Page 107 of Catching Feeling

And for the first time in a long time, I truly don’t feel alone.

26

reese

That’s all she wrote

“Mmm, you know how much I love when you play with my hair,” Viv murmurs against my chest, where she’s sprawled on top of me, her eyelashes fluttering shut as she burrows her face into my neck.

These are my favorite moments.

When everything’s quiet, it’s just the two of us and Boo cuddled up on our couch, reading one of her supernatural books together after a long day of school, baseball, and studying. It’s not something that we can do every night since I have to travel for baseball games with the team, but it makes us appreciate the nights where we can spend time together doing something as simple as this.

Plus, the only way I’m reading this scary shit is if we’re doing it together because I’m not voluntarily picking this up for fun.

I do it for her. Because I’d do anything for her.

“I think you only like me for my talented fingers, Sweet Tart,” I chuckle.

She hums. “And your tongue.”

My chest shakes with laughter, and I bring my fingers to her side, tickling her until she’s squirming. “Always with that smart mouth.”

“I thought you said that it was your favorite thing about me?” She lifts her head and props her chin on her hands, batting those thick, dark lashes at me innocently.

My girl is far from innocent. She’s fucking wild, and I love every damn bit of it. Lately, she’s been… lighter. Less stressed and anxious. More playful, happier.

And I think it’s because things are steadily improving with her mom and she’s able to breathe a little.

It’s been three weeks since her mom’s accident and fourteen days since she admitted herself into a voluntary treatment facility in Dallas. It’s one of the top treatment facilities in the country for mental health recovery, and even though it’s a little further away than Viv wanted, it was the best place for her mom’s care. It helped that her mom was able to tour the place and get a feel for it before deciding to go. She assured Viv that she felt comfortable there, and she seemed really hopeful about going.

Belinda’s insurance wouldn’t approve covering the cost of the facility and only covered minimal mental health treatment at all.

But for the first time ever, Viv’s let me help her with something money related without any protest. I wanted to make sure her mom was taken care of, getting the best possible care. So I asked Viv to let me take care of it, no matter the cost, and she agreed.

Which surprised the hell out of me, but honestly, I’m so glad that I’m able to help, that I can contribute in some way to make this easier for both of them.

And I want to do whatever I can, not just for Viv but for her mom. Because I care about them both.

Viv’s the most important thing in my life, even more than baseball… She’s my number one. She’s my heart. “I did say that it was my favorite thing about you, but then again, there are many, many favorite things about you,” I say, pressing my lips to her forehead. “Like… this.”

I drop the book to the floor and trail my fingers down her side to cup her ass through the tiny pair of cotton shorts she’s wearing, earning a sweet little moan from her. But when I slide my fingers lower, brushing over the heat of her pussy, she stops me.

“I really, really want you to keep doing that with those very talented fingers, but my mom is going to be calling any minute. Remember?”

Shit. I almost forgot. It’s Thursday, and her mom calls on FaceTime.

“After, then,” I promise, reaching down to pick up our book so we can continue where we left off. I will admit this only one time… that I’m a little invested in what’s happening. And it’s not so bad reading something spooky when I’ve got Viv’s body covering mine, with her curled into my chest.

We read for another thirty minutes or so until it’s time for her mom to call. She sits up, grabbing her laptop off the coffee table to set it up. When Belinda calls, she can’t press Answer fast enough.

“Mama!” she breathes, smiling brightly.

Her mom’s face fills the computer screen, and she’s smiling, her eyes brighter than even last week. She looks good, and I know that Vivienne feels the same way because her deep blue eyes are filled with tears.

We’ve been talking a lot about her dad lately and the grief she’s been experiencing silently, and I think it’s been helping to talk about it to someone. She’s also said she wants to start seeing a therapist to focus on unpacking some of the stuff she’s kept buried.

“How are you, Mama?” Viv asks.

---