Chapter 4- Sounding Board

Happy to see that like yesterday, he had something to listen to- I set to my task with burning zeal, showing the lunges, long arm crunches and planks just what Brianna Whitlock is made of.

I knew my workout fury was fired up by more than just the simple desire to do well.

My feelings were out of control this morning; raw and intense after both the erotic dream that robbed me of my beauty sleep, as well as the email from my mother.

Somewhere in the middle of my second set, Luca removed the buds from his ears, sat back and started watching me.

For a second there, I became self conscious. But immediately pushed all other non-mentor related thoughts away.

He occasionally critiqued and offered suggestions for new tactics. And I enthusiastically tried them out, without any witty quips.

"Taking it out in practice is one way to go about it," he said thoughtfully. "But talking is usually a better option."

"Wish I knew what you're talking about," I said making another lunge forward.

"For starters, you've barely said three words this morning. And not once did I hear you complain about the day's task," he pointed out.

"You want me to complain?"

He chuckled at the ridiculous question.

"No. But I can tell something's bothering you."

"Just had a slow start, that's all." I said. Which wasn't a straight up lie, but also definitely not the truth.

He was silent for a few seconds. Then tapped on a floor spot next to him invitingly, "I could be your sounding board if you like."

Fighting was futile here. So with a heavy sigh, I joined him in hopes of getting this shrink act of his out of the way as soon as possible.

As we sat on the floor side by side; I found myself stealing glances at him in the mirror in front of us, when I thought he wasn't looking. Like before today, I hadn't realized how deep his blue eyes were. Black hair complimented the beautiful features of his face. Going lower with my stolen glances,my eyes wandered to his full lips. With every detail that was being memorized in my mind, I found myself back in the wee hours of the morning when our lips had actually met in a dream.

"So, what's got you in that terrible headspace?" he asked interrupting my thoughts on how sensually carved his bottom lip was. I have stop this. I thought to myself as I snapped back to reality.

"I don't like it when people don't believe me." I said bluntly, hoping to distract him.

"You were hoping that I'd buy your slow start story?" He asked in a tone that implied how ridiculous he found that lie to be.

"Why not?" I shrugged. "I mean, receiving an email from my mother actually equals a slow start in my books."

"Isn't that supposed to be a good thing?"

"I hate her," I said and was immediately astonished at just how much vernom those three words held.

"No,you don't." He said gently.

"I do." I found it annoying that even before trying out my reason for feeling that way, he had already decided to take her side.

"Why?" He finally asked, his voice still kind.

"Because she's always put her entire life and time into her career. She's never had enough time to raise me. This place.." I waved around, "practically raised me way more than she ever did."

"Why do you think she brought you here?"

I involuntarily rolled my eyes, "to get other people to do her job for her."

"That's not true. If she brought you here, it means she saw your talent and believed this to be the best place to hone and groom your skills. And a parent doing that for her child can only mean she's attentive enough to her needs."

I didn't like the amount of sense that his words meant. It made me feel like I was just being a brat.

"Why doesn't that make me feel better?" I sighed.

"Maybe because you're having your core beliefs challenged, probably for the first time." He said,studying my reflection with amusement written over his face.

"I don't know. I just feel like we don't have an actual relationship. Every moment or conversation with her feels like trying to connect with a stranger." I expressed the rest of my frustrations without holding back, seeing that I had already gone full blown venting mode to a man I barely knew.

"Have you told her this before?"

"No." I frowned and started wondering if he thought I was supposed to.

"Why not?"

"It's easier to just pretend none of it bothers me than confronting the situation."

For what seemed like a long time, we kept our eyes fixed on one another in the mirror without really saying anything.

"Your mother isn't the enemy, and you should be able to communicate with her. Especially about things like this." He reiterated his earlier thoughts.

"She never has the time," hadn't he heard me when I told him this?

"She's made the time and the effort with the email, the least you could do is meet her halfway with that." He countered.

"I don't know," I said averting my gaze from him.

Catching me off guard, he reached over and wrapped his fingers around my wrist.

"This too isn't a solution." He said, rubbing them over an old almost already healed self induced scar.

"How did you know?" I frowned wondering how he'd uncovered the one secret that I protected the most.

During my 'injury break', I'd started sporadically cutting. I've always had a problem with letting go. I've always hoarded my emotions. I've never really known how to grant the outside world access into the walls that I built around me. I hadn't done it to kill myself though,but purely out of the need to get it out somehow. It happened during a period of my life where nothing made sense; my dreams were crumbling to the ground and on top of that I felt like I was completely alone.

And that physical outlet, the physical pain was my way of dealing with the internal pain the best way I could.

"I'm observant."

Something about the way he said that, made me feel like he was implying that he could see right through me. Like in his eyes, I was made of glass. And if that was the case, I wondered what else he had figured out about me. Could he tell how the proximity between us suddenly made my pulse quicken?

I suddenly felt like my wrist had caught fire. When he saw me staring at his hand, only then did he seem to realize that he had held on for longer than he should've.

He removed his hand,and we both looked away.

I wasn't frightened, but my heart began to pound violently. Not because he had figured out one of my biggest secrets,but due to the contact itself.

Taking one look at the clock ticking above our heads, I realized that so much time had passed. And yes, almost none of it had been spent doing what it was intended for.

Standing up, without another word, I headed to the door.

"Hey, Luca." I called out just before pulling the door open.

"Yeah?" he suddenly looked up.

"Thanks," I said.

"What for?"

"A different perspective."

He almost smiled,but didn't say anything. And that was my cue.