“Oh. Right. Well, I’m the doctor now.”
“Is that so?” Anna asked. She sat up a little bit. “I’m on your couch?”
“Oh, baby, you’re in my bed. Now talk.”
“You’d make a terrible therapist,” Anna smirked. “Sleeping with your clients. Demanding they talk. No bedside manner.”
“I’m pretty sure anything to do with my bed I’m good at,” I said. “Now, are you going to talk?”
Anna inched toward me. Her body against mine. Looking up at me.
“It’s messy,” she whispered.
“Anna.”
“It wasn’t a quick thing. Okay? What I had…”
“You’re talking about the guy who can’t get a boner?”
“He couldn’t get a boner for me. Other women? He was fine.”
“What a fucking loser.”
“I agree,” she said. “We were together for a long time. Way too long. Long enough that… I don’t know.”
“Fuck, baby, you have feelings…”
“It’s not that. I promise, Joe. It’s not that at all. It’s just a lot to take in. And he sent me a text last night. When I was getting a glass of water, I heard my phone vibrate. I wasn’t sure if it was Bethany or that dirtbag of a landlord I have to deal with. I shouldn’t have checked my phone at all. But I did.”
“What did he say?” I asked.
“Nothing that matters right now.”
I hated that answer.
And she knew it.
She read it all over my face.
I couldn’t help how I felt or my intense and sudden desire to protect Anna from the world.
Even though I was part of that world.
How the fuck was I going to protect her from me?
She’s in my bed. She’s in my arms.
I don’t want to let her go.
Before anything else could be said or done, my phone began to vibrate.
A text from Henry.
Wanting to let me know I was expected at practice.
Apparently my therapy was paying off.
I was now allowed on the ice to participate during practice.