Page 24 of Unclench Me Softly

And God help me, I want to lick his jaw.

Focus, Bliss. Focus.

“I’ll show you to your dome,” I say, already walking because if I stand here another second, my uterus is going to start composing poetry.

He follows in silence, but his presence feels diagnostic. Like he’s taking mental notes on my posture, my breathing, my chakra balance. I hate it. I love it. I am not okay.

“This is your space,” I say when we reach Dome Two. “It’s been energetically cleared and emotionally fluffed.”

He raises a perfect eyebrow. “Emotionally fluffed?”

“I don’t know,” I snap, turning on him. “I’ve had a week, and it’s only Tuesday.”

He pauses. Then, softly, like a therapist breaking bad news with a candle lit between you, he says, “You look like someone who’s used to pretending they’re in control.”

I blink. Hard. Like that’ll shake it off.

“You look like someone who says that to people who cry during facials.”

He smiles.

And it’s obscene. It’s illegal. It’s a full-body event.

“That’s not inaccurate,” he says.

I stare at him a second too long. He’s all sharp edges and smooth delivery, like a TED Talk wrapped in a fever dream. My brain is melting.

“Your schedule’s in the dome,” I manage. “First ritual starts in an hour. Try not to be more on time than you already are, it’s making the other men nervous.”

He inclines his head solemnly. “Of course.” He steps inside.

I take three giant steps back, breathe like I’ve just run a marathon, and immediately message Callie.

ME:

he’s hot

too hot

he’s either a sociopath or a soul contract with a six-pack

send holy water and a paper bag

I arrange the final cushion in the sacred circle, then step back and stare at my masterpiece.

Seven cushions. Four guests. One guru. Two empty spots.

I tell myself the empty ones are symbolic. Space for growth. For spirit. For divine potential.

But really, they just scream “Jonah Vale is late and I hate him already.”

Which is unfair, I know. He could be lost. Or delayed. Or a chronic Aquarius. But it’s the principle of the thing, only one of the five men I tricked into paying for spiritual realignment actually showed up on time.

One.

Miles.

Of course it was Miles.

---