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“I have a meeting with my advisor.” I nuzzled my nose into the back of her hair before reluctantly letting go and sitting up. “I’m tossing around the idea of changing my major to psychology.”

“Nooo,” Reese moaned, reaching for me, only to pause and open her eyes. “Wait. Really? Psychology?”

“Yeah.” I shrugged, feeling bashful. “A client gave me the idea, actually. I mean, not a real client. We never had sex, but she’d call me anyway because she was lonely and depressed and just wanted someone to talk to, and—oh! I forgot I was going to tell you about her. It’s Ethan Riker’s mom.”

“What?” Her eyes widened, and she sat up. “Ethan’s mom was a client of yours? Wait. You have clients who don’t actually want sex?”

I shrugged. “Had. And yeah, a couple. Amanda was definitely a different sort of case.”

“Amanda? That’s Ethan’s mom’s name?”

With a nod, I told her about how Amanda had tried to commit suicide, and how Ethan had blamed me, and how I’d been worried that Riker might’ve only asked her out as some sort of revenge against me.

“I called and checked in to see how she was doing. She finally answered her phone yesterday evening after I got home from your place. She’d already checked out of the facility she’d been in by then, and honestly, she sounded better than she’d ever sounded before. She seemed embarrassed about calling me that first time to even start our acquaintance, and she promised she’d never bother me again, even though I assured her I would answer if she did. But I guess the scare really brought her son and husband around. She said they’d actually talked to her, like genuinely listened and tried to understand her, so I hope this is the beginning of a better relationship for all of them. Anyway”—I blew out a breath—“the good news is she’s getting help now, plus I’m pretty sure Riker genuinely did like you. He didn’t just ask you out to try to piss me off.”

Throughout my story, Reese’s jaw just kept sagging lower and lower. “Oh my God,” she uttered once I was finished. “I can’t believe his mom was going through all that and he never mentioned a word of it. Wait, I can’t believe he asked me out while he was in the middle of a family crisis.”

Even though I agreed with her, I shrugged. “Some people deal in different ways, I guess. Anyway, the whole thing left me thinking… I don’t know. Maybe I want to help people with problems like that.”

“Aww.” She reached up and cupped my cheek. “You are just the sweetest. I think you’ll make the best, sexiest psychologist ever.”

I chuckled, kissing her nose. “And you’re not being biased at all.” My mouth caught hers, gentling and then lingering before I finally pulled away. “But I really have to go if I want to make that meeting.”

“And I really want you to become a psychologist so I guess I better let you.”

The meeting lasted all of five minutes. I told my advisor my idea, and he said, “Sounds good. Next semester, we’ll start gearing you toward classes to fit that plan.”

And that was that.

I left his office, thinking I’d text Reese and convince her to meet me here on campus for a morning of lattes together. But as I was walking down the hall, I caught a flash of pale blond Malfoy hair. Doing a double take, I met the guy’s gaze, only for his eyes to widen in surprise as if he hadn’t planned on being spotted.

Turning away, he turned down a different hall, trying to evade me. But I wasn’t having it today. Reese might’ve thought she’d stopped Patricia from contacting Jeremy, but if Patricia had gotten a hold of him before Reese had gone over to her house last night, then this still very well could be her psycho ex.

I hurried after him in hot pursuit. What I wasn’t expecting was for him to be waiting on me when I rounded the corner.

“Whoa,” I blurted, lifting my hands and skidding to a halt in order to avoid plowing him over. “What the hell?”

When he just stared at me with wide, worried eyes, I furrowed my brow, slightly confused.

“Have you been following me?” I finally demanded.

“Shh,” he hissed, glancing behind me and then grabbing my arm to drag me further down the hall. Then he whispered, “I need your help. You’re Mason Lowe, right?”

“Umm…yeah.”

Maybe this wasn’t Reese’s psycho stalker ex, after all.

Once he was satisfied we were alone and he had the right guy, he turned to me and said, “I messed up and slept with Patricia Garrison.”

This time, it was my turn to glance around suspiciously, but I was looking for some kind of hidden camera because I had to be getting spoofed right now.

“You… Why in God’s name would you think I’d want to know about that? Or care? I don’t even know you, man.?

??

“I know you don’t know me but I know who you are, and you and her… I mean, you got free of her, right? She said her last toy was broken and she needed a new one. That would be you, correct?”

I narrowed my eyes. “I’m not her fucking toy.”

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