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LUCAS
“Iknow you think I’m devastatingly handsome, but you don’t have to stare at me like that.”
Lauren’s lips twitch, but she won’t give me an actual smile. She wouldn’t let me gain that much ground, especially not when we’re on her turf—in the middle of a session.
“I’m waiting for you to say something, which you know very well. As usual, you’re using sarcasm and charm to disguise what’s going on inside.”
“So you think I’m charming.”
Her brows draw together, and her mouth screws up until it’s almost invisible. “Lucas. Are we always going to do this dance? You know how seriously I take my work, even when it comes to you. Maybe especially when it comes to you.”
“Thank you.”
“And I don’t feel as if I’m doing my job when all we do is sit here and go back and forth. I’m not serving you as your doctor when we spend half our time bantering before you finally decide to get real.”
“You want me to get real?”
“I’d appreciate it very much.” She follows the direction my gaze travels in. “Maybe without the Scotch this time. I’d rather speak with a clear-headed version of you.”
The clear-headed version of me isn’t in the mood to speak. It looks like we’re at an impasse.
“Let’s go back to what we discussed in a previous session.” She crosses one leg over the other, tapping her pen on that blank notepad. “How are you managing your relationship with Aspen? How are you two doing together?”
“Pretty well. Taking it slowly, but I believe we’re headed in the right direction.”
She nods slowly. “Can you tell me why you scowled when I mentioned her name?”
“I did?”
“Like you wanted to rip my head off.”
I scoff, folding my arms. “You would know for sure if I wanted to do that.”
“Come on. Out with it. Why does the mention of her name stir up that reaction?”
I wasn’t aware I had that reaction. I’m still not sure she’s being straight with me. “Why would Aspen make me feel that way?”
“I’m asking you, remember?” She leans forward, her brows pinched together like she’s in pain. “I know you carry guilt over that night, but you couldn’t have known what would happen. I’d like to go over a few exercises to help you release that guilt.”
“Do I strike you as somebody who does emotional exercises?”
“No. You strike me as someone who allows emotional pain to fester until it eats away at them from the inside out.”
I’d crack a joke, but I’m not in a joking mood anymore. I wasn’t in the first place. She sees straight through me—I’ll do anything to keep from talking about my feelings.
“Would it surprise you to know I’ve done a lot of thinking about this?” To hell with her wanting me sober. I at least need to get a buzz on to go through this. The Scotch is waiting for me. This time, I use a glass, though I fill it more than halfway before returning to the couch.
She’s waiting, patient as ever. I almost wish she wouldn’t be so damn calm at times like this. No matter how I try, I can’t get a reaction out of her. Ever the professional.
She expects me to open now, so I drain half the glass before admitting what’s weighing heaviest on my mind. She won’t let it go until I do. “It’s not only that night. I know I said it was, and I doubt I’ll ever forgive myself for leaving her unprotected.”
I take another sip, the liquor burning its way down my throat. The sensation is a welcome one. “It’s everything that came before that. How can I live with myself, knowing what I put her through?”
Lauren frowns. “The way she was treated when she first arrived, you mean?”
“Of course, that’s what I mean. I allowed her to be abused. Practically tortured.”
“You did what you felt had to be done to make an example out of her.”
