The water gleams off the dark blue marble, the slivers of gold veins sparkling from the light that filters in from the skylight above me.
Like the rest of my house, this place was built with ample lighting, and everything sparkles when the sun hits it just right. I get into the city around noon. One hour to kill until therapy.
My stomach twists with anxiety. I’ve never wanted to cancel an appointment so badly in my life.
I stop at a little cafe for coffee and a donut—pink with extra sprinkles, which makes me think of Mack and how he gave me shit over my sprinkle obsession.
So I buy a box of donuts and an iced coffee before I head over to Sharks.
My heart races the entire walk through the doors. I check in at the front desk and head to Jordan’s therapy room, thinking about turning around the whole way there. I suck in a deep breath as I knock on the door. It opens slowly, and I step in.
“Hey,” I say calmly, not sure how his mood will be.
Mack says nothing as he stares at me, his jaw tense.
“I, uh… iced coffee? Donut?” I shove both at him.
He carefully takes the coffee and the box and sets them down on his desk.
“Sit.” His voice is dark and firm. It makes me blink a few times. “I said sit down, Alex.” The anger in his voice is not missed.
“Okay.” That dark part of my brain comes online, but I try to shove it away.
I sit in the chair, expecting him to do the same, but he doesn’t. He stands tall, taking two steps forward and pinning me to the chair with just his gaze.
I shrink in the seat, unable to help the way my body reacts.
For the flash of a second, he looks like someone else.
Someone who wants to hurt me. Someone with deep blue eyes, vast like the ocean. Empty and dark. I tense up.
“You are going to keep your mouth shut,” he says. I open my mouth to protest and he purses his lips, glaring at me. “That means I talk, you listen. Got it?”
My shoulders loosen but I cannot look away. My brain is doing that weird short circuit thing where I can’t figure out how to respond.
I nod, because I’ve suddenly forgotten how to speak.
“Good.”
Every nerve in my body stands at attention with that word, hoping for the next part. Hoping for him to finish it.Just say it, Jordan. Tell me I’m a good boy.
I’ve never felt so affected by two words in my fucking life. I can’t imagine how my body would react if he were to speak those two words to me.
“If you keep up this shit, you’re going to fuck up your knee so badly you’ll never recover. Do you understand that?”
His words hit me hard, but there’s something underneath the anger in his tone.
Concern.
Of course he’s concerned. This is his job.
I break his gaze as the vicious voice in my head rears its wickedness.
“Look at me.”
I obey his command without question. Like instinct.
He’s quiet for a moment, and I see something shift in his gaze. His eyes darken and he bites his lip before closing his eyes and letting out a deep sigh.
