Chapter 2
Two
When I came to work this morning, did I expect to be standing beside my colleague Jenna when her water suddenly broke? I can’t say that I did. I would have worn different shoes.
Up to that point, it had been a typical day. I had a nice appointment with one of my favourite clients, Grace Knight. She recently started dating again, and she’s so happy. She has come a long way since we first met, and I’m glad I got to be a part of her healing journey.
I checked in with Jackson’s lawyer to see if there was anything I could do to help with his upcoming court hearing.
From what I’ve gathered, he had already breached his probation before he unexpectedly showed up at Friendsgiving dinner on Sunday night.
The fistfight with his brother, Logan, and the altercation with the responding police officer probably didn’t help his situation.
I don’t know Jackson, but I couldn’t stand back and watch him spiral like that. Everyone deserves to have someone supportive in their corner, no matter their past.
When I was passing my colleague Jenna in the hallway earlier, she stopped to let me know she was going to work until the end of the week and then go on an early maternity leave.
The clinic had already hired another therapist to cover for her.
Apparently, the baby has other plans and decided it’s ready to come now.
She stared at me wide-eyed for a moment before slowly looking down at the floor where amniotic fluid was gathering around her feet.
Shock quickly gave way to pain and panic.
She grasped both of my arms tightly for support, and for a moment I was genuinely concerned that I would be the one helping bring her baby into the world.
I can’t say that’s a bucket list item for me.
Hearing the commotion, the new receptionist ran into the hall to see what was going on. She got so pale I thought she was going to pass out on the spot. Thankfully, she pulled herself together long enough to call 911, and the ambulance arrived quickly.
In between contractions and before being loaded onto the stretcher, Jenna insisted I cover her last appointment of the day. She pressed it was important and that it was too late to cancel. I’d been looking forward to going for a quick run before it gets dark, but that will have to wait.
When I meet a new client for the first time, I like to at the very least know who I’m seeing and a little of their background.
Not today. Everything happened so quickly that I’m walking in completely unprepared.
All I have is her name, and if I had known who it was beforehand, I probably would have made up an excuse and said no.
Standing with her back to me is the last person I expected to see here this afternoon.
I lightly tap on the door twice to announce my presence before stepping inside.
She has her long raven-black hair braided into two plaits that fall down her back.
A loose-fitting top slips off one shoulder, and her denim jeans hug the curve of her ass perfectly.
Gorgeous, colourful ink covers her tanned skin.
She is exactly the type of woman I’m attracted to.
She is everything I need to stay away from.
Her voice snaps me out of my thoughts.
“Sorry, give me a second,” she mumbles, her long nails tapping as her fingers fly across the keyboard of her phone.
Sighing, I close the door behind me and silently cross the room. Lowering myself into one of the plush chairs, I lean back and spread my legs to make myself comfortable. If she’s distracted by her phone, this could take a while.
When Carson practically forced me to be his friend five years ago, I didn’t realize it would include six more people, regular get-togethers, and an annoying amount of group texts.
Though I’m ten years older than they are, something they don’t let me forget, I enjoy hanging out with them.
Even when I sometimes feel like I’m on the outside looking in.
I’ve never shared much about myself, and no one really asks, respecting my privacy.
Except Carson. He just showed up at my house one morning with coffee and has invited himself over ever since.
I didn’t realize how much I had isolated myself when I moved here until I started spending time with him.
Of everyone in our tight friend group, I try to keep Beck at arm’s length.
Her easy smiles, casual touches, and teasing comments fuck with my head more than I would like to admit.
She’s the only one who can really get under my skin.
Scratch that—the last few times we have all been out together, she has gone out of her way to get under my skin.
It’s become a big game to her, to see how many outrageous things she can do or say before I react. I feel like it has gotten worse over the past few months. Even our friends have noticed, calling us out for the constant back-and-forth between us.
The thing is, twenty years ago, I would’ve welcomed her kind of trouble. Hell, I would have been right there beside her. Now, I do everything I can to avoid it—her.
When she’s done on her phone, I watch as she slides it into her back pocket and turns to face me.
The shock on her face would be comical if it weren’t for the mascara running down her cheeks.
Even raw with emotion, she is stunning. Her eyes are the most brilliant shade of sapphire blue I have ever seen. A stark contrast to her black hair.
“You’re wearing your glasses,” she blurts out before plopping down on the couch across from me.
Sitting up straighter, I shrug and adjust the rims on my face. “Yeah… You’ve seen me wear them before; what’s the big deal?”
“Hmm,”—she draws her lower lip between her teeth and nods her head appreciatively—“they look hot, Pretty Boy. You should wear them all the time.”
God, I hate that nickname, but I’m going to ignore her attempt to rile me up while I’m at work. I take a deep breath before asking, “Oh, yeah? Since when have glasses been hot?”
“Since always.” She crinkles her forehead like I just asked her the most ridiculous question.
“Grey sweatpants, a backwards hat, a white tight-fitting T-shirt, ooh, and when men roll their dress shirt sleeves up to their elbows.” She mimics the movement.
“These are all kryptonite to women. How do you not know this?” Her expression changes to fake sympathy.
“Aww, is that why you’re single? You don’t know how to attract a woman?
All you need to do is ask; we can help you. ”
“Are you done?” Lifting an eyebrow, I cross my arms over my broad chest.
“I guess.” Biting her bottom lip, she looks away. “Where’s Jenna? I thought she was working for a few more weeks.”
“She had to leave early and asked me to cover her clients for the rest of the day,” I explain, watching her from my spot in the chair. I’m sure Beck will hear about Jenna and the baby soon enough, but it won’t be from me.
“Oh.” Her shoulders roll in on themselves as she rises to her feet. “It’s okay; I’ll reschedule. Her replacement will start soon, though, right?”
I know I should let her go and get on with my day. It would probably be better for both of us if I did. But she looks so defeated. That pulls at something inside me I don’t want to examine too closely.
Just last Sunday, even with her car trouble, she was her typical bratty self when she asked me to give her a ride to Friendsgiving. I’m certain I was her last resort, but once she was in the truck, conversation came easily enough considering we are never alone together.
When the evening unravelled and went to shit, she stayed calm and helped hold things together. Now it appears as if the weight of it all has finally caught up with her.
“You’re upset. What’s going on?” I ask, leaning forward to pass her a box of tissues.
The corner of her lip lifts as she accepts. Her watery blue eyes are even brighter than normal. Lowering herself back down onto the seat, she exhales heavily as she wipes underneath her eyes. “I’m fine. Today has been the Mondayest Monday in the history of Mondays.”
“You realize it’s Tuesday, don’t you?” I say slowly, narrowing my eyes and cocking my head to the side.
Her head drops, and she huffs before shaking it. “Of course it is,” she mumbles to herself.
“Look, there are rules. I can’t really be your therapist, not when we are…friends.”
She rolls her eyes, and we both grin. “Okay, maybe friends is a stretch. We’re…friendly.” I let out a breath. “But since you’re already here, if you want to talk, I can listen. You know that anything you say in this room stays between us, right?”
“Thank you for offering, but I’m good. I think I need to go home and go to bed early. Tomorrow’s a new day and all that,” she says with a fake smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes.
“If you don’t want to talk to me, how about calling one of the girls?” I suggest, resting my elbows on my knees. Honestly, that choice would be better for both of us.
She picks at the skin around her bold red nail. Shaking her head, she says, “No, they all have their own stuff going on right now.”
She’s not wrong. I’m sure it’s going to take Logan and Hannah a little while before they can unpack all the secrets Jackson exposed. But Claire and Megan would be there for her if she reached out.
“Really, I’m fine.”
“Are you trying to convince yourself or me? In this office, ‘I’m fine’ usually means you are trying to avoid a tough conversation.”
Suddenly she stands and walks towards the door. Pausing, she glances back at me over her shoulder and asks, “Do you like Thai?”
“What?” I ask, narrowing my eyes. That’s random. Is she asking me out to dinner?
“Thai food. I heard the new Thai food place in town is good. Have you been? I’m thinking about stopping and picking some up for supper on my way home.
” Pausing, she contemplates for a moment before shaking her head.
“No, never mind. I can’t do that. Shit. Bye, Ryan.
” She waves her hand in the air, and then she’s gone.
Slipping my fingers underneath my glasses, I pinch the bridge of my nose and breathe deeply. I don’t know why I’m surprised. She gives me whiplash, constantly saying exactly what’s on her mind, then changing the subject in the next sentence. Oh well, not my problem. Hopefully, her bad day improves.
Thai food does sound good, though.