Page 40 of Dreamscape Therapies

"I think you don't usually ask for help unless you're worried about something." He watches me carefully. "Or someone."

I don't answer.

I don't need to.

"Give me a few days," he says. "I'll shake some trees and see what falls out."

"Thanks," I murmur, my chest feeling tight. "I mean it."

Shane's smile returns. "Love you too, baby brother."

I roll my eyes. "I didn't say that."

"You were thinking it!" he calls out as he turns and heads back toward the station.

I flip him off.

Somehow, he sees it and his booming laughter follows me across the parking lot.

My phone buzzes in my pocket as I get into my car and shut the door.

It’s Vincent.

My heart does something stupid and fluttery before I even open the message.

This is so bad. I shouldn’t be feeling these things for a client. It's inappropriate and unprofessional. And it's exactly what I'm doing anyway.

Vincent: Morning, Doc.

I smile.

Then another message appears.

Vincent: I slept.

A ridiculous amount of pride swells in my chest as I think of something chill to text him back.

Jay: Congrats! Most people learn that skill as infants, but I'm still proud of you anyway.

Three dots appear, disappear, and appear again.

My stomach drops. Was that too much? Did I hurt his feelings? We joke like this, don't we? Or did I misread everything? Should I apologize?

Vincent: Asshole

A bark of laughter escapes me as relief floods through my chest.

Vincent: But seriously, though. No nightmares.

Vincent: No giant yarn monster.

Hades and Persephone, I'm so stupidly proud of him.

Jay: That's amazing, Vincent!

Vincent: I figured you'd want to know.

Of course I want to know. I want to know everything. What he's doing. How he's feeling. Whether he's sleeping. Whether he's eating. Whether he's happy.