Page 49 of Doug

“Yeah. Well…” Doug stood up, knowing his agitation would be readily apparent to his friend and doctor. “There have been a few…developments.”

“Okay.” Will took the pronouncement with aplomb. “Head on in and have a seat. You want a coffee or anything?” He walked over to the machine, popped in a packet, and hit the brew button.

“No thanks.” Doug coughed. The thought of putting acid in his stomach made him want to puke even more.

“This must be damned disturbing if you don’t want caffeine. Whatever’s on your mind, I haven’t seen you this green and nervous since our first year together.”

“I know. Things have…” Doug trailed off and headed for the office. “Can it wait until we’re both inside before I start?” He needed more time to get his brain around exactly how he’d describe the cluster-fuck that was going on inside him.

The machine finished delivering Will’s black liquid, then he followed Doug in. He took a chair opposite Doug. Not behind the desk. It was one of the things Doug really liked about Will. He didn’t do any pretentious doctor shit. He made the sessions feel like two buddies bullshitting. Which is what had resulted in their long-lasting friendship. Doug had never once been encouraged by the man to lay down on the couch on the other side of the office, or call him by any of his honorifics. A definite plus. He wondered how many patients opted to get prone and call the man “doctor” while spewing their shit?

“Okay.” Will—knowing well Doug’s penchant to have his brain wander off—snapped him back to attention. “When you’re ready. Just start some stream-of-consciousness stuff for me, like we’ve done in the past.”

The far past, Doug amended in his head. They hadn’t done much more than shoot the shit with each other for the last few years, but that was on Doug. Every time Will attempted to dig, Doug filled the hole back in with bullshit.

Doug took a deep breath and attempted to focus. “I told you I took a woman out to dinner a couple of times a few months ago,” Doug began.

“Right. But the situation made you uncomfortable, so you stopped seeing her. We talked about that. I encouraged you to examine why you’d asked her out in the first place. And how your feelings had changed when you went from the intangible of imagining yourself across the table from her in a restaurant, and the tangible of having to actually face her.” He steepled his fingers. “What was your answer to me, Doug?”

Easy-peasy. “That the reality was too much for me to handle.”

“So you said. But was it?” Will asked astutely. “You seemed to accept her, at first. You even had a second date. So what was it that changed your mind? Was it simply that you couldn’t seea path forward with her, or did you fear being a disappointment if things progressed to a point where you had to try to dorealdating things, like kiss?”

Well, hell.

“Dammit, Will. You know me too well.”

“That’s my job,” he smirked. “It’s what you pay me for.”

If they had been out for beers instead of in the office, Will would have called him a dumb-ass, and Doug would have cranked him the middle finger. But that wasn’t happening. Here, in this room, they had an unwritten agreement that their friendship took a back seat to head-shrinking, even though they still slung a few quips back and forth.

Right now, the asshole simply sat back and waited for Doug to speak again.

“Fine,” Doug huffed. “I…found myself still wanting to see her. And when I learned she was going to be cat-sitting for her sister in Old Town over the weekend, I decided to make myself her designated security detail. Outside. I parked my truck across the street, planning to spend the night watching the house.”

“And why would you do that?” Will looked sincerely puzzled. “She’s a grown woman, isn’t she? At least you told me she was a contemporary. I would think she’d be okay being alone.”

Doug blew out a long breath. “Sheismy age. But remember the shooting at her school we talked about?”

“I see. That has her nervous? Understandable,” Will concurred.

“It’s not only that,” Doug admitted. “Ididn’ttell you about the more insidious demons she carries from her past.”

Doug launched into a monologue of everything Pixie had told him about Skeeter, starting with his abusive behavior, and ending with the bullet that had led to the incapacitation of her left arm.

“Wow. That’s one hell of a story, Doug. And this woman…” He was fishing, and Doug finally gave him a name.

“Pixie.”

“Ahh, Pixie.” Will didn’t miss a beat. “Pixie has somehow come to grips with her past? She’s learned to trust men again and is comfortable dating?”

“Not exactly,” Doug told him. “I’m, uh, the first man she’s dated since it happened.”

Now Will’s brows went up. “How long ago did you say she was injured?”

“I didn’t. But it’s been…sixteen years.” Doug might have mumbled the last.

Will cleared his throat.

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