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“You have your own range?”
“The perks of being a mindless corporate raider,” he quipped. “And I promise, I’ve never seduced anyone in a batting cage.” As soon as he said it, images of doing just that flooded through his mind.
The air went still between them.
“Why are we talking about seduction?” Maggie asked in a raspy voice.
“You’re the one who brought up my etchings,” he said.
“It was a joke.”
They stared at each other some more. He could practically feel the air scorching between them as her pupils flared and her eyes darkened despite the intensity of the arc lights shining down on them.
“Maggie,” he said after a few seconds. “I don’t think this is a subject we can joke about. Not if we’re sticking to the too-complicated theory.” He swallowed, trying for that whole head-over-heart thing again. Difficult when he could remember so precisely what kissing her had felt like. “Now. It’s freezing out so you need to start hitting or we need to go inside. Pick one.”
She hesitated, free hand flexing as though she was debating something in her head. Then she curled her hands around the bat and he fought hard not to think about them curling around something more intimately connected with his body.
“Start the damn machine,” she said.
He obeyed but he was pretty sure the damn ball machine wasn’t the only thing that had started just now.
“So,” Alex said, as Maggie took up what was becoming a familiar seat in the chair opposite his desk. “Ready to work?”
She flipped open her iPad case ready to take notes. Between slugging balls and a quick shower, she felt calmer. Slightly. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“You were pretty upset when you arrived.”
“I wasn’t upset. I was angry. There’s a difference.” She gritted her teeth, feeling her calm slide away, in no mood for another session of men telling poor little Maggie how she should feel or what to do.
“Angry, then,” Alex said. “Are you?—”
“I’m allowed to be angry, you know. I got the shitty end of this deal.”
“I know,” Alex said. “That’s why I’m trying to ask if you’re okay. But apparently that’s just making you madder so I’ll stop.”
Maggie bit her lip. Damn. She was being a bitch again.
“Take that, Saint Maggie.”
The patient seems to be attempting to reframe her personality, to imagine a more assertive self. Patient might find it more useful to use a more positive image for said reframing.
“Shut up.”
Her inner psychologist was another thing that needed a makeover. She shifted in her chair and refocused on Alex, who was watching her patiently. He did too many things patiently. He hadn’t even brought up the kissing. All Mr. Nice Guy and Mr. Understanding and Mr. Trust Me. Well, that much nice was too good to be true. Her dad had spent his life being Mr. Nice Guy and look where believing in that had gotten her.
Gah.
Fury burned through her. She didn’t want to feel like this, didn’t want to be on this emotional roller coaster. Every time she thought she’d gotten a handle on things, gotten the ground back beneath her feet, it shifted again, opened up and tumbled her over and out into another confusing emotion. She needed to suck it up and get it under control.
Patient is in denial about ability to cope with emotional upheaval. Patient may have tendency to be a control freak.
“Shut the fuck up.”
“What were we talking about?” she asked Alex, who was still just watching her.
“You being angry.”
Points to him for not shying away from the topic at least. He might be doing Mr. Nice Guy but apparently that didn’t stop him from also doing Mr. Straight to the Point. She appreciated that much, that he had been honest with her.
