I reach over and place my hand on his thigh, firm enough that he finally turns to me.
“You said it yourself. She’s perfect. Not a resentful bone in her little body.”
Someone honks behind us, and Preston eases the car forward. I punch the psychologist’s address into the car’s GPS, and read him the messages Zaha sent while he drives. He added me to a group chat with her, but I removed myself from it right away. This new chapter is his to write.
Something else he did got me beaming, though. He didn’t use our little escapade as an excuse to skip therapy. I wouldn’t have let him, but still. He didn’t dodge it, didn’t put up an argument. He prioritized the right thing.
I pretty much stalked the clinic online, so I know the waiting area is massive. No awkward cluster of strangers breathing the same recycled air. “Go sit,” I tell him when we arrive. “I’ll check you in.”
He scoffs. “You actually used to babysit that billionaire, didn’t you? If you tell me you wiped Liam’s ass, I’ll believe it.” He scrunches his face. “But please don’t.”
Still pretending he’s annoyed, he spins toward the receptionist ahead of me, voice suddenly sugary sweet. “Good morninnng…” He reads her badge. “Nicole. I’m Preston Jett. I’ve got a 9:30 appointment with Dr. Elise Beck.”
“Hi, Dr. Jett. Please have a seat, and I’ll let her know you’ve arrived. She’ll be out to get you shortly.” Wow, she’s good at her job. It’s as if she’s already familiar with him.
“Thank you.”
I spot the doctor’s name on one of the doors and claim the armchair farthest away. Pres drops into the one next tomine. I glance his way. “Are you sure you don’t want me to wait at a cafe or something?”
“If you’re still hungry. Or if you want fancier coffee.” He nods toward a machine I wouldn’t dare try to operate.
He’s too calm. Too steady. His ease only winds me tighter.
“I’m just trying to give you space. A bigger sense of privacy.”
That annoying, know-it-all, unfairly handsome smile stretches across his face. “Did I ask for it?”
“No, but?—”
“Then relax, Miss Thorne. I’d rather have you near me whenever I get the chance.”
“Honestly, and with all due respect, fuck you and your words, Preston Jett,” I whisper-cuss at the man.
The sound that rumbles out of him when he throws his head back nearly gives me a heart attack. I jolt up, then drop right back down, clinging to the armrests like gravity itself just told me to behave.
“Is that your new mantra? It’s kind of catchy,” he asks.
I’ve never seen him like this. Never heard him laugh that freely.
Does my pussy have magical properties?
Because if eating me out is what puts him in this mood, I will happily volunteer as tribute. It’s my civic duty. I’m a public servant now. For the greater good.
I’m still speechless by the time the receptionist calls his name. Preston squeezes my thigh, leans close, and says, “With all due respect, Miss Thorne, I’ll be fucking you and finding out what words come out of that pretty mouth in about fifty minutes.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
preston
I wasn’tsurprised when Mia booked Dr. Beck for me. I did the same research and found the same result: Beck is the best at what she does.
No one knows I’ve been doing therapy, and I wanted to give Mia this win, so I didn’t tell her. Instead, I told Beck and her team. Then I cancelled my next appointment and pretended this was my first. Following Mia’s plan to a T.
I like it here. The room’s always quiet and warm. Honest, too. No fake plants, no inspirational quotes on the wall. Just a chair I hate and a woman who sees too much.
Dr. Beck greets me with that unnervingly calm voice of hers. “How are you doing today, Preston? Have you worked on the guilt this week? Done the exercises?”
As per our weekly routine, I exhale slowly through my nose. She calls it grounding. I call it surviving the first ten seconds.
