“Good thing I don’t listen.”
Her eyes drift up. Annoyance and something else she tries to bury that I can’t put my finger on.
“You can’t just show up unannounced.”
Her lips press together and I remember how tight her face got when she was on the cusp of an orgasm.
“Yet I’m here.”
“Where’s Jenna?”
“She was filling the bowl of candy. I slipped by,” I joke. There’s no sense throwing Jenna under the bus. I have a feeling I’m going to need her.
I close the inside door of her office. Now it’s just us, no one to overhear.
“You don’t need a session.”
“I do.”
“No you don’t. This isn’t how it works Parker,” she asserts, exhaling a sharp breath while pushing her glasses up and rubbing her eyes.
“Then how does it work?” I ask. “Because from where I’m standing, you ran.”
“I didn’t run.”
I thread my fingers through my hair trying to figure thiswoman out. “You’re running from me like your life depends on it.”
“I have work to do.”
“You’re avoiding me, right when we… we?—”
“I’m setting boundaries,” she snaps.
I take another step closer and sit on the edge of her white distressed desk. “Call it whatever you want. You’re hiding from your feelings. I thoughtshrinkswould know better.”
“I’m not a shrink or a doctor.” She closes her laptop and moves her fingers in circles over her temples.
I reach for her hands and at first she’s tense then lets her hands relax into mine. “You can’t go from enjoying every minute of our time together to somehow thinking it’s wrong.”
She stills, just for a second. The hush of the empty office stretches between us.
“It’s wrong. You were my client.”
“I’mstillyour client.”
“No, you’re not. It’s unethical.”
My eyebrows draw together as I shake my head. “I am your client. I’m the man you slept with two days ago. The man that made you come. The man you laughed with. The man you had faith in.”
I stand and come around the desk and crouch beside her. We’re eye to eye when I take her glasses off, and cup her face in my hands. “Trust. Isn’t that your magic word?”
She just stares, her eyes holding a film of water.
“Tell me what’s really wrong?” I ask, knowing there’s more to her story than she’s trusting me with.
“I’m fine.” She looks away but I keep my hands steady on her face.
“You’re not fine.”
