Shameless expectations, p.15
Shameless Expectations, page 15
Fallon stalked past Monti, bumping purposely into Monti’s shoulder as she headed for the door. Monti cringed but said nothing and barely even moved as she waited for the door to slam behind her. When it didn’t happen, she opened her eyes to look directly into Athena’s pale blue ones.
Her heart stuttered.
“I guess we all have it in us to be petty.”
Monti snorted loudly. She shook her head, her lips curling upward. Raising her hand to her mouth, she tried to hold back her laughter, but she couldn’t manage it. Laughing loudly, Monti did the only thing she could think of. She snagged Athena’s hand and squeezed it hard before letting go. “Fuck, yes.”
“I’ve never seen Fallon that upset before.”
“Clearly you don’t know what buttons to push.” Monti winked. “Little sisters are the best for that.”
“Hmmm.” Athena glanced toward Fallon’s desk as if she was still sitting there. “I’ll have to take your word for that. I don’t have a sibling, and since Simon is an only child…” Athena trailed off with a small shrug of her shoulder. “What were you two arguing about?”
Monti sighed heavily. She really didn’t want to talk about it, especially not here. Besides, how much of it was her story to tell and how much of it was Fallon’s? If Fallon hadn’t told her, then Monti didn’t want to be the one to break that silence. It would change Athena’s view of both of them. And if Monti were the one to share? It would break even more ethical boundaries that really needed to be in place right now.
“It’s not important.”
“I’m pretty sure you would tell me otherwise if positions were reversed.”
Positions.
Athena naked on the bed, staring up at her with complete vulnerability in her eyes before she writhed to orgasm flashed through Monti’s mind. She really didn’t need that memory to pop back up now. She needed to end this relationship—quickly. Monti needed to move on and find somewhere else to explore immediately.
“Don’t like it when the tables are turned?” Athena’s tone had a teasing quality to it, one that Monti wasn’t used to hearing. Was this woman someone else entirely now?
Monti took a deep breath. How was she supposed to get out of this one? She wished she’d been allowed to follow Fallon. As much as their argument would have continued, it also would have been resolved much more quickly without this break in the action.
“Monti.” Athena stepped in closer to her. “Do you want to talk here, in my office, or in my library?”
“Is there a fourth option of not at all?”
Athena grinned. She was so beautiful. Her body so light and carefree in ways Monti hadn’t seen her before. This must be who she was beneath all of that stress, and since they’d managed to unload some of it, Monti was finally able to see who Athena really was. Who she wanted to be.
“No,” Athena answered, her lips still curled upward. “All feelings matter.”
“Fuck you,” Monti said with a laugh. On instinct, she threaded their fingers together and stared down at them. When had their lives become so tangled together that she struggled to separate them? Because it wasn’t like she was in love. It wasn’t like she wanted a relationship. Athena was married.
“Where are we going?” Athena reminded her of the original question.
Giving in to the inevitable, Monti looked into Athena’s eyes. She found clear strength reflected back at her, confidence, but also compassion. Monti’s breath caught in her throat, and she struggled to form an answer.
“Library.”
eighteen
“Is this where the tables turn?” Athena smiled at her question before taking a sip of her tea. Ever since they’d come into the library, Monti had been stunningly quiet. However, she was anything but at peace. Athena could see that a mile away.
“Meaning you become the therapist and I become the unwilling victim?” Monti winked, her lips curled up slightly.
That had to be a good sign, right? Athena chuckled lightly, enjoying this alternative storyline to their acquaintanceship. “I’m not sure I’d call you unwilling.”
“I meant you.” Monti took her own mug of tea and brought it to her lips. They pursed as she gingerly took a sip, no doubt to test the temperature. Then Monti put the mug on her knee and sighed heavily. “What has Fallon told you?”
“About?”
Monti stared out the window. It was a tactic Athena was quite familiar with. The debate over what to say, the search for the right words. Athena gave her the time, not prompting even though she really wanted to. Resisting her nature was hard.
“About our mother.”
“I know she passed when Fallon was young.” Athena took another sip, enjoying the way the floral notes blended together. This was one of her favorites, and she was so glad that’s what had been brought when she’d requested it.
“I was two when our mother died. Fallon was nine.” Monti spun her cup on her knee carefully, the liquid not sloshing over the side. Still Monti wouldn’t look at her.
Was she embarrassed?
How could she be? It wasn’t like it was her mother’s fault that she died. Or was it? Athena spun through the possibilities, but she’d never looked into it. She’d left Fallon alone when she’d mentioned it.
Monti sighed heavily and rubbed her palm over her forehead. “You can’t treat her differently. I know you’ll see her differently than before, but if I tell you this, you have to treat her the same.”
Athena’s lips parted, the rejection of whatever Monti was thinking on the tip of her tongue, but something in Monti’s eyes made her stop. There was that carefully guarded pain again. Monti blinked and the spell was broken.
“I’ll try my best,” Athena answered honestly. “But I assume what you’re going to tell me is going to change the way I see her.”
Monti grimaced.
“I can tell from your reaction that it will.” Athena put her mug down. “Go ahead.”
“Fallon and I were raised by Tia, our aunt, after our mother died. I don’t remember much from before. You’d have to ask her for details, but I’d suggest not doing that. She doesn’t like to talk about it.”
“Does anyone like to talk about their trauma?” Athena answered dryly.
Monti smirked. “You might be surprised, but some people do. Or at least they like the release they get afterward.”
Athena hadn’t thought about it that way before. She’d seen people in the aftermath of trauma so many times. She’d never thought that perhaps it was freeing. She’d only ever seen justice be freeing, and since she’d never had it… Athena snapped back to the room and the moment.
“You’re avoiding,” Athena mumbled softly.
“I know.” Monti gave a wan smile and shook her head. “I don’t remember it. But Fallon does, and she expects me to remember it or to be as affected by it as she is. And sometimes I just want to tell her to fuck off, you know?”
“No, not really.” Athena furrowed her brow in confusion. Monti still hadn’t told her what had happened. In fact, she’d only gotten more vague by the moment.
Monti groaned and dragged her fingers through her hair, ruffling it. She put her mug on the side table between the chairs and leaned down, elbows on knees. Athena pressed her lips together and did the unthinkable. She reached over and trailed her fingers up and down Monti’s back. Monti visibly shivered before she shrugged off Athena’s touch. Giving up, Athena pressed her hand back into her lap and waited Monti out.
“Our dad killed our mom.”
“Oh.” The wind rushed from Athena’s lungs. She hadn’t seen that one coming, and she should have. Monti stayed bent over her legs, hands cupping her face.
“Then he killed himself.”
“Monti—I’m so, so—”
“I don’t want to hear it.” Monti jerked her chin up, shaking her head. She looked Athena directly in the eye. “I don’t. I don’t remember them. They weren’t my parents.”
“But it still affects you.”
“Not really. What affects me is the fact that Fallon expects it to affect me the same as it does her. And it doesn’t. I just don’t care. And I don’t believe in heaven like she does, so I don’t believe I can just talk to them—not that I’d want to anyway. And I don’t believe that anything but a shell of her body is in that coffin.”
“What do you believe, then?” Athena kept her tone calm, trying to use it to soothe Monti’s obvious upset.
“I believe she moved on. I’d like to think she did anyway. That now she’s free from an abusive drunken asshole.” Monti turned, looking directly into Athena’s eyes, and tears streamed down her cheeks. “I believe she found peace.” Monti’s voice broke on the last word.
Athena’s heart shattered right along with her. Monti was just as broken as she was. They hid it in different ways, but they were equally broken—smashed by the realities of the world. “You can tell me all you want that this doesn’t affect you, Monti, but you’re crying. It might not be the same as Fallon’s pain, but it’s there. Deep within you. Justice wasn’t served.”
“It couldn’t be.” A deep line formed in the center of Monti’s forehead. “He killed himself.”
“But without that closure—”
“I was two!” Monti’s voice rose. Her fingers clenched the side of the chair tightly, turning white from the force.
“Yes, you were.” Athena folded her hands together, running her thumb against her palm. “Ten years ago I worked on this case where a young woman had been brutally murdered and the investigation was botched.” Athena waved her hand in the air. “The woman had a brother who was five and her mom was pregnant with another on the way. Different dads from the first to the last. It doesn’t really matter.”
“What’s the point, Athena?” Monti’s voice was sharp.
“The point is that even though the second brother wasn’t born at the time of the murder, he still grew up with the ghost of his sister. There is no getting rid of that pain. It wasn’t like his brother’s or his mother’s. But it was still there. Whether or not you and Fallon have different beliefs about the afterlife, you are two individuals. Each and every person experiences things differently, but our past traumas and the family trauma that we come from affect us even if we don’t want it to.”
Monti gaped. She stared wide-eyed at Athena for a brief second before shaking her head and letting out a soft chuckle. “Who’s the psychologist now?”
“Let’s just say, I’m a quick learner.”
“Sure.” Monti closed her eyes and scratched the back of her head. “Some massage today, huh?”
“This is more important.”
“Refereeing arguments between siblings?”
“Learning more about you.” Athena said the words before she could stop them. She should have stopped them. Because the look Monti gave her now was pure fear. This was what she’d been afraid of. The last time they’d been in the same room, something had happened. Something that altered the state of their relationship. Athena wasn’t sure they would ever be able to go back to the way it was.
She wasn’t sure she wanted to.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“No. No. We do need to talk about that.”
Monti’s emphasis on the last word set Athena on edge. She didn’t know what to say. Was she embarrassed? Yes. …And no. Did she want it to happen again? She wasn’t entirely sure about that. But they hadn’t talked about it. Athena had avoided that like she normally did.
“We really don’t.” Athena stood up and walked to the window, abandoning her tea and Monti. She knew it was a defense mechanism, but she couldn’t stop herself. She needed space. She needed to avoid Monti.
“We do.” Monti was right behind her.
Athena gasped and spun around, nearly coming nose to nose with Monti. Moving from Monti’s troubles to Athena’s wasn’t what she’d planned for this conversation. Hell, they weren’t even supposed to be talking. Monti was supposed to be massaging. Athena’s heart was in her throat, and it was so difficult to breathe, especially with Monti standing this close to her. But it wasn’t a scared fear, not a run-for-her-life fear. This was so different than that.
“I don’t want you to be embarrassed about what happened.” Monti’s words were meant to calm, however they did anything but.
All Athena felt was the same all-over-body warmth that she’d had when Monti was touching her. But not touching her like that. Not like Athena had actually wanted her to. Damn it. When had she wanted that? Athena’s heart raced. Monti took Athena’s hand lightly.
“It happens sometimes,” Monti added.
What was she even supposed to say in response? Athena bit the inside of her cheek, something that was becoming a bad habit lately. She broke the touch from Monti and faced the window, crossing her arms and staring out at the forest outside. Fallon was out there walking somewhere. That or she was already back at her desk, working. Probably that. Fallon wasn’t someone who would leave the office for long, and Athena had no doubt that she was still upset about the argument.
“You should go talk to Fallon.”
“And apologize?” Monti asked.
Athena nodded.
“I will. Don’t worry.” Monti put her hand on Athena’s elbow, cupping it. “Right now, I’m here to talk to you.”
“I think we’re not doing that today.”
“No, we’re not having a massage today.” Monti stepped in even closer.
Athena’s heart doubled its rate. She was sure of it. Because what else was this feeling? She turned her head, lifting her chin and looking directly into Monti’s eyes. “You should talk to Fallon.”
“We need to talk about the other day.” Monti dropped her gaze down to Athena’s lips, then moved them back up to her eyes.
What was that?
Athena moved onto her toes. She was getting closer. She needed to stop herself. But she’d never been this comfortable with anyone before. She’d never thought something like this would happen. She closed her eyes, wishing they were anywhere else but here. But if Monti was involved, she was pretty sure they would have ended up here anywhere. They’d almost kissed twice before.
Athena had thought about it so many times in the intervening weeks that she couldn’t stop. She didn’t want to stop. Groaning, Athena shook her head and faced the window again. “No.”
“No?” Monti asked, moving in even closer.
“No.” Athena’s fingers quivered. Her heart raced. She didn’t want to talk about anything. She wanted to escape to her bedroom, away from all of this. She wanted Monti to leave her alone. No, that wasn’t right. She wanted to see what it was like. If all those dreams were anywhere close to reality.
“Athena, we need to put some boundaries in place now that—”
“Now that we’ve crossed them,” Athena interrupted. She was sure that’s what Monti was going to say. It was what she would say in this situation if the roles were reversed. Athena should be terminating their contract. She should be refusing to hire Monti any longer. But the problem was that in the short time they had known each other, Athena had discovered she couldn’t leave. She could demand Monti did, but right now, staring into those deep brown eyes, Athena couldn’t find the words.
“Now that we’ve crossed them,” Monti repeated, her voice dropping at the end.
“I don’t want to talk about it.” Athena tried to make her feet move, but she couldn’t do it.
“You haven’t told me to leave yet.”
Damn Monti for being right.
Athena bit her cheek again. What were they doing here? They’d come to the library to talk, to have it out over the argument that Monti was having with Fallon. And how had they ended up here? Fingers clasped together. Toes inches apart. Athena’s heart racing. Her entire body telling her to close the gap.
“Monti,” Athena whispered, wishing that Monti would stop whatever was happening. That she would know just how hard this was for Athena.
“Athena,” Monti answered, a tease in her tone. Which was the exact opposite of what Athena needed right now. “You say my name in five hundred different ways and each one has a different meaning. Did you know that? I don’t know you well enough to decipher them all.”
“Fuck,” Athena mumbled before moving in. She pressed their mouths together, holding her breath. She kept her eyes closed and waited for her brain to catch back up.
What am I doing?
Monti dropped Athena’s hand and slid her fingers behind Athena’s neck and dragged her in closer. She backed up for a second before moving in again, this time with her lips pursed as if she was ready for it. Athena hummed, wrapping her arm around Monti’s side and splaying her fingers along Monti’s back.
Monti’s lips parted in an open-mouthed kiss that Athena readily accepted. Her body was right back to where it had been before—on fire, heated, wet, and ramped up. Athena groaned as she flicked her tongue out against Monti’s lower lip. She tasted like the tea, a slight bitter note but mostly floral, the hibiscus coming in full force a second later.
Athena was just about to slide in for more when Monti pulled away. She shook her head and put space between them. Suddenly everything they’d done felt wrong. Athena’s stomach twisted hard, the hot tea sinking and churning to the point that she wanted to throw up.
“I’m so sorry,” Athena whispered, stepping back. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
“You’re a beautiful woman.”
“I don’t need an easy letdown, Monti.” Athena put that wall firmly in place. She couldn’t take the usual comments. Not from Monti. Not when everything between them had been so pure and authentic. Not when she was safe, when Monti had never lied to her before.
Monti’s lips quirked up slightly, and she pulled Athena back to her. “Not what I was going to say.” Monti trailed fingers over Athena’s cheek, then her shoulder, down her arm, lacing their fingers together again in a safe way. “You’re a beautiful woman, Athena. And yes, it’s been hard to resist your beauty. What’s on the outside, but also what’s in here.” Monti lifted her free hand and pressed her palm directly over the center of Athena’s chest.
