Chapter 16 #2
He laughs from deep in his belly and the vibration of it fills the room. “God no, Carter and I were the ones making fun of the Boy Scouts, which in hindsight, is hilarious seeing as how I pretty much became a professional Boy Scout once I joined the Marines.”
This is the most open he’s been with me during our time together about his past. It’s nice hearing him talk about his life growing up and his family.
“Carter is your foster brother?” I ask, mostly to confirm and hopefully get him to keep talking. He moves to take a seat on my couch while I grab my pen and paper. Crossing my legs underneath me, I settle myself into my oversized armchair across from him.
“Yep. He came to live with Ivy and me when I was young. I never knew I wanted a brother until he became mine.”
“And you two got along well?”
“We were thick as thieves. Looking back on it, I don’t know how Ivy managed to keep us in line.
We were wild, a couple of rowdy boys, you know.
Then Cooper came into the mix and the three of us were…
” he pauses and I can see how he becomes lost in a memory for a moment.
“Let’s just say we definitely weren’t Boy Scouts. ”
The two of us laugh in unison.
“Cooper, he’s the police officer?”
“That’s right. Good memory.” He smiles.
“I do my best to keep tabs on my clients and the important people in their lives.” I shrug with a smirk.
“Speaking of keeping tabs, how’s that bunny of yours looking?” My pen pauses on the pad of paper I’m using to jot down notes. I flit my eyes up and look at him through my lashes.
“I’d rather talk about whatever was on your mind when you texted me this weekend.”
“I’d rather talk about those cute strawberry pajamas you were wearing,” he tosses back. “Maybe I should call you strawberry shortcake instead of doc.”
“Maybe you should call me ‘Hanna’ since that’s my name,” I reply evenly. I lick my lips and don’t miss how his eyes fall to my mouth as I do.
Leaning back against the couch, he looks at me with a coy expression. The air between us grows thick as he works to come up with some sort of remark but words seem to fail him.
“I like your glasses,” he says, finally breaking the silence between us. Instinctively, my hand comes to the side of them and presses them up on the bridge of my nose.
“Thanks, they help me see better.”
“See your dashing clients who come to see you every day?”
I laugh. “You think you’re dashing?”
“I don’t know, do you?”
His question hangs in the air like a giant warning sign screaming ‘Mayday! Mayday! Abort mission! Abort mission!’ But the truth is, I do think he’s dashing.
As much as I shouldn’t, I find him interesting and cute in a way that should be outlawed.
But I can’t tell him that, I can’t even tell myself that.
“I think I’m your therapist and this is so wildly off track from what we should be talking about,” I say, swallowing hard. He narrows his eyes at me for a second before taking a deep breath, which I match.
“I texted you because I needed a distraction.”
“A distraction from what?” I pose, thankful that we’ve moved on from talking about how I feel about him.
“Just a bad dream I’d had. Nothing major.” He shrugs it off but even with his attempted aloofness, I can still tell that this isn’t ‘nothing major’ to him.
“A dream about what?” I ask. He holds my gaze for a beat before answering.
“I—” he hesitates, eyes dropping to his lap. He squirms where he’s sitting before looking back at me. “It was just a bad dream. That’s all.”
Never one to push my clients to talk about something they’re not ready to discuss, I simply nod.
“You know, I have another patient struggling with nightmares. Something I suggested he do is write them down in a note or journal when they happen. Sometimes it helps us process things better when we write them down on paper and look at them with our own eyes.”
He seems to consider my proposition and nods. “I’ll keep that in mind. But, they’re really not that bad so I probably won’t need to write them down.”
“Well if you have another one—”
“I’ll be sure to write it down.”
I squeeze my lips together and look at him, hoping that he’ll give the practice a chance.
I ask him a few more probing questions and we talk until I feel my watch buzzing quietly on my wrist, signalling that our time is up.
Glancing down at it, I’m surprised by how fast our session went.
It feels like we only just sat down. I didn’t even get to drink my coffee.
“I know you weren’t ready to talk about your nightmares today, but I still want you to try writing them down.
I also want to talk about them a little more next week if you’re ready,” I offer, standing from my seat to signal our time is up.
He moves quickly and stands, taking a step towards me.
Looking up at him, his brown eyes are locked on mine, causing my heart to skip a beat.
“Is it still okay if I text you? You know, if I need another distraction?”
“If you have something you need, you can always reach out. I told you that before and I still mean it now,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady.
“I’d be very careful about offering to take care of my needs, doc.
” His voice is low and gravely as he speaks and I hope to god he can’t hear how fast my heart is racing.
Taking another step closer, he reaches for my arm and grazes it with his fingers.
Goosebumps spring up across my skin which he feels and chuckles at.
“I—I have another patient coming,” I say, clearing my throat. When I take a step away, he takes another one to close the space I created.
“Well isn’t that a damn shame,” he mumbles under his breath.
Before things get out of hand, I sidestep around him and open the door to my office. It suddenly feels very hot and I feel like I might suffocate if I don’t get some air. I lean against the doorframe and wait. When he reaches it, he leans his arm against the frame and smiles.
“See you next week?”
I look towards my feet and nervously rub my bottom lip. A hair slips out from behind my ear and I quickly tuck it away before looking up at him again. “Yeah, Miles, next week. Same time.”
My heart nearly falls out of my ass when I hear someone clear their throat. Darting my eyes in the direction of the sound, I see my eleven o’clock sitting in a chair, watching us with wide eyes.
“Conrad, you’re early,” I squeak. My eyes are as wide as saucers and I’m completely horrified by what he assumes might have happened.
“I had a few extra minutes this morning so I came over. Do I need to come back later?” He raises his eyebrows as he asks.
“Not at all, come on in.” I wave my hand inside my office, inviting him in.
Miles steps out of the way so Conrad can sneak between us and man have I never wanted to crawl into a hole more than I want to right now.
Miles doesn’t say anything else before winking at me when Conrad’s back is turned and then heads for the hallway to leave.
I can feel how hot my cheeks are as I turn back into my office and close the door.
“You didn’t just have sex in here, did you? Because my ass is going nowhere near that couch if you did,” Conrad jests, pointing to the couch Miles was just on as if it’s infected.
“What? Why would you ask me that? Miles is just a client,” I scoff before wrapping my arms around my chest in defense.
“‘Just a client’ my ass, that guy was ready to rip your clothes off and fuck you right in front of me.”
My mouth hits the floor at his accusation.
Miles does not want to fuck me and even if he did, that won’t be happening because it can’t.
I don’t care how badly I want to run my fingers through his hair or know what it’s like to have his stubble rub against my cheek while he kisses me. Nothing is going to happen. Nothing.
I readjust my glasses before flipping my notepad to a fresh page. “Just shut up and sit your ass down. I’m not having sex in my office and doctor patient confidentiality prevents me from speaking about this any further.”