Chapter 26 Rose
ROSE
Four hours and back-to-back appointments later, I was officially spent. I pulled off my glasses and rubbed my temples, willing the persistent headache I’d been nursing for over twenty-four hours to go away.
Leaning back in my chair, I let out a slow, frayed breath.
I needed ibuprofen. Coffee. A snack.
With vending-machine tunnel vision, I grabbed a handful of quarters, shoved them into my palm, and yanked open my office door—and crashed directly into a wall of heat, cedar, and pure muscle.
The quarters slipped from my hand and scattered across the floor, one pinging off the top of a scuffed, black combat boot.
My stomach dropped.
I looked up—too fast—and my gaze collided with Phoenix Steele’s. Every ounce of calm I’d scraped together during the morning shattered on impact.
His eyes pinned me with that same impossible intensity—dark, hot, searching. It knocked my balance off in every sense of the word.
My gaze flickered to the front desk. No Zoey.
I dropped to my knees to collect the coins, willing my heart to slow down, willing my breath to even out. But it was no use.
Every emotion I’d spent the day trying to shove into tidy little compartments came roaring back in full force. I was angry, hurt, confused.
Scared.
Scared of how intense my feelings were. Scared of how easily he slipped past every boundary I’d spent years learning how to build.
I didn’t know what to make of the last twenty-four hours of my life.
Of the man standing in front of me.
I stood slowly, not quite meeting his eyes.
“Can I help you?” I asked, my voice clipped and tired and far colder than I intended. If he didn’t already know I was still upset about the night before, he knew it now.
And I didn't care.
Because I wasn’t ready. Not to hear what he had to say. And definitely not to feel what I was already feeling just standing this close to him.
“I’m here for my appointment.”
“What appointment?”
“The one I booked earlier this morning.”
“The one you… you really want to… are you kidding?” I blinked. “You seriously made another appointment with me?”
“Yes.”
I looked at the clock on the wall. “For one-thirty?”
“Yes.”
A moment stretched between us.
Theo walked by, glancing in our direction.
Damn, damn, damn...
“Well.” I was shook. Thrown. Knocked off my game. But here he was… “I guess if you have an appointment… Come on in, then.”
My jaw clenched as I walked to my desk. The door clicked closed behind me. I lowered into my chair, my back as stiff as a rod. I truly never expected to see him again. I’d never gotten into an argument with a client before. I didn’t know how to navigate this.
Phoenix took his spot on the couch and was rolling one of my vesuvianite stones between his fingers, per usual.
We stared at each other for what seemed like two lifetimes, the weight in the room suddenly suffocating, closing in on me with a dead body, the argument, the undeniable attraction between us.
Pandora’s box had been opened, and no matter how much I tried to pretend it wasn’t the case, me and Phoenix’s professional relationship had morphed into something else.
Something that sent me lopsided and scared the crap out of me.
The man was unpredictable, a loose cannon.
“No good.” He was everything I’d spent the last twenty years trying to avoid.
Yet there he was, staring at me with those baby blue eyes, pushing his way into my life, expecting another dog and pony show of me trying to heal what was broken while he fought me every inch of the way.
I inhaled.
“You can’t talk to me like you did last night, Phoenix. Ever again. I won’t accept it. I won’t put up with it. Do you understand me?”
“Yes. I’m sorry.”
I blinked.
I’m sorry?
The words lingered. I expected him to backtrack, or maybe pass out right there on my floor from the admission that he had done something wrong. He didn’t, so I continued.
“You should know, too, that I’ve decided to transfer your case to someone better suited—”
“Transfer my case?”
“That’s right. After last night… after everything that happened…”
“It won’t happen again.”
“It’s not enough, Phoenix.” I snapped. “This is too important. Lines have been crossed, and I won’t jeopardize your treatment. You deserve better than—”
He pushed off the couch. My body tensed as he crossed the room, placed his palms on my desk and leaned in like he had when he’d bribed me with sex and money days earlier.
Instead of doing that again, though, he said, “You deserve better than the way I treated you last night, Rose. You were confused, scared, vulnerable and I didn’t know how to handle it. I was wrong to speak to you the way I did, and to react the way I did. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”
I blinked again, forcing the shock of the words away. Words were only words, after all.
No.
“No, Phoenix. No. That doesn’t make everything okay. How can I know for sure…”
“I just told you it won’t happen again, and it won’t. I’m a lot of things, Rose, but a liar isn’t one of them. I’m true to my word. It won’t happen again, and I won’t say it again.”
“Your therapy is too important. I know a great psychologist, his name is—”
“No. Rose, it’s you. It’s you. You’re for me. You’re mine,” his voice cracked.
My eyes widened.
“Please.” There was a desperation in his voice. “You’re the only one who can… Please.” His eyes shifted away, shamed by his display of emotions. “Please. I need help.” His eyes met mine again and I swear he had tears in them. “I need help. Please. Help me.”
Tears filled my own eyes as we stared at each other, my heart pounding so loudly I was sure he could hear it.
“Okay,” I whispered finally. “Okay.”
He released a breath, then straightened. His eyes were wide, bright, like a child who wasn’t sure how to react to what had just happened.
I knew that look. That look had shaped my life.
“Take a deep breath,” I said.
His gaze locked on mine and I watched his shoulders slowly rise, drop.
“Again.”
I breathed with him, the desk between us, although it felt like I could reach out and grab onto the connection between us.
“One more time.”
We breathed together.
He nodded—thank you.
I dipped my chin.
I watched him turn and cross the room and sink into the couch with the weight of a man that had just loosened the armor around him.
His gaze shifted to the dry erase board. “Let’s focus on the goals.”
I smiled, suddenly overwhelmed with pride. I was so damn proud of him… and I was so—so—falling for him.
“Alright,” I said. “Let’s begin.”