If she wanted to cuddle on the couch could she pick one and hang out, or would they always be three? Her head hurt and as she relaxed enough to pee she felt a stinging that took her by surprise. Oh. Yeah. That whole area was still sore from those two.
Who had lied to her.
Lied. Not told. Same thing.
Snot covered her face as she wiped her nose with the palm of her hand, misjudging how full her nose really was. Cheap, scratchy toilet paper cleaned her up but just made everything feel raw now. Would any part of her ever not feel raw, so shaky and vulnerable? As she finished up and washed her hands in the sink she found herself staring into the mirror, her eyes puffy and red from crying, the bloodshot whites in great contrast to the shiny color, the stained walls behind her covered in graffiti that probably extended back to Madge’s youth.
Big sigh. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale—just as the automatic air deodorizer pushed out a little spritz, filling her lungs with some God-awful fake Lily of the Valley scent that mixed with the stench of the bathroom and made her gag.
Great. Like this couldn’t get any worse. She fled the bathroom, gasping for fresh air, and the sight before her told her that why, yes, Laura. It could get worse.
Josie was whacking Dylan with a set of rubber balls.
Retreat! Retreat! Had they seen her? Ducking behind the coat rack, she crouched, feeling stupid and ridiculous. Mike sat down and introduced himself; she had a full view of the scene from behind someone’s cigarette-soaked tan barn coat. He shook Josie’s hand and then Josie yammered at him. From afar, the interaction was almost comical, Josie’s mosquito-like buzzing a stark contrast to Mike’s slow, steady existence. Dylan sat, cocky and comfortable, arms stretched out behind him across the top of the booth. Josie whacked him in the lap with the balls and Laura giggled. The way he folded in half told her it hurt.
Good.
Tears filled her eyes. Good? Jesus, Laura— Good? Now you’re wishing harm on him?
No. Not OK. Time to go out there and—what? Confront them? Confront yourself?
Nope. Time to go back and have your cake.
And maybe finish eating it, too.
The more she talked, the calmer he got. Zen. Focus on what is. Just breathe. Let her existence interfere with nothing. What she said, she said. Who she was, she was.
When she whacked Dylan with the balls, it just was.
And it was funny as hell.
Mike pulled out every meditative awareness technique he could think of, with more than ten years of reading, practice, conferences, and seminars under his belt. Nothing seemed to work very well with Josie, though; she was spitfire and alllll reaction. Completely unaware of how she seemed to everyone else kinetically, she just moved through time and space as sheer energy.
He remembered a time when he was like that, years ago, a time when he was so exhausted all the time. So busy searching for something, judging everything, fiercely protective and loyal to his loved ones and scanning, yearning, sorting and journeying to find —what?
He hadn’t known. Still wasn’t sure, but he definitely understood now that slowing down, acting rather than reacting, and just being present helped him to find it.
All this back patting must be tiring, Mike, his inner voice said, clearing its throat. He sighed.
Touché.
Nothing about the night was going as planned. Plans. His plans; Dylan had been very kind back there, not blurting out the truth. Having Dylan surprise them at the cabin had been Mike’s bright idea. Stupid stupid stupid, the voice said now, a taunting, lilting tone.
It wasn’t supposed to look like they’d ganged up on her. He’d envisioned a different outcome, not the threesome they’d enjoyed but more of a quiet talk, some soul bearing, and a gentle discussion about possibilities.
Dylan had changed the plan, coming far later than planned and interrupting them at the most delicate of moments, then broaching the subject like a bull in a china shop. Delicacy and tact were never his strong suits, to say the least.
When she’d agreed, Mike had been as shocked as she probably was. Never in a million years would he have pegged her as someone who would, in the heat of the moment (and oh, what a hot one it had been...) make a snap decision like that and just jump. Leap. Go for it.
Have her fill.
The thought made the corner of his mouth shift up, not quite a smile, definitely not a smirk. Washing his face with his hands, he wondered how he and Dylan appeared to Josie. Were they freaks? Jerks? Guys who were somehow mindfucking her best friend?
From the look on her face right now he guessed the answer was All of the Above.
He made himself seem like he was paying attention to the conversation that unfolded before him between him, Josie, and Dylan, but all of his focus was on Laura. She’d gotten up and gone to the bathroom and her skin was still on his lips from that simple kiss. Why had he been so bold? She seemed moved to tears, unable to walk straight.