Page 102 of Counting On You

Chapter Twenty-Six

Kaiden

Iwokeup and found no sign of Vicky. No note. Except for the heavenly scent lingering everywhere in the apartment, there’s no indication she’s even been here.

Things between us have become a little weird. I haven’t talked to her since that night on the beach. It’s been days.

It doesn’t take an idiot to figure out that she’s avoiding me.

She’s been ignoring my knocking, slipping out of the apartment as early as she can. Come night, she’s keeping her bedroom door closed. I haven’t heard the shower running even though I’m pretty sure she must have used it at some point. The only time I’m seeing her is during the group meetings, and even then she barely acknowledges me. It’s as if she’s ashamed. Or maybe she came to the conclusion she cheated on Bruce during our little trip to the beach.

But let’s be honest, what kind of man would keep someone like her out of his bed?

The loser doesn’t deserve her.

I see her with her friend, though.

The two hang out in the dining room or in the cantina, most of the time. I suspect Vicky’s hiding in her friend’s apartment.

She thinks I’m not noticing, but every time she’s talking to her friend she’s glancing my way, as if there’s a part of her she’s left behind with me. Sometimes our eyes meet, and for a split second something clicks into place—knowledge of that night. And then she looks away and acts like nothing happened.

My therapist’s polite cough draws me back. She’s sitting in front of me, her legs crossed over each other as she’s cradling a large notebook in her hand on which she’s scribbling. I realize I don’t remember her name. Something like Jill or Jane, or was it Julie? Definitely first-name basis.

The soft, classical music playing in the background sips through the perception of my brain. It’s probably supposed to calm patients, but it doesn’t quite have the same effect on me.

Nothing has these past few days.

“How long have you been an addict, Kade?” she asks when she realizes that my attention’s back on her.

“My obsession with sex started in my early twenties.”

She nods, as if she saw my answer coming. More furious scribbling before she glances up. Something in her somber expression causes alarm bells to ring in the back of my mind. “Tell me… how is your relationship with Victoria Sullivan, at the moment?”

The question throws me off. Just hearing my roommate’s name coming out of my therapist’s mouth makes me think back to the beach and how glorious it felt to be inside Vicky.

“Who?” I ask, brows raised.

“Your roommate,” the therapist clarifies with the same serious expression. “Victoria Sullivan.”

“Right. Is that her name?”

Another nod.

I tap my fingers on my thigh, signaling my impatience and boredom with her. What the hell could I possibly say without sounding guilty in one way or another?

“I’m sure she’s great, but…” I pause, looking for the right words. “I think she could do with being a little less hostile.”

“Hostile?” She raises her brow.

“Metaphorically speaking, yes. Maybe even more social.” I hold her questioning gaze. “See, we don’t hang out much. She’s withdrawn. Her nose is always stuck in a book. The few times we’ve exchanged a couple words, she’s always made her priority to mention the library not having enough books. I’m worried that the lack of reading material might, well, make her…you know…” I spin my finger near my temple to imply she might be on the verge of going cuckoo.

“I see. Well, I’ll see what I can do. Thank you for bringing this to my attention.” My therapist pushes her glasses back, eyeing me with renewed interest. “You’re making good progress here, Kade. We’re all very pleased.”

I smile at her. She has no idea.

“It’s all thanks to you, of course. I couldn’t have done it without your help,” I say sweetly.

Her face brightens. Seriously, I could play this act forever, spoon-feed it to her and she’d be buying it like all the others.

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