Page 132 of Fix You

She nodded. “But I’m not dating them.”

“Maeve–”

She held her hand up. If this goes the way I think it will, how do I know you won’t react the same way with me if I anger you?”

Scowling, I replied, “Because I would never lay a hand on a fucking woman.”

“I know you wouldn’t hit me. I’m just talking about your temper.”

Whirling away from her, I turned my gaze back to the windows. My chest rose and fell in harsh breaths. I didn’t like feeling so raw in front of her. I was the one who was supposed to be strong for her. I didn’t need any deficits that made me weak.

“You could talk to Dr. Leighton,” she suggested.

My skin grew tight, shrinking over my bones and muscles. In my world, men who needed therapy were weak. How could I be strong and lead my men if I was a weakling? If word got out, I’d be ruined.

“It’s not such a bad thing to share what’s bothering you,” Maeve said softly.

“How the fuck can I explain my life to a shrink without incriminating myself?”

“You can talk about your anger without telling her everything. Lots of men have anger issues.”

Throwing a glance over my shoulder, I said, “Want me to pretend to be a trash collector like Tony Soprano.”

“Who is that?”

A chuckle burst from my lips at the absurdity of the question in such a serious moment. “He was a TV mobster who went to therapy and lied about who he really was.”

“Oh,” she murmured. After hitching the towel tighter against her, Maeve said, “Regardless of what you say or don’t say, I still think it would be a good idea.”

Staring into her eyes, I thought about the altercation with Callum earlier. I thought about the sacrifices she was making. “This Dr. Leighton,” I began.

“Yes?”

“I would want her to sign an NDA.”

She nodded. “She did with me.”

“Does she know who you are?”

“In this day and age, how could she not? One google search of my name, and you know everything, even what is speculated.”

As I drew her against me, I asked, “You don’t think it would be a conflict of interest for me to talk to your therapist.”

“Why?”

“Maybe she’ll have a negative view of me if we have a fight and you blame me.”

The corners of her lips quirked. “Of course she would know I was in the right and you were in the wrong.”

Chuckling, I replied, “Easy now.”

“If you want, I can have her recommend someone.”

With a grimace, I replied, “The more I think about it, the more I’d like an Italian man.”

“I didn’t think you’d be that sexist.”

“It’s more about a man understanding male emotions. And the Italian part of him would get it even more.”

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