Page 33 of Misery and Ecstasy

“Okay.” I watch as she places her notepad into a folder before filing it away in the cabinet behind her desk. “Sorry about that. I was just finishing up some notes.”

Offering her a tight smile, I run my hand through my hair before tapping my feet on the ground beneath me.

Walking around to the front of her desk, she drops into the chair across from me. She’s avoiding my eyes, and I have to say I’m as equally upset as I am relieved by it.

“Draven…” she says my name before finally looking at me.

The second our eyes meet, there’s no denying the spark that passes between them.

Oh, fuck.

I gulp, trying to shove my lust down. The desire I feel to get up, cross the room, wrap her hair around my fist, and pin her to the chair with my kiss is strong.

Really fucking strong.

But I pull on every last restraint I have in me to keep myself seated.

I worry she can see or sense my struggle, but she continues talking as though I’m not sitting here writhing in pain.

“I have to apologize for my line of questioning yesterday. I shouldn’t have pushed you the way I did. I promise, it won’t happen again, and I want to thank you for giving me another chance.”

I cross my leg over my knee to put a barrier between her stare and my crotch. I can feel every ounce of restraint I have failing me.

I think back to yesterday. The questioning she’s referring to about why I don’t want a significant other. The concern and disappointment so blatantly written on her face.

Before I can stop myself, the words start falling from my tongue.

“Whywereyou so irritated? I didn’t realize my personal life affected you so much.”

Catching her off guard, her jaw drops slightly, leaving her mouth agape with shock.

“I-um. It … it doesn’t. As I said, I regret my actions, and you can be reassured it won’t happen again.”

She pins me with a stare and a warning to kill my curiosity as well as my own line of questioning.

Which I do, but not without a wicked, knowing smile that tells her I’m not stupid. That I may have caught on to the reason for her behavior.

But this smile is also a weapon I use to camouflage my own desire for her.

“All right, then. What should we talk about today, Doc?”

Spreading my arm out across the back of the couch, I cock my eyebrow and watch her squirm as she tries to think of where to begin.

I don’t expect the answer she gives me.

“You tell me, Draven.” Now she’s the one to relax back into her chair. “Let’s approach your therapy a little differently. What’s on your mind today? What are you feeling?”

Lust. Unworthiness. Fear. Pain.

“I don’t really work that way, Doc.”

I can’t bring myself to just blurt out my feelings.

“Oh, come on. It’s easy. Just say the first thing that pops into your mind. Is it happiness? Confusion? Guilt? Fear?”

“Fear,” I echo, unable to stop the word from hurling itself from my mouth.

My heart rate elevates with my unwanted admission.

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