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Ashley gave him another pout. Christ, that habit was getting old. “I thought after we ate dinner, we could—spend some time together.”
Translation: she wants to fuck and judging her not-so-subtle gaze roaming over his body, she wanted to be fucked hard, but he wasn’t remotely interested. “Thanks for bringing dinner.” He stood to collect the dishes and take them to the sink.
Ashley came up behind him, wrapped her arms around his waist and leaned her head against his back. “I missed you. Let me show you how much.” She pushed the waistband of his sweats lower on his hips with a moan.
This had to stop right now. “Nice try.” He turned around and pinned her arms to her side.
Ashley tilted her head, holding eye contact, and then blinked a few times. “What’s happened? You’ve never turned me down before.”
“I’m not in the mood.”
She cast a skeptical eye. “You met someone.” Her tone wasn’t accusatory, it was curious.
“Not exactly. Sort of like met again.” Which was absurd because it wasn’t like he and Colleen reunited.
“Why, Finn O’Connor, you’re blushing,” Ashley said. “I should be jealous, but I’m too surprised.”
“It’s not like that.”
“No? Then why won’t you let me stay?”
Finn ran a hand over his stubble. “It’s not happening, Ashley.”
“She’s a lucky girl.” She gave him a final, leisurely once-over. “Let me be the first to know if it doesn’t work out,” she said as she left.
Finn closed the door. He took in a long breath and flipped the locks.
The loft shook with a huge boom of thunder. Rain pounded against the tall windows in hard sheets, making it difficult to see anything outside. With an even louder boom the room lit up and lightning slashed through the sky. He walked to the window and braced his arms against the casing, focusing on the storm outside. Thunderstorms weren’t as common in California as on the East Coast, but he recalled how terrified Colleen had been during a rare thunderstorm on one of his summer visits.
He returned to the computer to work on his emails before the power went out. As the screen came to life, he paused when a news alert popped up. He clicked on the news headline: ‘Patrick O’Connor Returns to the Big Apple.’
“Mother. Fucker,” Finn growled, slamming the lid closed.
CHAPTER 7
COLLEEN
Colleen parked in front of the two-story, beige stucco building. It had been six years since she’d been here, but the neighborhood hadn’t changed much. A few of the stores in the strip mall across the street were new, and the all-you-can-eat Chinese buffet was still busy.
She sat in her car for a few moments to review the notes she made prior to her appointment. She’d debated about coming to see her therapist because she thought she had everything under control. But she didn’t. Since her father’s funeral, she’d had trouble sleeping and concentrating. The nightmares had returned, too.
Colleen smoothed her navy-blue linen skirt as she got out of the car. She’d come directly from school and hadn’t had a chance to change into comfortable clothes. Being comfortable when talking to Jalane Stroud was essential because her therapist didn’t tolerate evasiveness. She pushed Colleen hard during her years of therapy. Colleen had cried every visit for months until she could finally dig deep enough to expose her concealed wound.
Colleen entered the small waiting room and closed the door behind her. The room looked the same: plush toys piled high in a large rattan basket, a variety of magazines on a small table, and a thriving Ficus tree in the corner. There was no receptionist, so she pushed a button on the wall that lit up a green light, to let Jalane know she’d arrived. Taking a seat on the worn-out plaid couch, she took out her phone to put it on silent and read a text from Brian.
Last minute meeting after work. Talk later.
Colleen stared at the message until the screen went dark. This was the second time this week he’d cancelled a date. He hadn’t apologized, or even bothered to use a pronoun to personalize his message. She switched off the phone and shoved it back in her purse. She should be angry, but honestly, she was relieved she didn’t have to see him tonight. Picking up a bright pink unicorn plush toy from the basket, she batted the horn. A unicorn might be easier to find than an honorable boyfriend. She’d thought a lot about what Finn had said about integrity during his toast to her father. His insights were powerful and obviously meaningful to him. It was strange to think that someone who had lived a frivolous and selfish life would change their course so quickly.
Maybe Finn had changed? Sean said he had, but what difference did it make now? They missed their chance. With a sigh, she tossed the unicorn back into the basket.
Jalane opened the door, greeting her with a wide smile. “Hi, Colleen. It’s good to see you again.” She wore her familiar loose-fitting shirt paired with slim black ankle slacks. Her hair was almost completely gray now but styled in the same short bob haircut.
“Oh, hi. It’s good to see you, too,” Colleen said, getting to her feet.
“Come on back.” Jalane held the door open.
Taking a seat on a taupe loveseat, Colleen noted the conveniently placed box of tissues on a small, wooden table next to her, hoping she could get through this appointment without crying the entire hour. Even though it was daytime, the room was softly lit by a few table lamps that had a calming effect. A variety of green plants in colorful pots lined the windowsill, making the space feel more like a cozy living room than a therapy office.
