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I flinched. No. I sure as fuck wasn’t doing that.
“Then after you do the ooo, I’m going to have you do a few puh sounds.” She demonstrated by popping her lips and saying puh, puh, puh, which was ridiculous. I was not doing that.
I continued scowling at her, but my chipper therapist remained unfazed.
“Come on. Do it with me.” She did the ooo thing again. I shook my head. But my eyes slid to her pursed lips and stayed there. I thought of her in the bathroom at Oak & Sage, thought about the way I’d had her pressed against the door, my lips very close to being on hers. The moment when we’d shared air and the lightning-like static between us buzzed…
“At least do the puh sound with me.” She popped her lips and mine smiled.
She smiled back at me but shook her head. “You are impossible.”
You are beautiful,I wanted to tell her, but I also didn’t want to sound like that stuttering guy, Ken, from A Fish Called Wanda. Really old movie. Michael Palin was one of Dad’s favorite actors.
She checked the paper in her hand. “Okay, how about doing the kissing exercise instead?”
Now we were talking. That sounded a hell of a lot better than making fish faces at each other.
“Pucker,” she instructed, “then slide the pucker to the left, then the right. Like this.” Watching her mouth form a kiss was cute, and the Charlie Chaplin twitch she added, adorable. When her lips moved left, then right again, I smirked.
Yeah, I wasn’t doing that either, but I could watch her do it all damn day.
“From there we will move on to whistling”—she regarded the paper again and read from the text—“and drinking from a straw.”
Drinking from a straw? What the hell was that about? She pulled a few paper-wrapped straws and a bottle of water from her bag, and I started fidgeting. I was feeling inexplicably nervous. I knew how to drink from a straw. Why did I have to demonstrate it?
“Why?” I asked as she arranged them like torture implements on the blanket between us. Every once in a while, if I was sure I could get a word or two out without tripping up, I liked to stun her. T’s were not easy. Helpful, since my therapist’s name was Tasha. A hard T.
Thanks, fate. Appreciate the backup.
“Why…the straw?” she asked, clarifying.
I nodded.
“Oh. Well, it’s a great activity for the tongue and cheeks. Drinking from a straw requires flexing the cheeks and”—she pushed her thumb and forefinger into her round cheeks and pinched lightly—“pursing of the lips. And you have to tighten your tongue to suck.”
Parts of me were responding to her suggestions. Coming from her supple lips, this session sounded less like therapy and a whole hell of a lot like phone sex.
“Think of it as an oral workout,” she said with a genuine smile.
My scowl deepened. If she kept this up, I’d sport a boner she could hang her purse from. Watching the blush dust her cheekbones was so enjoyable, I wished I could rewind her reaction and watch it again in slow motion.
“Cade!” She shook her head, reprimanding me. “If that’s what you’re turning this into, I’m…Listen. You came to me. I’m doing what you asked.”
Flustered. I liked that she was flustered.
“I know,” I managed, and took a deep breath of relief. Nice when the words rolled off my uncooperative tongue without too much fight.
“Also, smiling helps. Smile really big, then relax.” She demonstrated. Then she puffed up her cheeks and let them go. This was the most ridiculous display I’d ever seen. So why did she look so freaking cute doing it?
“Don’t be nervous. Just do it.”
“I’m n-…I’m n-…” I gave up.
She sat on her knees, hands resting on her denim-covered legs. “Cade.”
I hated the sympathy in her eyes, so I looked away. I wasn’t doing her stupid “therapy.” Snatching up the water bottle, I twisted off the lid and took a slug.
“Not all of it!” She tried to stop me.
I swatted her hand away and drained every last drop down my throat.
“Thanks a lot. Now what are we supposed to do with the straws?”
I had a few suggestions, but as usual, I couldn’t fucking say them. I crushed the bottle and tossed it onto the blanket like a gauntlet. There. That takes care of the straws.
Tasha’s eyes narrowed, coloring her features in a look of determination. I guessed she wasn’t done with me yet.
