Page 22 of Taken Online

Then he walked toward me.

“I’m going to blindfold you,” he said evenly. “With one of your senses dulled, you may recall more.”

What the fuck?

Nope. I didn’t want this. I really, really didn’t want this. It felt too intimate. Too exposed. Too much. But I couldn’t bring myself to say that out loud. I didn’t want to lose whatever edge I thought I still had.

Any retort died in my throat the second he got close. I could smell his cologne. Something fresh and sharp and warm, like cedar and citrus and soap. Familiar, but overwhelming. My chest tightened.

“You’re seriously just going to blindfold me?” I muttered.

His hands grazed my cheek as he centered the cloth over my eyes. Darkness fell over me. And then... just him.

No sight. Just scent. Touch. The heat of him behind me as he tied the knot gently, his fingers brushing through my hair like it meant something.

I gripped the couch cushions hard enough that my nails bit in.

I knew the second he stepped back. His scent faded, leaving me with a bizarre, shaky emptiness.

“Okay, Asher,” he said softly. “Take a deep breath for me.”

I did.

“Now, tell me... what about yesterday made the task particularly difficult?”

It hit me in that moment: this man didn’t know me. He might have a degree, a license, a notebook full of psych terms, but he didn’t know me. To him, I was just another patient with a fucked-up file.

And maybe that’s all I was to him. A problem to solve. Something to diagnose, treat, and file away.

A man like him wanted a clean little ribbon wrapped around his hypothesis. So why not give him what he wanted?

“Yeah... I’m remembering now,” I said, my voice quiet but steady.

The silence that followed was thick. Like he was waiting, listening, processing.

“So... yesterday, I was with... my boyfriend.”

Which was a lie.Obviously.

I was with Kaleb, but I wasn’t about to tell my therapist that I liked getting paid to perform in front of a camera. I didn’t need him psychoanalyzing my relationships with faceless usernames. I’d already tried flirting with him and that backfired. So now? I’d play along. Play the game.

The silence stretched so long I almost reached up to remove the blindfold. But then—

“Boyfriend?” he asked.

His voice sounded different. Deeper. Rougher. Or maybe that was just the blindfold messing with my senses.

I couldn’t tell.

Chapter Six

BLAKE

Bloodrushedtomyears.

Boyfriend.

Boyfriend?

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