Page 69 of Pieces of Heaven

“Evil,” Four hisses, and Six nods.

If Xenia weren’t in my way, I’d chase these bitches into the woods. Wouldn’t take much to wear them out. Once they were on the ground, I’d be very tempted to piss on them and say it gave them dementia. From then on, every time they got forgetful, they’d think their special child had cursed them again.

But Xeniaisin front of me, and she isn’t impressed by any of their nonsense.

“I want you to come with me inside the tent.”

“They’re just going to keep singing and humming.”

“We’ll listen to music or just fuck loudly. It’ll be fine,” she says, tugging at my hand. When I refuse to budge, Xenia grunts her disapproval. “Let me win.”

“I always let you win.”

“Eventually, maybe, but you need to back down faster. I’m impatient.”

Despite how much I want to punish those bitches, I can’t deny Xenia’s sexy as hell when she tries to be tough.

“Is that the voice you used with your employees?” I ask, relenting and walking with her back to the tent.

“No, I was much sterner. Of course, they were wearing pants.”

Her calm infects me. I can’t see past Xenia’s smile and teasing tone. The other women become background noise like the frogs’ clicking or birds’ chirping.

Grabbing my clothes yanked off earlier, I follow her into the tent. I don’t get dressed, though. My boxers are destroyed, and I don’t see any point in pants when I might need to get naked quickly.

As we sit on the mattress, I can tell for sure how Xenia isn’t wearing her bra. I also catch sight of her panties still tossed in the corner near my supply bag.

“I want you to see me,” she says as we settle on the mattress while the two women sing. “I know they hurt you. I also don’t care if you hurt them. I just want our time to be about us.”

My earlier irritation fades under Xenia’s lovesick tone and the way her delicate fingers slide across my knuckles. No one’s ever been any good at calming me down when I’m pissed. Not even me. Kourtney would try talking to me, but her presence just reminded me of the many reasons I was so angry.

Xenia’s presence is like the best joint. I feel my tension slipping away the longer I’m focused on her. She scoots closer and offers lemonade. I ask how she made the paninis, just so I can focus on her voice rather than the idiots singing outside.

As if understanding why I’m curious about her cooking, Xenia explains the process slowly, even using her hands to describe certain things. I’m lulled into a peaceful place as I listen to her smooth tone.

Xenia’s super chill right now. Nothing bothers her. She isn’t a good liar, so I know she’s genuinely happy.

After I calm down a little more, I realize I’m also happy in a real way I haven’t been before. For the first time in a long time, I genuinely like being me.

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