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“I’m a prisoner of grief and guilt. And that’s why I’m your doctor today. Because I think, I sense…you’re just like me.”

I don’t know how she knows, how she can see so clearly through me when no one else can.

But then again, she probably wonders the same thing about me.

There’s an invisible rope tying me to her. Whenever I’m around her, I want to push her away so she can’t wrench more secrets out of me, or confess my sins and tell her everything—all my secrets and issues.

It’ll be cathartic.

My cock stirs when I relive the sensations of her body against mine in the ocean—compact, soft, curves in the right places.

There’s a poison corrupting my veins, to possess every part of her as I drag out orgasms upon orgasms, her pleasure making me high.

She’ll never be sad again. I’ll make it my mission to make her smile.

I think about how she covered her eyes when I stripped down to my underwear on the cliff.

She isn’t experienced. Has she been well-fucked before? Is she a quiet squirmer, or does she let out the breathiest moans?

Shit. My cock is hard as granite now.

I groan and bury my face in my hands. I’m a sick bastard.

Then the air around me changes.

The hairs on the back of my neck stand.

“Things are getting chummy between you and the doctor, huh?” Casey murmurs and I jolt.

Am I that obvious now? I shift, angling my body away from him, so he doesn’t see the shaft sticking out of my pants.

“You really need to stop with this ‘Surprise, I’m at your front door!’ thing. Don’t you know it’s rude? Just because the door is open doesn’t mean you can just come in.”

I glance over my shoulder, finding his lips flattened, eyes narrowed.

Judgment again. Disappointment, exasperation—what else is new?

“I’ll take any opportunity to knock some sense into you.”

I scoff. “Please don’t act like a martyr. I haven’t seen you much these days. Busy partying it up in paradise without me?”

“It’s only a party if you’re happy. Otherwise, it’s just distraction or, in your case…”

He pauses, no doubt to emphasize his next point like a drama queen.

I turn around, and sure enough, Casey arches his brow.

“Spit it out. You have my full attention now.”

He smirks. “Addiction. You, my friend, are addicted to things that make you forget. You like to run away from your troubles.”

I roll my eyes. “So, what are you? Olivia’s apprentice now? Taking a page from her book to psychoanalyze me?”

“Brush me off all you want, but you know it’s true.” He steps forward, the earlier smugness gone. “Tell me, how many pills did you take this morning?”

I stiffen and look away. “None of your business. And they’re caffeine pills. Not hard drugs. So piss off.”

“Prescriptionpills, which you got off the black market. You need to sleep. So what if you have nightmares? We all do. Get over yourself.”