“It’s nothing, I’m fine. Chief sent me to see one a couple months ago, it’s nothing to worry about.”
“And now he’s sleeping with her,” Carter snaps with a smirk.
“I’m not sleeping with my therapist.” Technically I’m not lying because Hanna and I aren’t sleeping together. And, as of last week, she’s not my therapist anymore. So even if weweresleeping together, I wouldn’t be ‘sleeping with my therapist.’
“Why the fuck not? She’s cute. She’s the one we saw at the coffee shop a couple weeks back, right? Her friend is a social worker?” Coop asks.
“Yep, that’s Hanna. Her friend’s name is Rae, she’s the social worker,” I remind him.
“That’s right. I have her card. I meant to call her to come in and do a training on how to handle calls with people needing mental health support.”
“So when did you start bopping your therapist?” Carter asks again, grabbing a piece of bacon Ivy’s just placed on a paper towel on the counter.
“I’mnotsleeping with her. I already told you that.”
“She must not like you very much then,” Carter jests, shoving another piece of bacon into his mouth.
“Carter, what do you know about people liking you?” Willow pipes up. She cocks her head to one side and shakes her head at him with attitude.
“Don’t even get me started, Willie. I’m not the one dating a half-baked social media influencer who’s trying to pretend like content creation is a real job.”
“Oh, leave Bobby out of this,” she sneers, scowling at him from across the island. “Just because you don’t like him doesn’t mean he’s a bad guy.”
“I think he’s a bad guy because he treats you like shit.” He jumps off the counter and leans over the island towards her. When I look down at his hands that are holding him up, I see that his knuckles are turning white.
“Well lucky for me, you’re not my brother so it doesn’t matter what you think about my relationship, now does it?” She glares at him.
Suddenly, the inquisition into my love life has turned into something much bigger. The two of them look at one another intensely and I feel like I’ve stepped into somethingI don’t fully understand. Sensing the tension in the room, Ivy steps in.
“Alright, children, that’s enough of that. Breakfast is ready. Everyone grab a plate and let’s eat. Each of you can put an ornament on the tree if you want before we decorate it completely next week.”
Continuing to glare at one another, Carter and Willow grab a plate and fill them up with the myriad of food Ivy’s spent all morning cooking. When we all have our plates and are sitting at the table, the tension finally seems to evaporate. Once breakfast is cleaned up, we each pick out a single ornament to place on the tree. As I watch the others diligently pick out which one to place first, I do my best to keep my mind focused on the task at hand and not the semi-pornographic thoughts cluttering my mind surrounding my ex-therapist.
29
HANNA
I pull into the parking lot of his building and reread the text he sent me earlier in the day to make sure I’m in the right place. I got lucky this morning and had my final client of the day cancel at the last minute which meant I could leave the office an hour earlier. When I got home, I quickly changed into my favorite pair of overalls, a Christmas themed long-sleeved shirt I thrifted last year, and braided my hair under the navy blue hat I topped the outfit off with. After he mentioned it, I decided to wear it over tonight, finally lifting it from where I’d set it down that night after getting home from the bar. It doesn’t match my shirt at all but it still makes me smile every time I see it in my rearview mirror on the drive over.
Stepping out of my car, I shut the door behind me. In my periphery, I spot an oversized black truck a few spots over. In the back window, a firefighter insignia sticker is stuck in the bottom right corner.Firehouse 9is etched in an arch above it. Yep, definitely in the right spot.
I walk up to the door and hit the buzzer for his apartment. Within an instant, his voice comes over the intercom.
“Hello?”
“Hey, fireman, it’s me,” I call back, leaning in to speak into the system.
“Hey, you,” he says back and I can hear the smile in his voice. “I’ll be right down.”
“Okay,” I say and take a few steps away.
My feet start to pace in small circles outside the front door of the building. As I move, my brain starts to ask all the questions I’d been asking myself since the last time I saw him.Are we dating? Sure we’ve kissed a few times but does that make him my boyfriend? Are we in a relationship? Why is this still so confusing at my age? I thought people in their mid-thirties were supposed to have it figured out by now.My mind doesn’t have time to spiral for long before the striking feature of a well-built man hits me from the other side of the glass front door.
“What are you doing out here without a coat? It’s freezing,” he says, quickly stepping out of the door and slipping out of the windbreaker he always wears. Before I can object he’s swinging it around my shoulders and wrapping me up in it.
“First off, it’s not that cold. If you think it is, then you’re a wimp. Secondly”—I push up to my toes and kiss him on the cheek—“Thanks for being a gentleman and giving me your coat. Even if I’m only going to wear it for the few seconds we’re outside.”
“First off,” he mimics, pulling me close to his chest and smiling, “it’s cold out here. You’re crazy if you don’t think it is. And secondly”—this time he leans down and presses a possessive kiss to my lips—“You should wear my clothes more often. Makes me feel good seeing you in them.”
