Page 71 of Dream a Little Dream

Drew leaned forward, curiosity dancing in his eyes. “Why were they scared ofyou?”

Aaron chewed on his bottom lip, unwilling to answer. “You’d have to ask them.”

“But they’re not here. I’m askingyou. Why do you think they were frightened of you?”

“Because of my astounding beauty.”

Drew chuckled, jotting something down, which made Aaron’s stomach churn. He glanced over at him, annoyed Drew found any humour in this. In him. His predicament. His past. And how he’d coped.Stillcoped.

“How did Rahul’s death make you feel? Honestly. There’s no judgment here. Just a chance for you to express what you need.”

“I didn’t know him.”

“There are hundreds of students laying flowers at the scene who also didn’t know him, yet they’re sharing their feelings. Why do you think they’re doing that?”

“What’s the point of laying flowers now? Maybe they should have brought him flowers when he was alive.”

“Maybe they should have. It’s a lesson for us all: love thy neighbour.”

Aaron shot him a look, and Drew held his gaze with unsettling intensity.

“A death so close to home has hit the student body hard. It’s natural to feel shaken, or want to hide, or lay flowers. It’s also perfectly natural to feel numb. To close off. To not want to think about it. There’s no right way to respond to murder.”

“Who says it’s murder?”

“You must have heard about the roses?” Drew’s eyebrows knitted together.

“What roses?”

“The rose vines wrapped around his neck.” Drew doodled absently on his pad.

Aaron gulped, throat dry. He leaned back in the chair, desperately counting the stains on the ceiling to calm his racing heart.

“Are you close to Dr Lyons?” Drew’s voice sliced through the fog of Aaron’s thoughts.

Why were these questions hitting so close to home today?

“What? No.” Aaron blinked, willing the tears to stay away. They were angry tears. Tears of resentment. Not sadness. Notvulnerability. “Why?”

“He’s been asking for the notes on our sessions.”

Aaron snapped back to look at him, the tension in his body coiling tighter. “That usual?”

“No. But he is a trained psychologist. Perhaps he’s concerned for one of his students.”

“Concerned? More likeobsessed.” He smirked, then shook his head. “Will you give them to him?”

“Not unless you give me permission.”

“I don’t.”

“Then, anything you say about him, about anything, remains in this room. How do you feel about Dr Lyons? About him asking for these notes? Asking about you?”

Aaron clenched his jaw, heat rising in his chest, and the need to deflect, to push back, was instinctual. But Drew was patient.Toopatient. He waited, probing for a crack in Aaron’s defences. Not in the same way Kenny had. This was way more professional than yanking off his top and tweaking his nipple piercing.

Because it made himthink. Howdidhe feel about Kenny? Fucking livid. That’s how he felt. Was he close to him? No, he wasn’t closeenough. Did he want to get closer? Hell to the fuckingyes. Or was it because he liked the way Kenny made himfeel? Seen yet controlled? A part of him enjoyed the way Kenny was obsessed with figuring him out, like he was some kind of puzzle. But another part of him, the part he hated, liked the power he held over Kenny. He revelled in watching Kenny struggle with his attraction and guilt.

But when he’d fled his house the other day, it wasn’t just the gut-wrenching suffocation he endured at Kenny having answered Heather’s call as he’d stood right there in front of him, exposed and vulnerable. No, that would mean hefeltsomething. He’d wanted to punish Kenny for tearing open that wound. The one that reminded him of how easy he was to shut out. With one simple gesture, Kenny had closed the door, locking Aaron away from being part of something that everyone else had. From laying himself bare.

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