Page 925 of One More Kiss

“She seemed sweet.”

I kept my gaze on the buildings as we passed. “She is.”

“And she’s cute.”

That had me whipping my head in his direction. “Watch it.”

“Dude, chill. You know what I mean. And obviously, you kind of like her.”

“We had sex.” I blurted out. This was probably the most I’d talked to anyone other than Tate ever.

He was quiet for a moment before he stopped at a stop sign and he turned to look at me. “Oh. Okay. So…you really like her?”

“She’s just…” I couldn’t find the words. Because they didn’t exist. Tate was a feeling. An energy. “We’re the same on the inside,” I dared to say. “Does that even make sense? Like, my whole life, I’ve been the rich kid. The decent-looking guy. The jock. But that’s not who I am, you know?”

He nodded. “I know. Why do you think I love Addy?”

I narrowed my eyes as I thought about it. I guess it was similar. I mean, Addison was still popular. Not on a grand scale. But she wasn’t an outsider. But she was not the stereotypical cheerleader who dated the jock, either. She smoked pot, listened to grunge, and didn't give a shit about just about anything. Yet she was still sweet.

“I’m going to level with you, brother.” Luca pulled into the clinic and put the truck into park. “We are lucky to have the lives we do. But that doesn’t mean it’s perfect. We all have our demons. Some are just harder to fight than others. Some we will never defeat. But that’s okay. It’s not our fault. And it’s okay to need help, you feel me?”

I nodded, wiping my nose. Then I opened the door. “Thanks for the ride, man.”

“Anytime.”

He stopped me just as I was about to close the door, though. “Hey, Danny? Don’t let her go, okay? There’s so much more to live for.”

I nodded and closed the door. He was right, but some days it was much harder than others.

The clinic was practically empty when I walked in. They ushered me back to a small office where I was asked to wait for the doctor. My heart hammered in my chest as I waited.

The door opened and closed behind me. “Mr. Soronen, how are you feeling?”

I nodded. It’d been a while since I’d been here. I tried to avoid it like the plague.

Dr. Pierson looked over some notes in front of him. “So, you were going to a therapy group for grief?” He sat in front of me on his little swivel chair in his powder-blue scrubs.

“Yeah. Was. Past tense.” I tried not to be a dick, but it was hard. I was miserable

He didn’t even bother to look up at me. He just wrote shit down. “Tell me about that.”

I arched an unimpressed eyebrow even though he couldn’t see me. “I went. It was stupid. And I stopped going.”

“So, you didn’t get anything out of it?” Still no eye contact.

“Would I be trying to refill my drugs if I had?”

That got him to look at me. I knew he was judging me.

My attitude probably wasn’t the best route to get what I needed. He was already dry as the Sahara. I doubted my snarkiness was doing me any favors. Considering this man was the key to my meds, it would’ve been smart to be sucking his dick at that point. But the man literally screamed cold and clinical.

“The snag I’m hitting here, Daniel, is that your prescription should have lasted you at least another week.”

“Sometimes I pop two.” I shrugged.

“You know that’s not recommended.”

“Higher body weight? I’ve gained muscle since you saw me last.”

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