Page 15 of Hypnotized By Love

Him exposing that truth to the light made me want to scurry away and hide. The only way out of this was to pretend like his words didn’t affect me. “Studying an opponent is not ‘watching them.’”

He leaned forward again, and it took everything I had not to scoot back six feet. I was not going to show him any weakness that he could exploit. “What did you like watching me do?”

It sounded like an innocent question, but the way he asked it had images surging through my head like a memory tsunami. Even when I’d loathed him the most, I hadn’t been able to keep my eyes off him. The way his body moved when he played a game of volleyball, the sound of his voice as he drove home a point during a debate, finding him in the library, where he’d be reading a book, lounging in a chair, taking up all the space around him.

I’d even been disgustingly fascinated by watching him eat. The appetite he had, the way he seemed to enjoy everything put in front of him. How he was with his friends, the times he would laugh so hard that his entire body shook.

Desperately aching over the fact that I was the one who used to make him laugh that way and missing it more than anything.

There was something seriously wrong with me.

“I’ve been rethinking all of my life choices,” he announced, interrupting my thoughts. “Reevaluating what led me here.”

“Sitting in front of your worst enemy, asking her to hypnotize you?”

Another wry smile. “That’s definitely on the list.”

His statement made me think of yesterday, and how in the short time I’d become reacquainted with him, all of his choices seemed to be negative. “Maybe what you need is to do things differently. Instead of always saying no to people, try saying yes. That’s what I could focus on in our session.”

“Turning me into a yes-man? Sure. Let’s do that.” There was no conviction behind his words, and I knew that his attitude was most likely going to affect this outcome.

“You doubting the entire process and what we’re going to work on will ensure that it will fail, just so you know. When you talked about whether or not people could be hypnotized, there is a small percentage who can’t be, and it’s mostly due to doubt. Something like five to twenty percent of people are highly suggestible and easily hypnotized, and everybody else fills in the rest of the curve.”

“So you think it won’t work on me?”

“The main focus of hypnotism is to get you to shift your perspective, and it comes down to two things. Consent and belief.”

He blinked quickly at me. “So I have to believe in you like you’re Santa Claus?”

Not able to help myself, I rolled my eyes. He really was bringing out my worst teenage self. “Believe in the process, not me. Besides, I’m not going to be bringing you any presents.”

He gave me a sly smile. “But you are concerned with whether or not I’ve been naughty or nice.”

If I kept rolling my eyes like this, they were going to eject from my skull. “I think we both know which list you belong on.”

“Yes. One hundred percent nice,” he announced.

I couldn’t help myself. I laughed. Not a joyful, you’re-so-funny laugh but one of pure shock that he’d said something so profoundly untrue.

“Now you’re the one who doesn’t seem to believe me,” he said.

“You’re right. I do not believe that lie you just told.”

He smiled at me. “Maybe a bit naughty. But I’ve found that most women tend to enjoy that.”

I’d enjoy it,that annoying part of me offered, and I had to again remind myself that we hated him. “I can do hypnosis for that, too. To make you less of a womanizer.”

“Ah, so you’re going to save me from myself. I get why you do this. You always did like rescuing people.”

Now it was my turn to frown. “That’s not true.”

“It is. You were the one who found the lonely kids at school and sat with them at lunch and invited them to hang out with us. Sierra was the same way. You were always tutoring people and spending extra time practicing with your teammates.”

That he thought nice things about me was, again, disconcerting and unsettling.

Almost like he was trying to throw me off balance. Was he attempting to get me to mess up so that he could write an article proving that I was a fake? Distract me so that I’d confess this was all made up?

Then, as if he were trying to prove my suspicion, he said, “As for the other part of what I need for this to work, I may not be able to give you my belief, but you’ll always have my full consent. For anything you’d like.”

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