Page 17 of The Girlfriend Game
I close the door behind me and quietly walk toward the chair I normally sit down at across from her. Kendall lifts her head from her laptop with a brief and tight smile. I try to return the sentiment, but my stomach tightens because it feels like I’m in the principal’s office about to get chewed out.
“Give me a moment, Zeke. I’m just finishing up some notes.”
I clear my throat, setting the book aside at the table next to me and wave my notepad in the air. “I made some too.”
“Good. I’m glad.”
I continue to watch her surreptitiously from underneath my hooded gaze. Logically, I know I can’t think of Kendall that way.
Yes, she’s a sexy woman. And honestly, if she wasn’t my doctor and I’d met her at a bar or on the dating app, I’d immediately ask her out. I mean, I don’t know anything about her personally, or even whether she’s married or in a relationship. Our conversations are strictly on my life and issues, and she shares nothing about hers with me.
Which only increases my curiosity and does little to squelch my growing interest in Kendall, but it doesn’t matter. I could put on the charm til I’m blue in the face and nothing would come from it. There’s no pursuing anything personal outside these walls with Kendall due to the circumstances.
The minute she stands and moves from behind the laptop and her desk, my attention is drawn to her breasts. I can’t help it because she still wears the same coffee-stained pink blouse that asshole ruined for her and there’s a damp spot covering her left breast.
The wet material clings to the luscious swell of her breast, the lacy bra from underneath visible to any man’s gaze. And that’s not the worst of it. Her nipple puckers seductively as if calling out for me to get down on my knees and suck at it with fervor.
My mouth dries up like a sponge in the hot sun and I forcibly pull my attention back to her face where she frowns.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
Kendall notices the direction of my gaze and pulls at the blouse uncomfortably before flipping up her notepad to cover it from view. “Under normal circumstances I’d have a change of clothes, but everything happens to be at the dry cleaner.” She waves a hand, gesturing toward a small closet behind her desk. “And as you already know what happened, I’m a mess and didn’t have time to run home. Tanya’s heading there now before my next client. I’m sorry.”
I’m shocked and mortified that Kendall is the one who’s apologetic. It makes me feel like a horny pervert for staring at her and noticing the delicious peaks of her nipples. But damn, they are too hard not to notice.
I clear my throat. “Seriously, you have nothing to apologize for. It was that asshole’s fault for what happened to you in there.”
She nods, tilting her head to the side thoughtfully. “Yes, and in light of that, you’ll understand why I’d like to discuss the reaction you had at Beans and Brew today. Would you care to enlighten me on what happened from your perspective when you jumped in?”
A million thoughts and various responses flash through my head, but I blurt out the first one. “It was instinct.”
“Hmm,” she hums, that professional tone that bleeds both censure and curiosity circling her words. “What were you feeling that had your instinct on high alert?”
I shrug. “I guess I was angry that the guy would blame it on you when he was the one who instigated it. So my instinct was to protect you.”
“Okay, let’s talk more about that. Anger is a very relevant emotion, Zeke. But most people don’t go from zero to sixty like that just on instinct. Unless”—she taps her full lips with the end of her pen—“your psyche triggered the emotional response. Can we talk about that?”
Grumbling, I look down at my lap, avoiding her assessing gaze. “I suppose. That’s why I’m here.”
She chuckles softly and continues. “Very true. And I do see progress being made. In fact, I’m rather glad I was there to witness what happened at the shop so I understand fundamentally where we’re starting from. Would you agree that you allowed your emotions to guide your actions?”
I nod reluctantly. “Yeah, that much is obvious. I kind of snapped. But that’s not my normal MO when I’m out in the real world.”
“You mean, when you’re not playing basketball.”
“Right.” I point a finger toward her. “On the court, I use that aggression to control the ball. To gain an advantage. To beat my opponent.”
I watch her suck her bottom lip in as she seems to think this over. The glide of that lip as it disappears has my dick very confused. Very, very confused.
“Okay. Are you able to describe what in particular about that man’s behavior left you feeling that you couldn’t control the situation or your rage? Was it his tone? His hostility toward me? Or something else altogether?”
The wheels spin around and around in my head, the propelling noise getting louder in my ears until I can barely hear anything except the whir. Like the hum of an airplane engine. My vision blurs, my eyes stinging with tears.
I swipe at them with the back of my hand, noticing that it trembles with fear.
The man isn’t even here to make it happen. Even after all this time, I’m still that scared ten-year-old kid, pissing his bed out of fear that he would inevitably do something wrong. Maybe today. Or tomorrow. Or the next day. There weren’t any rules around this.
The outcome was whatever I did, I’d makehimmad.
I inhale a shaky breath and look Kendall straight in the eye, seeing the truth for the first time in my life. I consider lying and I can’t. Kendall notices too much and will see right through my lie. Straightening my shoulders, the memory of that moment dislodges from my mind, and I let it slip from my mouth.
“It was the words…what he said to you.”
Kendall seems confused, her eyebrows pinching in slightly, but quickly covers it up. “What who said? What words?”
“The jackhole in the shop said, ‘Look what you made me do.’”
