late!” I hit Send, got up, grabbed my wallet and phone, and hurried downstairs so I wouldn’t be late. Not that Aaron would be there until eleven-thirty or so anyway, but I liked to get there early enough to grab our usual table.
At least the emails wouldn’t be bugging me anymore.
At Bold Brew, I said hello to Max, who was grading papers by the fireplace as he often did. Then I took the table Aaron and I liked by the windows. I messed around on my phone for a while, read and replied to a response to one of those emails, and waited for my husband.
About twenty minutes after I’d arrived, I caught a glimpse of movement, and when I turned, it was Aaron, striding down the sidewalk toward the coffee shop’s doors. Before he’d even reached the entrance, I released a long breath.
You’re here.
Days like today, it was impossible to concentrate on anything, mostly because there were too many things in my head vying for attention. Like those stupid emails, the most basic task seemed paralyzingly monumental—just thinking about tackling it made my brain go on lockdown. Everything was a distraction from everything else. Even the comfortable background noise of the coffee shop became a mosaic of sensory overload—instead of melting together into a more or less steady hum, it was chattering voices and scraping chairs and grinding coffee and the clanging cash drawer and tapping spoons inside ceramic mugs and—
Aaron showed up, and the whole world quieted.
Oh, the noise was still there, but it blended more, moving toward that hum of white noise.
From the start, he’d effortlessly pulled my focus from anything and everything else. It was more intense when we played—when I was in my Dom mindset and completely focused on him, his pleasure, and his safety—but even outside the bedroom, he had that effect.
Across the coffee shop, he caught my eye and gestured at the counter. I nodded, put my phone aside, and pulled my glasses down onto my nose. Maybe I wasn’t getting shit done today, but I could be with him and pretend nothing else mattered.
He brought our drinks to the table, and we caught up. When our sandwiches arrived, I barely kept myself from inhaling mine because I’d apparently forgotten that breakfast was a thing. Again. Which, now that I thought about it, explained the dull throb at my temples that I hadn’t consciously noticed until now, but was pretty sure had been following me throughout my frustrating morning. Again.
Aaron sipped his drink and watched me. “Hey, you okay? You seem a little…off.”
“Yeah, I’m okay.” I sighed, took off my glasses, and rubbed a hand over my face. “Just…one of those days when I can’t focus.” As I put my glasses back on, I met his gaze across the table. “Took me all damn morning to deal with three stupid emails that each took less than five minutes once I actually did them.”
Aaron grimaced. “Executive dysfunction?”
“I…” Fuck. I’d known for a long time that was what this was, but sometimes when it happened, the words escaped me. I’d be so caught up in the executive dysfunction that I couldn’t remember that executive dysfunction was even a thing, and I’d just flail around and wonder what the fuck was the matter with me. Sighing, I nodded. “Yeah. That’s definitely what’s been going on. It hasn’t been this bad in a long time.”
“You know, with the way things went down last night…” Aaron tilted his head. “You think this might be a little top drop too?”
I tensed. Top drop. That hadn’t even crossed my mind. “Do… Do you think so? I mean, we didn’t even play that long last night.”
“No,” he acknowledged, “but I safe-worded out, and you were basically taking care of two subs after a scene went awry.” He shrugged. “Even if that just meant ordering us food, making sure we were drinking water, and cuddling with both of us on the couch, that’s going to take its toll, you know?” With a wince, he added, “Especially since no one was exactly taking care of you.”
“Wow. Now that you…” I laughed, shaking my head. “Oh my God. I can’t believe I didn’t even think of that.”
He gave me a soft smile. “Except you’re struggling to think of much of anything. I’m not surprised.” It wasn’t a judgy comment. Aaron had known me long enough, and had been instrumental in helping me figure out all the idiosyncrasies of my mental malfunctions—sometimes I swore he