The air in the room was too hot, too sweltering.

  Where was Kevin when she needed him?

  He was the only one who could calm her down from these things. He’d managed to do it earlier, so why wasn’t he here now to talk her down again?

  “Where were you?” Athena threw out into the room. She didn’t really need the answer. She didn’t even want it. But it was something for her to focus on, something other than what was going on with her own body.

  “It doesn’t matter. I missed our appointment time.” Monti came a little closer. “You’re not breathing well.”

  “I’m breathing fine,” Athena ground out. She hated that Monti was so damn observant. Why had she even allowed Monti into her life like this? Why hadn’t she held that line more firmly?

  “Athena,” Monti said.

  That balm.

  Athena breathed it in, allowing it to expand in her lungs before she exhaled. But it didn’t leave her like she had anticipated. Instead, that balm stayed with her. She breathed it in again. “It’s unacceptable for you to be late.”

  “I understand.” Monti took one more step closer.

  Athena could feel her over her shoulder, but they didn’t touch. She breathed in Monti’s scent. Rain. Grass. That same oil that Monti had used on Athena’s skin. It was all there, just under the fragrances that blended so well into what she would describe as Monti’s scent.

  When had she thought about what Monti smelled like?

  “I can’t do this,” Athena whispered, the vehemence gone. This was something else entirely. Resignation. “I can’t...”

  “You can,” Monti countered. “We’re just talking.”

  It was so much more than that. Yes, words were exchanged, but how did Athena tell Monti that this was so much more? This was connection and compassion in ways that Athena had never experienced before. There was something about Monti that drew Athena to her like a moth to a flame. She took another deep breath filled with nothing but Monti’s scent.

  Athena’s eyes fluttered closed.

  She listened deeply. First to her own breathing, to the white noise that raged through her ears and was her typical companion even late into the night. But she found Monti’s breaths. They were deeper than Athena’s, purposeful.

  In and out.

  In and out.

  Athena latched onto those breaths, onto the rustle of the fabric as Monti shifted her body, to the hum of the electricity through the lights in the library, to the rush of wind outside along with the patter of rain against the window. She’d missed that sound.

  She couldn’t remember the last time she’d heard it so clearly.

  It was as if everything was new, as if the world had just opened up in front of her and laid its blessings bare for Athena’s taking. Her breath rattled in her chest when she turned and faced Monti. Those dark brown eyes glued to her face.

  “Athena?”

  “I can’t do this,” Athena repeated.

  She meant to step off the landing and walk around Monti. She meant to leave the library and never see Monti again. Instead, she wrapped her fingers around Monti’s wrist, rough fingertips to smooth, hot skin. Athena’s heart jumped. Her shoulders loosened. She stared down at their physical connection.

  Why had she done that?

  She never willingly touched anyone.

  Looking up into Monti’s gaze, she saw the exact same confusion she knew was swimming around in her brain. But it was swimming through a fog, and she couldn’t see it clearly. What had gotten her so upset?

  Las Vegas.

  “What are we doing tonight?” Monti asked gently.

  Athena shook her head. She had way too many thoughts going on at once, and she couldn’t filter them out enough to even begin to answer Monti’s question.

  “Do you want to sit?”

  “No,” Athena answered firmly. “I want you to leave.”

  Monti didn’t falter. Her face remained stoic. She held Athena’s intense stare for a few more seconds before her damp lips finally parted. “If you want me to leave, then why are you still holding me here?”

  eleven

  “Athena.”

  Monti’s mind ran wild. Athena was touching her. Her fingers were wrapped so tightly around Monti’s wrist that Monti was pretty sure she couldn’t pry them off if she wanted to. But this wasn’t about that. It was about the fact that Athena had initiated trust.

  No, touch.

  Shaking her head, Monti corrected her thought. Athena had initiated touch. Their eyes locked, and that panic that Monti had sensed dissipated a little bit. Monti softened her tone, eased her own body so she’d be less threatening. This was progress. Although Athena probably would see it as anything but.

  “Focus on my voice, okay? Use that to stay here in the room with me.”

  Athena swallowed, the muscles in her neck straining. But she looked up, meeting Monti’s eyes. Hers were so blue, depths of oceans that contained so much. Everything was perfectly in place—her hair, her makeup, her jacket that covered almost every inch of her body.

  “Can you do that?”

  Athena paused, a little breath escaping her lips. “I’m here.”

  “Good.” Monti smiled a bit. This was progress. “What are you thinking about?”

  Athena’s face hardened, the lines pulling taut, her brow dropping. Athena slowly moved her head from side to side, telling Monti that this was pushing it too far. Monti changed her plan quickly. Athena took time to ease into these things—she had to remember that.

  “Okay,” Monti sighed. “Let’s start with an apology. I’m so sorry that I wasn’t here when I was supposed to be. I let you down. I failed you.”

  That changed something in Athena. Monti wanted to know what it was, what had clicked in her brain to allow this slice of openness that they needed. Monti stayed completely still, not wanting to scare that part of Athena away.

  “I didn’t realize how much you needed me.” The words died on her lips. She had worked so very hard to never be that integral to someone’s life. For Athena to have that tight a connection with her already was beyond what Monti had ever thought possible. It wasn’t unusual for clients to feel safe with her. That was her job, after all, but so quickly? Did Athena even realize what was happening?

  “I don’t need you,” Athena answered, that hard sheen coming back across her features.

  This push and pull of control between them was exactly where they needed to be. This was where true work happened and meaning was made. Monti spun through what to say next, which question to ask, where to lead the conversation. But Athena’s eyes were so bare.

  “What do you need?”

  Athena’s face crumbled. Her grip on Monti’s arm tightened sharply, her nails digging into Monti’s skin. But Monti ignored the pain. It was nothing compared to the actual progress that they were making. Monti allowed silence to fall between them, using it for discomfort and peace at the same time.

  “I needed you here two hours ago.”

  “I’m so sorry,” Monti whispered. “I’m so sorry that I wasn’t here for you.”

  Athena released Monti’s arm, bringing her hand up to pinch the bridge of her nose and close her eyes. Did she even realize that she’d been holding on to Monti with a death grip?

  “What happened today?”

  “Nothing.” Athena crossed her arms, her shoulders squared.

  “Look, I’m here. At least let me help.”

  “Nothing happened today.” Athena tightened her jaw, the muscles bulging at the sides. She looked down at the ground, an obvious sign of shame.

  Monti was going to have to take this one step at a time. She couldn’t skip through anything, and she needed to follow the circular pattern that Athena had created to protect herself from whatever it was that had triggered this panic.

  “Tell me about your day then.”

  “I woke up. I went to work. And then I waited hours for an appointment.” Athena’s glare was sharp, but she was still talking to her. That was a bonus.

  “You woke up?” Monti raised an eyebrow. “Does that mean you slept?”

  Athena’s lips parted, as if that realization just dawned on her. “Yes.”

  “That’s good. How long did you sleep for?” Monti slid her hands down her hips, realizing at the last minute that she was searching for her pockets. She stopped herself and relaxed her arms by her sides. It wouldn’t do to send Athena into another panic accidentally.

  “A few hours.” Athena waved it off as if it was no big deal.

  “That’s huge.” Monti looked directly at her. “How did you manage to relax enough to fall asleep?”

  “I…” Athena trailed off, looking over Monti’s shoulder toward the door. “I don’t know.”

  “Okay. Do you want to maybe figure that out?” Monti clung onto the hope that Athena would agree. It would make this whole process so much easier if she did. “I can give you a massage to help work on the muscles while we talk.”

  Athena sucked in a sharp breath, her gaze dropping decidedly to Monti’s hands before trailing back up and over Monti’s chest, her mouth, and then her eyes. Monti’s heart skipped a beat, because that didn’t look like fear. If she wasn’t mistaken, that was a look of longing.

  “Athena?”

  “Yes. Yes. That sounds good.” Athena stepped around her and toward the door.

  Monti paused, not sure what that interaction had been, but it felt awkward. And it sparked that curiosity deep inside her. What was Athena thinking just then? What had gone through her mind? Stumbling on the step down from where the shelves were, Monti caught herself before she landed flat on her face—but barely.

  Athena had stopped in the doorway, her gaze lingering on Monti as she righted herself. Again that look was there, and Monti wanted to know exactly what she was thinking. Perhaps that was what they needed to tease out during the massage.

  No.

  That wasn’t it.

  They needed to talk about why Athena had been so panicked, why she had nearly gone into a full-blown panic attack all because Monti was late. Monti trailed Athena to her bedroom, and Athena shut and locked the door this time.

  “Kevin won’t be interrupting us. No one will.”

  “All right,” Monti answered, her voice quieter than she expected it to be.

  Athena gave her a tight-lipped smile before nodding and walking toward the bed. “I’ll be right back.”

  Monti stood awkwardly in the center of the bedroom while Athena disappeared into the en suite. It wasn’t until the bathroom door clicked shut that Monti snapped back to reality. Right. She should be preparing for this massage, not standing there trying to figure out why Athena was acting so odd today.

  She’d gone from pissed off, angry, to panicked, and now to what? Because Monti wasn’t sure she could quite put her finger on what Athena was feeling at the moment. Monti snagged a pillow from the head of the bed and put it at the foot, where she’d be more easily able to reach Athena’s body. She set her satchel on the chair she’d slept in and riffled through it until she found the oil they’d used before.

  She wished she had her whole setup. It would make this so much easier. Then again, Athena might be more resistant. It had a more clinical feeling, and was far less relaxed. Since Monti wasn’t massaging the entire day this way, it shouldn’t kill her body too much in the process.

  Athena stepped out of the bathroom, her jacket and shoes off. Her pants were loose fitting, as was the tank top she wore now. She was much shorter without shoes on, but she also seemed so much more relaxed.

  Was this really the same woman she had met before?

  “I set the bed up, if you’re comfortable with that?” Monti asked, checking in like she always did.

  “I am.” Athena sidestepped toward the bed, sliding onto the edge of the mattress.

  Monti followed her, sitting next to Athena for a moment. “Only when you’re ready,” Monti murmured. “I brought the same oil as before.”

  Athena nodded, but didn’t say anything. She leaned forward slightly, the buttons on her blouse parting to reveal the pale skin of her breast, the curve shadowed by the dim light in the room. Monti averted her gaze immediately. She would give Athena as much privacy as she could.

  “What do you think would be most comfortable for you?” Monti watched Athena carefully, looking for any sign that something was wrong.

  “Nothing is ever comfortable,” Athena muttered.

  “Something has to be.”

  Flicking her gaze up, Athena bit her lip. “Not today.”

  “Why today?”

  Sighing heavily, Athena pulled her body backward on the bed, her legs straight out in front of her. Her toes were painted a dark maroon, and she wiggled them. Monti smiled at the move. Athena was already more comfortable with her than she had been before.

  “My son is turning twenty-one in a few weeks,” Athena said, though her tone didn’t bely any emotion.

  She was masking. Monti was sure of it. But she had successfully pointed out the problem, which was a step in the right direction. “That’s a big milestone.”