Page 87 of Feeling the Heat: Part Two
I grip his shoulder tighter. “Jackson, you matter as much as Camille.”
He snorts as if the words are comical.
“Youdo.” Jackson’s eyes widen at my adamance, but I keep my gaze steady.
He breaks eye contact first, looking down with a mumbled, “Thanks.”
I want to discuss this with him more, but Camille and River enter the kitchen, their eyes shining and cheeks flushed.
“So what do you want for dinner?” Jackson asks, sliding on his smile like a mask. When he looks my way again, he gives me a small smile and reassurance down the bond, letting me know he heard me. That he appreciates me.
It’s all I can do not to pull him into a hug right then and there. My chest expands until it aches with how full it is at the thought of this pack healing and deepening our connections.
“Is thereanything in particular you’d like to discuss today?” Dr. Mike shifts back in his chair, calmly assessing me as he always does at the beginning of our sessions.
“Oh, just the usual. Worrying I’m going to fuck everything up.” My tone is flippant, but there’s a lightness in my chest when I make the joke. Like the constant companion of my worry and self-doubt is less a monster clawing at me and more a slightly annoying neighbor.
Dr. Mike must recognize the difference, because for the first time he actually cracks a smile when I say it. “What’s the thing you’re most worried about messing up right now?”
I take a moment to consider. That’s one of the best things I’ve learned to do from these therapy sessions—allow myself time to process and consider instead of getting anxious that I don’t have a good answer right away and shutting down. The silence in the air while I think is less oppressive than in the past.
“It’s a tie between Camille’s impending heat and…” I sigh, scrubbing a hand over my face, “Jackson.”
The enormous alpha across from me quirks a brow. “You sure it’s a tie? Or is it that you think you should be equally worried about Camille’s heat?”
The question shouldn’t take me aback after the many hours I’ve spent being expertly analyzed by my therapist, but it does.
“I’m not sure.”
He waits for me to speak again.
“Things are going surprisingly well with Camille,” I admit.
Dr. Mike nods. “Why is that a surprise?”
“Oh, uh, well, because I thought she’d still be upset with me. To be honest, I feel like I have to pinch myself when I’m around her because while I try not to use the bond, I can still feel when she’s happy to be with me. The sex I understand, because it’s a biological need for her with all the heat spikes, but, the rest?” Just this morning she kissed my cheek when I had a cup of coffee and her usual oatmeal ready for her when she got up, and I felt a surge of affection that almost knocked me off my feet. “I don’t know if I deserve it.”
As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I grimace and continue before Dr. Mike reminds me it’s not a matter of deserving someone’s love. That I can’t earn love from someone who doesn’t want to give it, and I shouldn’t push people away who want to love me because I don’t feel worthy. “You don’t have to say it. I know.”
He chuckles at that. “Alright. If you were to make an educated guess at why she’s been less reticent to let you back in than you anticipated, what would that be?”
For the millionth time while working with him, I wish he’d tell me what he thinks is going on. But I know that’s not the point of this, even if I hate it.
I swallow hard. “Because her omega likes my alpha?”
Dr. Mike hums thoughtfully, even though it was an avoidant answer. “Could be part of it, sure. What else?”
I look down at my hands in my lap, where I’ve started stress-picking my cuticles. I shove them under my legs so I’ll stop before they turn into a bloody mess. “Because I’m being open about my emotions. Because I’m letting her in. Because I’m trying.“
“Yes, you are. I know you’re loath to do it, but I want you to take some time each day this week to step back and think about a moment where you put in the effort to be open about your emotions, either to yourself or someone else, and acknowledge it. Say it out loud. Give yourself a moment to be proud.”
“You’re right, I definitely hate that idea,” I say with a groan. “But I’ll try it out.”
“Good. Like other things, the discomfort will fade the more you do it.” Dr. Mike shifts forward in his chair. “Now, tell me about Jackson.”
An immediate flush washes over my face. Dr. Mike is an amazing, very progressive alpha, but he’s straight as an arrow. I don’t know what wisdom he’s going to impart about my panic that I’ll look at Jackson the wrong way during the heat, he’ll know that I want him, and he’ll be disgusted and never want to talk to me again.
“Well, with Camille’s heat coming up, we’re going to be in close, intimate proximity with each other again. And that’sbeen getting increasingly…”Don’t say hard. “Difficult to navigate.”
