I knew I needed closure, and that I would only achieve that by doing the right thing.
So, you see, the offer to move back home came with several opportunities. As well as making things right with the girl who wronged me, I had the chance to speak out publicly about being a victim of Louise and David Palmer to ensure they threw away the fucking key. I had also thought about setting up a charity to help kids of abuse, especially those who suffered through years in The Horror House.
I wondered what Storm would say when I told her. Would she understand, or blame me, as I blamed myself for not speaking out sooner?
No matter what, there was unfinished business between Storm and me, and I needed to resolve that one way or the other. After seeing her in her car earlier that day, I still didn’t know what that would look like. But I would do what I did well on the field. I would go with my gut.
Whether it was another fling or something more serious, I needed my fix; Storm back in my bed and part of my life.
At the end of the day, what’s the worst that could happen?
She could break your heart all over again.
What I had to ask myself was, would it be worth it? Bearing in mind that just seeing her face through the window of her car had me feeling more alive than I had in years.
So, the answer to that question was—hell yes!
THREE
STORM
A mixture of dread and excitement regurgitated through my stomach. As much as I wanted to put it off, I knew I had a job to do. I needed to grow back my old spine: the one that oozed resilience, and maintain a professional distance, no matter what.
Opening my laptop, I wiggled the mouse to wake the screen and then brought up my schedule for the day. Reed’s name was typed against my nine o’clock slot in red. I knew it wasn’t a good idea to accept him as a client, even on a trial basis, but professional courtesy had kicked in. ‘I was good at what I did, and if there was some way I could help him, surely, I had to try?’ I mused in reflection. Reed’s recent outbursts on the field were not like him at all. Something had to be going on, a sudden event that had pushed him over the edge. I wondered if it was connected to the news of the date of my wedding.
At least he wouldn’t be shocked to see me. Reed would know that the Doctor Summers on his appointment card was me. Nix informed me that what I did for a living came up in conversation all the time between the brothers. I suppose working for a living wasn’t really the way to describe my choice of career. I was already wealthy. I worked as a counselor because it provided a challenge in what would otherwise have been a mundane existence.
My clients (orpatients, as they were often referred to) were mostly sports professionals. They were highly strung individuals who lived life in the fast lane and, as a rule, were needy when it came to their emotional well-being. Occasionally, there were a few bum referrals, young guys who were new to the profession, who just wanted an appointment so they could check me out. And I wasn’t being vain. I heard what the sex-starved players said about me in the locker rooms. But what they failedto realize was that beauty and brains did occasionally come as a set. I remembered how hard I’d tried to hide my smarts in school.
Because guys don’t like a female who is cleverer than they are, my mother used to say.
Now I had no problem unleashing my brain, and I took no sexist shit from anyone. Well, apart from my fiancé Jasper. I didn’t rise to the bait he set anymore; I just blocked him out when he was behaving like a misogynist jerk. Like the time he’d told me he didn’t want a working wife. I’d soon told him where he could stick that suggestion.
Some of my clients looked at me like I could fulfil their wildest fantasies, others like I was a master manipulator. Then some misjudged me, believing I could hit them up with black market steroids. They only lasted the first half-hour consultation and then never came back. I wasn’t a medical doctor and so couldn’t prescribe drugs, but not everyone knew that.
In my therapy sessions, I tried to be everything they needed me to be. But what I could not be was myself. I wasn’t even sure who she was anymore, that girl who disappeared around four years ago. And that’s the problem with hiding the truth: eventually, you forget what that looks like.
As I clicked into the file linked by Reed’s name, I started to scan the notes I had been given by Lance Rogerson, his previous team’s Coach. He was the only other professional who knew Reed inside and out.
As a bold knock sounded on the door of my office, I slammed my laptop closed and pushed to my feet, suddenly flustered. If that was Reed, he was ten minutes early. I had imagined he’d be late or not turn up at all. How wrong I was. Reed had refused therapy several times when he was with the Giants. So why had he accepted the appointment with me? Because he had been forced to.
Smoothing back my hair, I squared my shoulders and walked over, my heels clicking with each step. I was wearing my usual power-dressing outfit, which consisted of a black tight pencil skirt that fell to the knee, and a pale pink blouse.
And then… fuck! I omitted a squeak, yes, an actual squeak. God clearly saw an opportunity to make me squirm as I tripped and literally face-planted.
My body sensed him before he spoke. “Teacup, is that you?” That voice I remembered so well bled in through the barrier.
Ramming my palms flat to the floor, I pushed myself back onto my knees and glanced up through a curtain of hair.
Hearing the ruckus, my first appointment of the day, opened the door.
And there he stood like every woman’s wet dream. Each muscle in my body clenched tightly simultaneously.
Reed,the gunslingerPrescott. He was called the gunslinger due to his recent aggression on the field.
“Falling for me again already?” my ex needled with a sexy smirk. I felt a twinge of annoyance at his ‘again’ comment, the arrogant dick. My insides fluttered; I was suddenly a ball of nerves. I almost leaned towards that voice, like a flower seeking the sun.
I didn’t miss how the muscles in his neck and shoulders were pulled tight. As I scanned that area, I saw a tattoo wrapped around one side and leading up towards his jawline. He hadn’t had that one years ago.
