Page 22 of Firefly Effect

“And what exactly is sex therapy?”

I shouldn’t find her questions as intriguing as I do, but I try to appease her with a simple answer. “It’s getting to the root cause of sexual anxiety and adopting a positive relationship with sex.” When she doesn’t respond, I decide to ask the question I’m not sure if I should. “Is sex something you’d like to talk about?”

She balks at my question, a short, sharp laugh bursting from her. “With you?” She shakes her head. “No.”

“Is that something you and Jenkins would talk about?”

Laughter bubbles up from deep in her belly. “Are you insane? There is no way in hell I would ever talk to J.D. about my sex life.”

Her reaction throws me for a loop. “You said he knew you better than anyone.”

“He does,” she says, eyes wide. “He knows my past, he knows my fears, and he knows all about my family drama. Those things combined are more than anyone else knows. I don’t see what sex has to do with any of that.”

“Maybe nothing,” I say, nodding. “Or maybe everything.” My eyes linger on hers. “That’s for you to answer. Either way, sex is generally a big part of life.” I hesitate, wondering if I should keep going about this after she said she didn’t want to talk about it with me. “Sex benefits our health in so many ways. It relieves stress, promotes happiness, provides exercise?—”

“I know all that.” She sighs. “I just mean, what does sex have to do with my fears, hopes, and dreams?”

To me, the answer is fairly obvious, but I’m not sure if Evie is ready to hear it—and I can’t ask her more questions to explore this topic with her, considering she already told me no.

“Then let’s leave sex out of it. How about we talk about your relationships, instead? Friendships, boyfriends, ex-boyfriends.”

She stares back at me, and I swear I see a challenge in her eyes. “I got out of a casual relationship a few months ago.” The way she scans me now makes me wonder if she’s looking for a reaction. “The sex was terrible.”

My internal fist pump is yet another indicator that we should not be anywhere near this subject. What is wrong with me? I clear my throat and ask, “How so?”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

I frown. “Not really. What was terrible about it? Was it painful?”

She lets out an uncomfortable laugh. “No.”

“Okay, then, was it the guy? Was he selfish with his needs?”

“No, he definitely tried to…” She pauses like she’s not sure how to phrase what she wants to say.

“But he couldn’t take care of you.” I shouldn’t make that kind of statement. It’s not for me to speak to what she needs to say. She should be entirely sorting it out for herself.

“You’re talking about orgasms,” she says.

I nod. “Of course.”

Her cheeks pinken slightly. “Then no. He couldn’t.”

Aha. “Well, you mentioned this was a casual relationship. Perhaps you were craving an emotional connection?”

Her headshake comes too quickly. “Sex is sex. It doesn’t have to be emotional. There doesn’t have to be a cosmic shift in the tides for me to get off every single time.”

She’s not wrong. “But you couldn’t get off?”

She squirms in her seat. “No.”

“So, what do you think the problem was?”

Evie frowns, and the way she looks down, like she’s ashamed, tells me the answer before she even speaks. “He wanted more than a casual thing.” She runs her palms down the front of her skirt. “He wanted the emotional connection, and I didn’t.” Realization flickers across her features. “I guess it all fucked with my head. It’s my own fault.”

“Why are you so quick to put that blame on yourself?”

“Because I’m the problem. I’ve always been the problem.” She shrugs. “Casual sex is so much easier with men I haven’t known since childhood. I should have never entertained a fling with Gabe.”

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