Page 66 of Unclench Me Softly

“Metaphorical eyes,” I say, already shepherding them toward the door. “Follow your instincts. Do not return until you’ve found your token.”

Asher gasps like this is the best quest he’s ever been on. “Yes! Yes, this is exactly the kind of silent forest pilgrimage I was hoping for.”

They scatter.

Miles goes reluctantly, Jonah with intention, Seb like he’s already halfway into the bark, Jax muttering something about finding a sacred stick to beat his stillness into place.

And Asher beams at me like I hung the moon and wrapped it in velvet.

Once they’re gone, I collapse into a cushion, robe in my lap, face in my hands.

Then I pull out my phone and text Callie.

ME:

stillness day is fake and i just sent five emotionally unstable men into the woods to find meaningful dirt

ME:

i had sex with jax last night and miles whispered threats at me like a sensual librarian and then asher just gave me a weighted robe with lavender microbeads

ME:

he called it a womb cloak, callie. a womb. cloak.

i think i saw god

CALLIE:

i leave you alone for two days and suddenly you’re the emotional nucleus of a himbo harvest festival

CALLIE:

pls send pics of the robe and also jax’s abs. for wellness.

ME:

it smells like a hug from someone who’d rub your back during a panic attack and then rail you respectfully

CALLIE:

so... asher’s the one who’s going to ruin your soul, huh?

ME:

that’s what’s terrifying. i thought it would be the chaotic one with the motorcycle and the rage.

but no.

it’s the one who makes me tea and believes in my fake spiritual curriculum.

CALLIE:

oh honey.

that man’s not a fox cub.

he’s a spiritual trap in a soft hoodie and you’re already in it.

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