Page 71 of Empty Heat
“What?”
“He’s not sending in notes.”
Rhodes sat up and looked at me. His tanned chest gleamed. “What?”
“I asked him over as a friend. What happened between us was personal. I made him promise not to talk about it.”
“But, why, Callum? We’re here to help you. If we don’t understand some things and get the full picture, then it makes our jobs much harder. You know that.”
“Yes. But some things are private, special, you know? Not to be analyzed to death. Not to have all the good stuff wrung out.”
Rhodes let a slow smile cross his mouth. “You saying all that tells me a lot. I can work with that.”
“You understand why I can’t talk about it, then?”
He nodded. “Of course, I do. And I’m glad you have something special to take home with you from this trip.”
He was right. Back home, I would have wanted Rhodes as a friend.
“Anyway,” he added, “your heat is over. And we can enjoy ourselves here as much as you want.”
“Thank you.”
“But I do have to ask. Are you in the market for a surrogate now? Or not?”
“Not. It’s fine. I can talk to you. I feel good about that.”
“All right, then. You call the shots. It leaves your case open, but that’s not your problem.”
“Right.” I agreed, smiling at him.
We enjoyed the sun, but every time we walked the grounds or went for a meal, I found myself glancing around to see if Lev was in the area.
Two days passed and I didn’t see him. I could have called or texted, but I was too worried he would put me off.
I feared his rejection. I worried I’d put too much into Lev’s acts to help me through my heat, and now Lev had moved on. It was his job, after all and new patients were showing up to the island every day.
But the thought of him with someone else, someone with problems who needed him like I did, made me queasy. I pictured him touching and soothing them, entering another omega in heat and knotting him.
I wanted to close myself off from everyone, hide away again like always before.
I showed my brightest side to Rhodes. He remained patient, but I could tell he wasn’t buying all of it. He kept asking me if I was okay.
“You’re not disappointed, are you?” he asked one evening. “After everything that happened?”
“No.”
He didn’t pressure me, and he kept me entertained with hikes and pools and good meals.
At night, when I couldn’t sleep, I brought my computer to bed and played the sound of the Caribbean whistle on repeat.
* * *
On the seventh day,Senta came for a last meeting with me.
We sat on my cabin’s front porch, letting the green surroundings drown us. Laughter, pleasured shouts, and the drone of bees and birds enveloped us.
“I have had an amazing time here,” I told Senta. “Thank you for having me.”
