Just like us.
My entire body lights up.
I flip it again, staring at the sand, wondering how many times Red's watched it fall since Monday.
He clears his throat behind me. "Blue. You're early."
"I know." I bounce once on my toes, barely containing the happiness bursting out of me. "You kept it."
He glances behind me at the hourglass, his jaw tightening. "We should talk about it."
"Why?"
"It's not appropriate to send me gifts."
I laugh. "Don't be silly. Besides, I broke yours, remember?"
He doesn't say anything or move. Concern fills his gaze.
My face falls, and my heart drops. "You don't like it?"
"I didn't say that."
I tilt my head. "Then what's the problem?"
"Patients shouldn't get their therapists' gifts. It's a boundary?—"
I laugh, cutting him off.
His eyes flare with irritation.
"Wow," I breathlessly gush, grabbing the desk, then sitting in his chair.
That was hot.
Maybe he'll take me with that look in his eyes.
Yes. I'll irritate him before he slides inside me for the first time.
"Blue. Are you okay?" he questions, rushing to my side.
I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. My pulse beats too wildly to speak.
"Blue?" he frets, sitting on the desk.
I slowly meet his eyes with so much energy coursing through me, I can barely breathe.
He tilts his head and puts his hand on my shoulder.
Tingles zip down my spine, racing to my core. I tremble.
"Blue, have you been sleeping?" he asks.
I grip his desk, inhale deeply, and turn toward him slowly, smiling. "I've been working."
"That's not what I asked."
"I wanted to make something perfect for you," I explain.
