Page 33 of Shameless Expectations

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.

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