Page 49 of Enthrall Climax
“Enlighten me, Shay.”
The elevators doors opened and he stormed out.
I followed. “You’re going with the Dom I choose and that’s the end of it.”
He made it to the Lamborghini and spun around. “You don’t get to make that decision.”
“I admit to being controlling. That’s nothing new, Shay.” I rested my hand on his shoulder. “But I’m here for you.”
He shoved my hand away.
“You want me to fire you. Is that it?”
He stood there looking back at me with pain in his gaze.
“Talk to me.”
“I was right there—” He gestured to the club elevator. “And you had to interfere.”
“You’re making vast inroads into the frontier of assholes,” I retorted. “Some might say you’re the Neil Armstrong of asinine exploration.”
He was staring at me with a mixture of trepidation and confusion. It was the same look he’d given me when I’d first met him.
“I know you want to fuck me, Shay. You’re going to have to get over it.”
“Are you getting off on taunting me?” He looked astonished. “No, wait, this is that thing you do. You push my buttons until I’m about to implode and then you get me to admit what’s really wrong.”
“So…what’s wrong, Shay,” I whispered.
“No, you don’t get to manipulate me with your psych shit.”
“You love my psych shit.” I smiled fondly at him to break the tension.
“You had the chance to get rid of me when I asked months ago.” He covered his face with his hands again. “Why do you do this?”
“Then go, Shay, if you’re that unhappy.” I’d always fought for our friendship, but now it seemed selfish.
“You’re so smart, and yet you can’t see what’s right in front of you.”
“Evidently, I need help here.”
“I want my first session to be with you, Cam.”
Because what Shay had once endured was too painful and still too raw. He wasn’t ready to spill his life story.
“I’m…” He couldn’t find the words.
I reached out and squeezed his shoulder. “I get it.”
“If you refuse me I’m out of your life.”
“Don’t say that.” I shook my head with a smile. “You’re my fencing partner. I trust you more than anyone. What if I double your salary?”
“You like to dig the pain out of your subjects,” he confessed.
“When I was a therapist, yes.” I had gone to extremes and had no regrets.
“I need you to dig out mine.”
