Page 64 of Fielder's Choice

“I don’t think I would have either,” I sigh. “I was already doing better before I met him, but Lane has honestly been really great for me, too. He’s open and honest. I can’t doubt myself as easily when he tells me exactly what he’s thinking.”

“You really have been spending a lot of time with Lane, haven’t you?” Corinne asks.

“I have. I ended up staying with him Saturday night. And we talked for a while on the phone last night.”

“I think it’s great that you’re putting yourself out there,” she smiles. “How has everything else been?”

“Well, I haven’t had any more nightmares, so that’s been nice.” I fidget with the hem of my sweater now, growing moreuncomfortable. “I also, uh… tried to take care of myself last night. But I couldn’t climax.”

“Why do you think that is?”

“I’m not sure,” I admit. “It’s not like I have any usable experience, so I don’t know what I’m doing. But maybe I was overthinking it. All I know is that I tried, and it didn’t work.”

Corinne sits back against her chair, placing her clipboard on her lap. “You’ve gone through some very tough things, Olive. It’s hard to overcome your trauma, but trying to satisfy your needs now is a great step. The more you try, the more likely you’ll be able to get out of your head and be successful.”

I let out a deep breath.

As uncomfortable as I am surrounding all things sex, I can talk to Corinne about anything. We’ve established a great relationship since I started seeing her.

Hopefully, discussing this issue with her will help me get out of my head.

And when I get out of my head, maybe I canfinallystop shying away from all things intimacy.

twenty-two

Lane

I’vecometotheconclusion that whoever designed leotards is evil.

I’m here to watch my daughter at her ballet lesson, and all I can focus on is how fuckinggoodOlive looks right now. I can’t help but notice how her white leotard hugs her body perfectly, skin-tight and enticing. Pair that with white tights and a light pink ballet skirt, and I know that the image of her right now will be running through my head on a loop during some alone time.

When I finally tear my eyes away from her body, all I can see is the genuine joy on Sage’s face as she works with Olive. She’s learned so much, and she’s having the most incredible time while she does.

As much as I like Olive, I know nothing between us could ever work if my daughter didn’t like her, too. But with the way Sage looks at her like she hung the damn moon, there’s nothing stopping me from going all in with my Ballerina.

All I need is a chance to talk to her alone after the lesson today.

So, I just wait patiently and watch as they dance. I can see Sage’s confidence grow with every lesson, and I know by thespring recital, she’s going to be absolutely amazing, especially with Olive as her teacher.

I know she took some time away from ballet, but to my untrained eyes, I can see that she’s a natural. The way her body moves leaves me awestruck. She’s incredibly flexible, and I will myself to not consider what that would mean for something else. She’s graceful and demure and so fuckingpretty. I love getting to see Olive do something she’s so passionate about.

In sharing that, she’s giving my not-quite-three-year-old daughter something to be passionate about as well. As a dad, what more could I possibly ask for?

But since Sage is technically still two, she acts like a two-year-old. When their lesson is winding down, she starts running around the studio instead. Olive is surprised at first but decides to roll with it.

I’m now watching my daughter and the woman I’m so captivated by running around the studio together, their loud laughter echoing through the room. And I just look on with the brightest smile on my face.

The door opens behind me, and Eileen pops in. “What’s going on in here?” she asks curiously. “I could hear you all the way down in my office.”

“Sage seems to be tired of dancing for now, and she led me on a high-speed toddler chase,” Liv laughs.

“She’s lightning fast,” I chuckle. “I’m constantly chasing her around to make sure she doesn’t run into traffic.”

Eileen grins and shakes her head, walking over to Sage before bending to her level. “Sage, are you giving Olive a hard time?”

“No, we have fun!” my daughter beams, her smile all teeth.

“That we were, sweet girl,” Olive says, rubbing her hand down Sage’s back. I love the relationship that she already has with my daughter.

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