No Kissing Allowed

Chapter 21: Hyperphantasia

Chapter 21: Hyperphantasia

Cora was so angry with herself she could have screamed. Her overactive brain had struck again. A blessing when it came to calculus. A curse when it came to living life.

She had always been this way, like a violin with all her strings tuned to slightly different frequencies than the standard notes. Some strings a bit too taut, like her hypersensitivity to the sound of chewing gum or the tactile sensation of moisture on her face. Crying irritated her on a visceral level. She clutched the crumpled washcloth in her hands and blotted impatiently every time more tears threatened to overflow.

And yet other strings were under-tightened. Here in this pitch black room, Cora's weak sense of proprioception had abandoned her yet again. She'd enjoyed the floating sensation last night, but the fearsome flashback had left her reeling and unsettled, and she was grateful for Jamie's solid presence at her back.

He spooned her from behind and wrapped his arms around her, tucking them inside the hem of the tuxedo jacket she still wore. His biceps bracketed her ribcage, and his forearms formed a rigid bar in front of her waist. Safe and secure. No risk of losing her bearings and falling off the bed.

She folded her own forearms against his gratefully and concentrated on the sensation of his smooth skin against her shoulder blades. This wasn't what she had meant when she set out for skin-to-skin contact tonight, but it felt lovely in its own way to be enveloped by someone else's skin besides her own. She absorbed the sensation, drinking him in through her pores.

Jamie was silent for a time, rendered speechless by the story she'd finished telling him. It was amazing he hadn't already extricated himself from this clench in which they found themselves. She'd half-expected him to let go the moment he heard the ugly truth. After all, it was one thing to console a grieving widow, quite another to give comfort to the woman who had caused the poor guy's death.

You didn't cause it, Cora told herself firmly. She closed her eyes and pulled up a mental image of her therapist sitting in his office, handing her a familiar box of tissues, and all the words he would have offered along with it. Intentions matter. Accidents happen. Sometimes there's no reason. Sometimes no one is to blame.

Cora wanted to believe all that, but she wasn't sure she did. The truth was, she'd never told a soul about what happened in the car before the crash because she'd always feared the judgment that would follow.

She held her breath now and waited for Jamie to render his verdict.

"That's a hell of a weight to carry," he said at last. He left it at that, and his arms squeezed gently to punctuate his words.

Cora let out a long breath. "Just the truth."

"But why?" he asked. "Why did you break it off?"

"I didn't love him."

"Then why did you get engaged?"

She sighed. "I loved him, and then I didn't. The physical attraction went away."

Her brain had ruined that relationship too, Cora thought to herself, just like it ruined every relationship she'd ever been in.

Apparently, it even ruined one night stands.

Cora pursed her lips. That was all she had wanted from tonight. As easily as her oversensitive nerve endings could be irritated, they were also capable of intense pleasure given the proper stimulation. Feather light caresses in some places, deep pressure in others. She had a feeling Jamie would find the right notes to play. He had an instinct for how to touch her—and an extensive repertoire of past experience if she had to venture a guess.