Page 40 of Psychopath

“Only eating them.” Quinn shook his head. “What kind of question was that?”

“Saying or doing something outrageous acts as a human reset.”

“Explain?”

“I took my T-shirt off—”

“To get answers, you said.”

Zane grinned. “And it reset you from your psychologist seriousness. You didn’t know where to look or what to do, and it showed me that underneath all this, you’re quite sweet and innocent, and I like that.”

Quinn clutched his head. “And the vegetable question?”

“It reset you from our serious conversation. Made you laugh. You look nice when you laugh.”

“You’ve already said that. Multiple times now.”

“Well, it needs saying.” Zane drummed his fingers on the table. “I like to shock people. It resets the mood and gets an honest reaction. You, on the other hand, ask subtle questions, building up to what you want to know. Sometimes my way will give you a real answer and much faster…”

Quinn glanced at his notes, to the question they were heading towards, then he lifted his head hesitantly. “Are you a sadist?”

“No.” Zane held up his hands. “I know what’s been written about me. I know some of my ex-lovers jumped on my more adventurous side to sell stories to make money, and a few have claimed they had lucky escapes, but no. Nothing I did was without consent, and I was always very considerate of my lovers. I didn’t hurt them. As I told you earlier, I prefer to give pleasure rather than receive it. My lovers come first, literally.”

Quinn snorted softly, trying to jot down all Zane had said.

“Remember what I said earlier.”

Quinn tapped at the sheet of paper. “I would’ve written it down.”

“Before the questions. I told you not to let your ex make you feel any worse.”

“Oh. That.”

Zane nodded. “That.”

Quinn stiffened at the hand suddenly on top of his. He held his breath.

All of the participants had been told not to touch. They’d be removed from the study immediately if they did, but Zane had put his hand over Quinn’s on the table, pinning it beneath his. He slid his hand down, dragging his thumb over the scratch marks.

“What happened?”

It took a moment for Quinn to remember. “My cat.”

“He seems aggressive.”

“He can be.” Quinn snorted. “All’s fair in love and war.”

Zane frowned, squeezed, then let go.

He got to his feet. “See you next week, Doctor Quinn.”

“It’s Quinn,” he rasped.

Zane tucked his chair beneath the table, shot Quinn a smile, then left.

Quinn exhaled and glanced at the camera in the corner. It would’ve recorded the moment, and Quinn could use it as a reason to remove Zane—he’d broken a rule after all—but he didn’t.

He didn’t want to remove Zane Black.

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