Chapter Thirty Eight

Aaron knew that his mouth was hanging open, his jaw slack. He truly hadn't expected her to be there, and he was surprised, pleasantly so. She looked good, happy, he eyes really were sparkling, and she was laughing at his reaction.

"I didn't know you'd be here."

She nodded, "I wanted it to be a surprise."

"It is that, I was dreading a drive out to Long beach, Friday evening in the summer, it's hell."

She grinned, "well, I am here. And to thank you, I'm making dinner. A Mediterranean chicken thing with salad, and baked potatoes...I haven't had one in years. What do you think?"

She was rambling, the only outward sign that she was nervous – he knew her tells so well, but his stomach had rumbled as she spoke. He was starving, but hadn't even realised until now, he had been more concerned about her, "sounds great...are you ok?"

Filling a glass with white wine, she slid it across the breakfast bar to him, "I have to work Monday, I can't have any more time off. So, I'm back here, to get into the swing of things...and to once again, try to make it up to you."

He held up his hand to protest, but she silenced him, "no. I am. We are not arguing over this again, ok? It's old news."

Laughing, he reached for the glass and sipped at it, "so work?"

She nodded, leaning her hip against the work surface across the kitchen from him, "I'm ready, for work. I think Doctor Vasquez has put in fourteen hours with me this week, and I am feeling great. There are things I need to work on, things only I can sort. But I'm feeling better than I have for years."

That was music to his ears, and he relaxed onto his stool as he watched her dish up dinner for them.

"You've spoken to them at the museum?" Aaron asked as he laid the dining table for dinner. She was mixing a salad and nodded before stopping, turning to him, that smile still on her face. She was definitely in a different place. "I called the Head Curator in my department, and of course Alex. He's the lead on the actual wing we're in...I don't know, he's a bit weird, anyway. They were very understanding, and glad to see me next week."

He was silent watching her, and she groaned, "I'm ok, Aaron. So, I had this bloody meltdown. It's not the first time."

He knew he couldn't argue with that, she was so different to the woman who'd scowled at him during his brother's engagement party all those months ago, that was before the last two weeks. She was strong, happy, and more healthy than he'd seen her. "Tell me about this doctor then, is she as good as the psychologist at home? Is she worth it?"

She laid down the two plates, and lowered herself into a seat, all the time her eyes on him, "she's good. I've had enough counselling to sink a ship, and if you met Doctor Fleming back in London...well, you'd see. She's so normal, so amazing, she helps you see things without telling you. It's weird, but I'd had a few before her, but never gelled, she's like a friend." She paused to chew a piece of chicken that she'd been cutting as she spoke.

"I suppose that's what a counsellor should be, a non-judgemental friend. And she is, was...I don't know. But whilst we worked out so much, there's always been one area that she wasn't a...I don't know, a specialist in sex therapy."

He felt his mouth fall open and she chuckled, "not like a couple, you know who want more orgasms or to deal with weird fetishes, more like post abuse stuff."

He wanted to grimace, somewhere in the last few days, she'd turned from an avoidant secretive and almost shy woman, into someone throwing fetishes into an over dinner conversation!

Regardless of his discomfort, she carried on, "but Anna – we're on first name terms after all we've discussed this week, well anyway, she is. She knows how I'm feeling and we've identified where things are going wrong. I have," she gave a small laugh, "I've got a plan, kind of homework. But she things I'm curable."

Again, he gulped at his nerves, the thoughts and emotions that clogged his throat, "so you're happy? You sound like it."

She was attacking her meal enthusiastically, he on the other hand seemed to have lost all his appetite. He toyed at the chicken, and picked at the salad, all the while she murmured encouraging sounds as she demolished her meal. Conversation when it happened, had turned back to the apartment at the beach. Julia so obviously loved it, and normally he'd have loved hearing her enthusiasm. But there was the is undercurrent, heavy, tense filling the room and he dreaded the next words that would leave her mouth. He liked Julia, more than that. And he couldn't deny that he'd wanted to repeat those kisses they'd shared and more. But there was all that had happened, it was all so messy, so confusing that he was learning to compartmentalise things, separate his thoughts and desires from his friendship with her, yet now, she was trying to talk to him, about the exact things, the exact thoughts that he was blocking out. He couldn't see this ending well. Then she smiled at him, and all his resistance faded. She had him wrapped around her little finger.

Filling up their glasses, Julia leaned back, plate empty, hands laced across her stomach, then smiled, "I need to ask you a favour." Immediately she grimaced, "I swore I wasn't going to ask you for anything else, but this is help really. The money...from my uncle. I want to use it as you said, set up a charity that helps people...I just need someone with experience to help me work through it."

Aaron nodded in relief, that he could do, "you got any thoughts?"

As she told him about her vision to build a safe place, maybe coastal, something, somewhere that an abusers victim could go and feel safe, get a break, feel strong. She wasn't sure she'd be able to run a charity, so she was thinking of donating a facility to an existing charity, but she had no idea where to start.

He listened, his appetite better as she pulled out a pad of paper and started to map some ideas. He had done a lot of work in the charity sector, and whilst she was looking at making this back in Britain, he had some idea of charity credentials and trustworthiness.

She opened his laptop at his instruction and shuffled to sit next to him as they started to search, surfing the web and formulating a plan of sorts. The money she had would buy a property and they worked out that it could fund itself for a long time on the inheritance alone.

It was dark when they sat back in the chairs, stiff from sitting in dining chairs all evening.

"Let's move to the sofa." Julia suggested, finally closing the laptop, "you've helped me SO much."

It had been fun to work with Aaron, he was intelligent, knowledgeable and worldly, he knew most of the answers to her questions without needing google or Wikipedia, she could only dream of being that natural at something. As she slumped onto the cushions, she watched him grab the wine bottle and glasses, dumping them on the coffee table. Coco woke up and jumped onto her lap as Aaron raised one of the large sash windows that flanked the room. It was a warm evening and the cool breeze was suddenly very welcome.

By the time he sat down she was absorbed in what he was doing, staring at him. He'd been the topic of her discussions with Anna the last two days. She'd argued with her therapist that he wasn't the solution, but she knew deep down that he was the only man that she was anywhere near trusting enough to let into this.

"You're plotting something?" He flopped beside her, watching her.

Blushing, as she always seemed to in his scrutiny, she lowered her head slightly, "not really."

Aaron lifted an eyebrow, seeing straight through her denial, so she took a deep breath. It was now or never.

"Anna made me realise that I have three lists – things I will do, things I MIGHT do, and definite noes."

He looked at her quizzically, "I'm not following."

She rolled her eyes, "we've been working through everything, my recovery..."

"Yes?"

"Sex. That's my issue, isn't it." He blushed. She'd never seen him look so awkward, and if it wasn't so serious then she'd laugh out loud. "This is what we have been discussing. I have had sex, but..."

He seemed to have recovered a little as he added, "you only like it on your terms."

She nodded, "that's right. I want that to change...but I am too scared." She reached for her bag and pulled out a handwritten list. "So, these are things I will do."

She turned the pad towards him and showed him the three items written down, kissing, grabbing and intercourse.

His head remained bowed for a moment, but when he looked up, he was flushed, anxious and uncomfortable. "Julia, this isn't going to help."

She took a deep breath, "it has to. She can't do anymore, I just have to get over this...I need your help for it."

Aaron's eyes were on her, watching her, and it was a long time before he spoke, "really? I can't see how I can help."

"Help me make my lists?"

Aaron stared at her, watched her as she met his eyes head on, no sign of the scared, terrified and avoidant woman that he'd known. She was grinning, and he would've thought that it was a façade if her eyes weren't sparkling.

"You want me to help?" He was repeating himself like an idiot, but it was easier than thinking about what she was asking.

She nodded, "is there anything else that should be on that list?"

He followed her finger to where it pointed to the list and sighed, "you're serious?"

"You're the only man I trust to do this, and Anna says it has to be a man, this is part of the therapy. She gave me a list of male therapists...they could do this..." She shuddered, "and more..."

"Therapists who'd have sex with you? Is that what you're saying?"

When she nodded, he groaned, he was not letting her have these conversations with a stranger who was taking her money for the privilege, he had to do this. He took a huge deep breath, "ok. Grabbing? What the fuck does that mean?"

Her smiled dropped, "well you know..." She motioned a wrestling move, her fists clenched.

He shook his head, "you mean being rough? Or being in control?"

She gave a nervous shrug, then he shook his head, "are you sure you're ready for this? You can barely speak the words."

Julia looked at him optimistically, "that's why I need to do this."

He sighed, "so you don't like 'grabbing', you like being in control, i.e. YOU like touching, but not being touched." She bit her lip, then gave a small nod, "so that's not grabbing, see? And intercourse, really??"

"That's what Anna called it, rather than oral or...stuff."

He took a steadying breath, her big eyes, her bitten bottom lip, it was enough to drive him insane, "Ok. So, is there anything else that's tolerable other than kissing?"

She shrugged, "I don't know. I'm usually drunk."

That tore at his heart strings, "what about when we've kissed? I've touched your face, shoulders...back. That's been ok." When she nodded, he wanted to run away, what the hell was he doing? This was crazy.

"That's ok...and when you press yourself up against me. I liked that too."

As confessions went, it was one of the hottest things he'd ever heard, and he had to move in his seat, adjust his suddenly too tight trousers. He hadn't changed since his day in the office and now he was more than uncomfortable. A breath wasn't anywhere near enough to steady his ridiculously sensitive libido. She looked so bloody innocent, yet she was saying things that were anything but.

Nodding, he reached for her pen and jotted, Non intimate touching and Hugging on the list, turning to her to say, "it's really only hugging."

She shrugged, "ok. But that's all there is though. I'm that sad."

He reached across and grabbed her hand, "that's not sad, it's bloody brave, incredibly brave. I admire you for that, ok?"

Smiling awkwardly, she looked at him, "you ready for the 'things I MIGHT do' list."

He gulped, nervously, he was going straight to hell. But instead of running away as he wanted, he nodded, "if that's what you want..."