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The rest of my week didn’t go much better.

I got cussed out by Miguel, who was determined not to do his therapy, and I misplaced some paperwork, which did not impress the clinic administrator.

And to top it off, Joey was working late hours at the New Horizons rehab job to help them make their deadline, so I’d barely seen him all week.

Not that it should matter. What we had was casual, despite what my sister might say about it.

Then I walked into the family lounge on Friday to collect Carrie for a session—and found her visiting with her ex-husband, Hollywood, and their two-year-old daughter, Ruby.

Axel had returned with the cute Otis—and after a long session with Miguel, I’d set him loose to make the rounds with other patients. Carrie and Ruby were currently loving on the happy pug while Axel stood near the corner with Hollywood, quietly chatting.

“Looks like I’m breaking up a party.” I flicked my gaze up to the clock. “Carrie, we can push back your appointment by ten minutes. But that’s about the most I can do without causing scheduling problems with my other patients.”

“I understand,” she said with a sigh. “I’d love to skip it, but I also want to get better.”

“The Catch-22 of physical therapy,” I said lightly.

Hollywood pushed off the wall. “Can I talk to you about something, Dr.…”

“Kit is fine.”

“Kit,” he said. “It should only take a minute.”

“Sure, step into the hallway with me.”

I withdrew from the room, and Hollywood followed. I continued a few feet from the room so we wouldn’t be overheard. “Is this about Carrie’s therapy, because I can’t⁠—”

“It’s about Joey.”

That stopped me short. I wasn’t aware that Joey had told anyone about our situation. “Okay.”

Hollywood’s forehead furrowed. He crossed his arms over his chest, jaw tightening, then dropped them and shook out his hands. Nervous energy poured off him.

“He told you about us?” I asked.

He gave a clipped nod. “Well, no. I don’t want you to think Joey was telling me all about it. I don’t actually know much. But he was with me one night when you texted him. He rushed off to meet you at his place.”

“I see.”

“I’ve been wrestling with myself about whether to say anything. Joey wouldn’t want me to.”

“No, he wouldn’t.” I crossed my arms, hackles up. “So why are you?”

“Because Joey doesn’t always do what’s best for him,” he said. “I’m his friend, and it’s my job to look out for him. And I’m not so sure you’re good for him.”

“You don’t even know me,” I snapped, irritated.

The irony that Hollywood was looking out for Joey the way I tried to look out for Dakota was not lost on me. Was this how Felipe had felt when I talked to him?

“No, but I know the situation. I know Joey’s accident hurt your sister, and I know Joey has a lot of guilt. I don’t know anything about your relationship, not really. If you’ve forgiven Joey, if you’ve got the best of intentions for him, then I apologize for butting in. I just hope you won’t take advantage of his guilt.”

I stared at him, words trapped in my throat. I wasn’t taking advantage, was I? I’d been straight with Joey. I’d told him what to expect from me. Given him the choice to tell me to get the hell away from him.

But I’d known all along that his guilt drove him. Wasn’t that why he liked me taking charge during sex? To let go and get out of his head and just feel good for a while? I’d watched his eyes dilate every time I praised him, watched the blush of pleasure working its way up his chest. A praise kink, I’d told myself, even while knowing…

He wanted forgiveness. He wouldn’t ask for it. He didn’t think he should. But he needed it.

Every word of praise was like a single drop of water to a man lost in the desert. And I’d held back—rationing the supply—unsure I was ready to give myself permission to shower him with it, even as I craved exactly that.