Page 65 of Under Pressure

“Today,we’ll be working on progressive muscle relaxation, from the bottom of the body up,” Mia tells Angelique, the third participant of the day in the biofeedback-only group. “We’ll breathe in and tense the muscles in your lower legs and feet, hold for a count of five, then breathe out and relax those same muscles for ten seconds.”

She adjusts a couple of the electrodes placed on the girl and continues, “I want you to take notice of how your body feels tense versus relaxed. And then when you’re out in the real world, try to bring back that same sense of awareness so you can identify when you’re feeling stressed and can better self-manage it.”

I find myself following along as they go through each set of muscles, rather than inputting the responses of my physical activity and control group that I haven’t done yet. There’s something about her voice as she leads Angelique through the exercise that’s so calming, so soothing, it’s hard to reconcile with the girl I watched scream my name Saturday night, back bowed, utterly lost in her pleasure.

I’d tried my best to convince her there was nothing about me that was generous, but the way she had looked at me with such trust in her eyes, first lying beneath me, then glancing over her shoulder as I’d ridden her from behind, I could barely stand it. I don’t inspire that kind of loyalty.

I’d had to position her so I wouldn’t have to look into that trusting face anymore, but it hadn’t helped. I couldn’t just focus on her body, only use it as an instrument to get us both off. She’d made me really experience it, revel in it, appreciate it all in a way I hadn’t done before. Watching how she’d quivered under my touch, her inner muscles gripping me tight as she’d broken apart, drawing out my own orgasm… was it any wonder I found it all too personal?

She’d seemed disappointed when I said I had to leave, but I couldn’t stay there any longer. She was too tempting. A representation of everything I don’t want in my life.

So why do I find myself constantly drawn to her?

I turn back to my computer screen, ignoring Mia’s soothing therapist voice and continue inputting the data. After she’s finished with her last session, I pack up quickly before she can suck me into a conversation that’ll end with me even more under her spell, but she packs her bag hurriedly too, saying she needs to get to a new tutoring client who only has room in her schedule to meet right now. We head down the flight of stairs together and out of the building, parting ways where the sidewalk splits, toward campus or the parking lot.

I have a shift at the computer lab tonight, so there’s not much use in driving home, only to come back an hour later. I’ll just grab something to eat as I walk over there.

“See you Thursday,” she calls out as she power-walks toward her car. “Text me if you want to do anything tomorrow night.”

I raise my hand to let her know I heard her, but don’t respond. The urge to agree to any kind of meetup is too strong. I need to minimize how often I hang out with her outside of the lab or bedroom. Anything else is blurring the lines. She’s become a part of every facet of my life. The research study, school, family, the gym. Maybe even the bedroom is too much.

“You didn’t have to lie to me.”

I startle, turning around to find Lainie, my last hookup from a few months ago before Mia. Why are all these girls suddenly coming out of the woodwork? “What?” I ask, at a loss for what she’s referring to.

“About not doing relationships or whatever. You could have just said you weren’t interested in me. I’m so tired of guys lying.”

I fully focus on her, wondering why she’s even here. Is she a psych major too? I met her at a Halloween party Ethan took me to last semester. “What are you talking about? I never lied to you.”

“You and Mia.” She points in the direction of the parking lot to where Mia just walked away and I instinctively glance back, though she’s out of sight by now.

“What about me and Mia?” I shake my head. “Wait, how do you even know her?”

“We had Cognitive Psych together last semester. She’s the only person who got an A, everyone knew her. And you said you didn’t date anyone. Is it because she’s smart? Because, you know, I’m smart too—”

I hold up a hand, cutting her off. “We’re not dating.”

“Oh.” She looks taken aback. “It just looked like—”

“It doesn’t matter what it looked like, because it’s not anything. We’re working on a research study together.”

I push past her, suddenly edgy. Who the hell is she to show up out of nowhere and confront me like that? Just because she happened to catch Mia saying bye to me? Like I owe her any kind of explanation after we hooked up once, four months ago? I was very clear to her it was a one-time deal. She said she was fine with that before we started, though she pressed for more afterward.

More than one person gets out of my way as I trek over to the cafeteria to get food, my anger manifesting itself around me. This is exactly what I was afraid of. Mia and I are too entwined. I need to find a way to separate us.

Before it’s too late.

* * *

“Thanks, James. We’ll see you next week.” Mia opens the door for our last participant on Thursday, showing him out, then turns back around, pretending to wipe sweat from her head. “Is it just me or did it seem to take forever today?”

“Yeah,” I grunt, focused on packing up my bag.

“Do you have plans this weekend?”

“Just work and boxing.”

“Could I go with you again? I seriously think I’m getting better—”

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