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It’s disconcerting—the warmth he shows others and the frigidness he directs toward me.

I can’t help but think something’s off about him. But no one in his family seems to notice.

So maybe I’m wrong.

Maybe the sharp gaze that occasionally snags on mine, but then will quickly swivel away when he catches me looking, is just dislike.

Or maybe it’s contempt.

And I’m trying, but failing, not to be offended.

I’m used to rejection and unease whenever people find out I’m a psychiatrist. They think I’ll see through their defenses and secretly judge them.

But those people usually need help the most. They have something to hide.

And secrets fester from the inside out. I should know that better than anyone.

The brunette with curves for days is now pawing his chest, and an uncomfortable tug prickles my gut. Indigestion probably. Ishouldeat on time.

Rex laughs, the sound I can’t hear because of the booming music, but that wide, charming smile sends my heart into a fritz.

Normal physiological reactions from seeing a beautiful man. I’d be blind not to react.

Gritting my teeth, I watch him yank the two women closer, the three of them entangled in a half-naked, sultry dance under the spotlight. I can’t help but wonder how it feels not to care what the rest of the world thinks of you. To do whatever you want whenever it strikes you.

To be free.

One woman is now dropping kisses all over his abs.

The indigestion flares again.

I tear my gaze away. I should leave.Why the hell am I here? Just because someone said carpe diem?

Mia isn’t coming back. She’ll never come back.

It’s too late.

No matter what I do, how many lives I save, I’ll never bring her back.

My ribs tighten, strangling my lungs, and my stomach churns.

I clutch my tote tighter against my chest, trying to stave off the sudden wave of nausea when someone plows into me from the side.

Momentarily disoriented, I’m thankful for the sensible flats I have on or I’d have gone down like a bowling ball in the gutter. The blond, clearly drunk culprit barely spares me a glance before mouthing an apology.

Determined to end this temporary lapse of sanity, I take a step toward the exit when the same searing heat burns the back of my neck again.

My hackles rise and I swivel toward the stage, finding an intense pair of slate-gray eyes boring into me.

Rex, still arms full of women, isn’t smiling, even as his body sways to the music. He swirls an amber drink in his hand, the casualness of the gesture completely at odds with the blistering fire in his gaze.

My ears ring and my breath catches. Time distills into staccato fragments.

His gaze trails down my body, the sensation like a physical caress. His eyes darken, a pulse battering against his jawline as he stares at the tote in my arms before snapping his gaze to mine again.

The sexy duo rubs themselves on him, two feral cats gyrating their hips low toward the floor, using his body as a pole. But Rex doesn’t appear to notice when they hump him. I, however, can’t stop my lips from curling in disdain.

Ugh. Get a room.