Automatically, I checked my calendar. “Hi. We don’t have a session until the end of the week—Thursday, at one thirty. Am I right?”
“Yes, but I’m afraid I have to reschedule. Would you have any other time free this week?”
“Now?” I joked.
“I’m free if you are,” she deadpanned. “We can do a video conference if you want.”
“Even better.”
“All right. Give me a minute, and I’ll send you a link.”
I hung up and closed the files on my computer. The link popped up, and I clicked it. Dr. Sharpe’s face appeared.
“Hello, again, Bailey.”
“Hi.”
“How was your weekend?”
I thought about it and decided to tell her about Keston.
“It was good. I met a guy, and we hooked up.” I had no qualms getting into my sex life with her. I wasn’t a monk, and she wanted my truth, warts and all.
“Oh? Where did you meet him—an app, club?”
“At a club, but it turns out he’s the brother of an acquaintance.”
Her lips curved in a smile. “So you’ll be seeing him again?”
I thought about waking up alone, to a cold bed, with no note or text. “Honestly, I’m not sure. He left, and I haven’t heard from him.”
She set her pen on the desk. “We’ve talked about that. You have to stop waiting for other people to make your happiness happen. Your joy is dependent on you. If you want to see him again, you can make the first move.”
With another guy, maybe, but Keston was a prickly son of a bitch. “This guy—Keston—he’s different. A loner. He and his brother were given up as kids to foster care. Neither knew of the other until they were grown.”
“Hmm.” Her brows drew together. “That’s pretty unusual. They like to keep siblings together.”
“I know, but from what I heard, the boys were born four years apart, and his brother was given up first. They had no chance to be adopted together. I don’t know much beyond that. Anyway, he’s not much of a talker.”
“Do you like him? If you want to see him again, don’t let his behavior stop you. Take charge. You never know—maybe he also thinks you only want something casual, and he could be afraid to take that step.”
Keston afraid? Unlikely. “He’s pretty blunt. I doubt he’s afraid of anything.”
“Often the people who are the quietest or most closed off are the ones with the most fear. They know that if they reveal one scar, more wait in the wings. Like you were.”
I winced. “I’ve told you everything. My father, mother…all the random guys.” I spread my arms wide. “That’s me. The real Bailey.”
“Do you really think that? Do you only associate yourself with the trauma in your life?”
Sweat broke out on my brow. And I laughed although it was uneasy. “The guys aren’t traumatic. They’re tons of fun.”
Her gaze was piercing, and it reached out to me even through a computer screen. “I have no doubt they are, yet you’re alone. Still searching. For what?”
“I don’t know, all right?” I threw up my hands.
“I think you do.” Her calmness was irritating.
“Isn’t that what I pay you for?” I snapped, and when she didn’t respond, I sighed out loud. “Sorry. That was rude. I-I guess, I’m hoping I’ll meet someone who’ll want to see me again, even if it doesn’t lead to sex. Someone who’ll care about me. Maybe fall in love with me because I’m a nice guy.”
