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5
Lila
Mysecondclientofthe day, resting in front of me on the forest green plush chaise lounge, stared at me in disbelief. “You want me to do what?” He ran his hand through his short silver hair.
The space between us was accented by a green wool area rug that matched the calming emerald hue of the walls. The trickling of the water fountain added soothing background noise. From the side table, next to the cozy couch, a relaxing lavender scent permeated the room from the essential oil diffuser. Everything in my office promoted emotional well-being.
My own chair was a neutral beige to reinforce the idea that therapy was safe and nonjudgmental. “It’s a proven technique,” I said. “And I think it’s time.”
He shook his head. “No way. You’re crazy if you think I’m ready for that.”
“It’s been six months since the last time you gambled. You haven’t even bought a single lottery ticket. This is the next step. It’s important for your recovery.”
“But what if I can’t resist? I mean, the casino?”
When it came to addictions, it was a fine line between knowing you weren’t ready and doubting you could resist.
“Not a casino. Not yet. But one of those bars with the slot machines. Bring an accountability partner who’s not a gambling addict, then walk in and walk out. That’s all. Don’t spend more than two minutes there.”
“My accountability partner is an alcoholic. I can’t bring him to a bar.”
“I see. Then I’ll find you someone who neither has gambling nor alcohol dependence issues.”
His mouth gaped open. “I don’t want a druggie with me.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Well, what else is there? It’s always either booze, drugs, or money.”
That’s what most people thought. And they were so wrong. “There are dependency issues in many other areas, such as video games, food, sex, even emotional dependence.” And broody men covered with tattoos who had a soft spot for animals.
“Forget it. I’ll take my wife with me. She won’t let me put a single dime in those machines. If anyone can get me out of there, it’s her.”
“As long as she doesn’t use anger or shame as a tactic. Would you like me to have a session with her to guide her on the best possible way to help you in your moments of temptation?”
“No, it’s fine. She hasn’t made me feel humiliated once yet, so I think it’ll be okay.”
“Good. Now here is how you’re going to handle this…”
My session continued without a hitch, as did the next two, until I had a one-hour break for lunch.
Leaving my office, I walked into the hall of the clinic, past the main entrance, and headed toward the elevators. As I walked into one, I heard someone stepping in behind me. I turned toward the panel and spotted who had followed me in.
I froze. My breaths quickened for no good reason. Correction. There was a damn sexy-as-hell good reason standing right next to me.
What was he doing here?
Hawk stood beside me. Did he recognize me? Probably not. I was sure I looked completely different in a business suit and with my hair down.
I was about to say something, but my eyes drank in his outfit instead. He filled out his black t-shirt and ripped denim pants in a droolworthy way. I had assumed my reaction to him last Saturday was an anomaly. But this was twice I’d seen him, and both times, my hormones had gone into hyper-drive.
I snapped my head down, hoping he wouldn’t look at me. I didn’t normally go gaga over guys. In fact, I’d been practically asexual while I focused all my energy on advancing my career. The title on my door should have read Overworked and Under Fucked instead of Psychiatrist, Addiction Specialist.
But with Hawk, something was different.
Heat pooled between my thighs for the first time in… I couldn’t even remember how long it had been since a man had triggered a sexual reaction in my body. At least not a real man.
Sure, sometimes I made up fictional men for quickie masturbation sessions before passing out for my precious six hours of sleep. Those guys didn’t count. They were as fictional as the Avengers.
