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“Yes, but she’s not half as pretty as you,”Cleo jests.

Cleo manages to roll Peyton off her back, like she has a black belt in Jujutsu. They end up side by side at the bottom of the bed in a tangle of arms and legs, out of breath, and in a fit of laughter. Cleo’s excessively large sweatpants have fallen down and Peyton’s tank top reveals one boob.

Jesse usually comes bursting through the door in moments like this. Hearing the commotion, he thinks Peyton’s being attacked but, tonight he is on a date. A date with Alisha, whom he met eight hours earlier and proceeded to ask out during the twenty seconds long elevator ride down from floor three. He has more confidence in his right arm than Peyton has in herwhole body.

After he chased her towards the recording studio, went through two unauthorised access areas, and almost got thrown out by security he’d clearly done enough to make her ovaries burst with desire, or it was the easiest way to get rid of him. She’ll find out when he returns home.

Cleo presses her lips to Peyton’s forehead and mumbles, “Are you okay?”

She wants to nod and smile, but her eyes well up before she can stop them.

“Come here, baby.” Cleo lies on her back and cradles Peyton in her arms. It’s the only place shefeels safe.

“I feelridiculous.”

“Why? You’re allowed to show emotion. It’s what makes us human.”

“Yeah, but if I don’t know why I’m upset I’m just unstable,” Peyton states. Her head bumps up and down on Cleo’s chest as she laughs. She settles after a few seconds. Their breathing returns to normal; they’re in sync. They even walk to the same rhythm, and Peyton loves it. She’s sure that’s a checkbox item in the‘How You Know Someone Is theOne Manual’.

“Are you scared?” Cleo asks.

“Yes,” Peyton responds.

“Why? What is it thatscares you?”

It’s a simple question.

“I’m not sure.”

“Is it the unknown? Are you worried she might tell you things you don’t want to hear? Or is it because you’re thinking she’s only giving us this deal because she knew your mom?”

“All of the above.” Peyton lifts her hand to wipe away the tear that rolls from her left eye to her lips. She can taste the salty liquid.

“Sometimes we confuse fear with excitement.” Cleo runs her hand through Peyton’s hair. “Our brains trigger the same reaction in our body for both. The only difference is how we deal with it and how we process our thoughts about thesituation.”

“You sound like a therapist.” Peyton smiles.

“My mom is atherapist.”

How did Peyton not know that? Come to think of it, Cleo doesn’t talk about her mom much.

“You must be the most put together person there is then?”

“Hardly. I think I rebelled because I was fed up hearing my mom say, “you can’t control the situation, but you can control your reaction”, every time I got into trouble at school. It’s why I got a tattoo when I wasseventeen.”

“You were a bad boy, huh?” Peyton muses.

“The worst.” Cleo smirks. “I suppose when I stopped being an ungrateful little asshole and realised she was trying to help me I learnt some things.”

“Okay, let’s say you’re the therapist. I’ve walked into your office. What advice would you give?”

“I’d start by picking my jaw up off the floor,”Cleo teases.

“Stop, I’m being serious.” Peyton tickles under her arm.

“Okay. Okay.” She holds the standard-lengthy therapist pause for effect, and she continues. “I would say to change the way you think about a situation you must examine your thoughts, Miss Harris. You have to understand what makes you scared, nervous, or fearful. Can those feelings be altered? Can you rationalise and remove the danger? You basically have to trick your mind into thinking what you fear is exciting.” Cleo sounds confident in her speech. She’sgood at it.

“So, I’m scared of Bugsy the tarantula. I want to puke when I see his cage is open, and I’d consider throwing myself down the stairs over standing within three inches of him. Are you suggesting that if I think,I really like this tarantula; he resembles a cute puppy, then I’ll be able to hold him?”