Page 25 of Love Under Construction

Her confession about the anxiety shocks me.“You still have them?”

“Yes Jameson, I still have anxiety attacks. Daily. And it sucks. I’ve been seeing a therapist for the past few weeks.”

“Shit,” I hiss. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“What’s there to say? I have had a boatload of shit to work through. I’m broken. Damaged. And I don’t even know who to trust anymore. My whole life feels like a fucking lie.”

“Because you’re having a rough go of things right now?”

“I should have known you wouldn’t get it. Not with your perfect life and your perfect parents,” she attacks.

“That’s not fair, and you know it,” I try to keep my voice even. “I have no control over life circumstances, neither to you. We can control how we react and grow from them though.”

“Jameson, I don’t know what I want anymore. My dad - he and my mom were supposed to come up for the opening of The Mason Center. He was so excited about it, and now that he’s gone, I’m beginning to wonder if it’s even worth it.”

“You’re kidding, right? Shit, ever since I’ve known you, you’ve had a passion for kids. For people who have different needs. Even back in school, you made it your mission not only to befriend those who were differently able but be their advocates. That doesn’t change just because Pops passed away. You just got through saying you were staying here. Are you going to tell me that you’ll stay here and watch someone else carry out your dream?”

“Yes, no,” She puts a hand on her forehead. “I don’t know, okay? I thought things would get easier as time went on. And it hasn’t.”

“It hasn’t been that long, Liv. Grief takes time.”

She snorts. “Now you sound like Laura, my therapist.”

“Do you want to talk about that?”

“Therapy?” Liv looks up at me and shakes her head. “Not really.”

“Then let's talk about something else…like the fact that you look like you haven’t showered in a few days.” Taking a chance, I tug her into my lap. “Ew, you smell like it too.” I poke her sides.

It may sound like something shitty to say to a lady, but Liv cracks a smile and punches me in the arm, so it was worth it.

“You’re an asshole.”

“So, you keep saying.” With Liv in my arms, I stand up from the couch and carry her down the hall to the bathroom. “Why don’t you let me pamper you a little tonight?”

Sitting her on the bathroom counter, I quickly turn on the warm water in her soak tub and search for some girlie smelling body wash in her shower. Once the bathtub is filled enough, I take my time undressing her before helping her into the warm water. I’m surprised that she’s yet to protest.

“You’re always looking out for me,” she sighs and leans her head back against the back of the tub.

“Always have, always will.” I find a clean washcloth and sit on the side of the tub. Dipping the cloth into the water, then running it over her skin, I keep talking. “You’ve got to remember to take time for yourself once in a while too, Liv. Even doing something as simple as taking a long bath.”

“Self-care is important,” she mocks, and I flick water from my fingertips at her.

“Don’t be such a smartass.”

Liv lets me get her clean and wash her hair, which she enjoys way too much. And my cock takes notice, hardening with every moan that escapes her lips. By the time she’s done, I’m hard as steel and Liv’s eyes are fighting to stay open. She doesn’t brush me off when I help her from the bathtub and dry her off, and she doesn’t refuse my offer to brush and dry her blonde locks.

Once she’s comfortable in clean pair of pajamas, I tuck her into her bed, fully intending to go back to my place and let her sleep. But when I kiss her forehead to say goodbye, she reaches for my hand and tugs me closer.

“Stay.” She whispers. “Please.”

No matter what she may think, I’ve never been able to deny Liv. So, I stay. Stripping off my jeans and pulling my t-shirt over my head, I crawl into her bed in just my black boxers. Liv rolls over and snuggles close to me. Before I know it, her breath as evened out, and she’s sound asleep.

Chapter 15

Olivia

For the firsttime since the night my dad died, I’ve been able to get some solid sleep. I wake up with one arm wrapped around Jameson and my leg draped over his, and I’m wondering why I’ve denied myself the peace of his comfort in my bed for so long.

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