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Becauseholy shitdid that just happen?
I should never have let that happen.
Kael is a patient here. And I’m his therapist.His therapist.He has problems. I’m supposed to be helping him with those problems.
Not complicating them.
And whether I like it or not, my guess is things between us just got a whole lot more complicated.
I could really use one of thoseGuide to Getting Over Himmagazine articles right about now so that way I could at least consider some alternatives. Get a little advice. I glance at the coffee table. Nope, still just designer homes and interior delights.
Just my luck.
This has to stop. And it has to stopnow.
So, what I do next I’m going to blame entirely on mixed emotions, estrogen, and adrenaline. Yep. I do the unthinkable. I text Andrea, and I ask her to give my phone number to the new guy at work.
There. Done.
I’ll no doubt live to regret it, but I need a distraction. I’m done with feelings, and I’m not interested in casually hooking up with someone I don’t even know, but maybe the time has come to finally get out and see other people. The only way to get over Kael, to really put my attraction to bed, is to focus my attention on someone else.
I need to go on a date.
At worst, it will be a pleasant dinner out on the town. At best, my feelings for Kael might just pack their bags and leave for good. A win-win. For everyone involved.
Andrea responds approximately three seconds later with about twenty different emojis.
The happy faces, love hearts, and clapping hands, I get. I have no clue what purple aubergines have to do with any of this, but hey, that’s Andrea for you.
I’ve just finished my second cup of coffee for the evening when my phonevibrates across my desk beside me.
I glance down at the screen. Unknown number.
I wouldn’t normally answer a number I don’t have saved in my contact list, but the sinking feeling in my gut tells me I know who it is before I’ve even swiped my finger across the screen.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Sienna?”
“Yes.”
“This is Ashton… Ashton Moore.” A friendly enough male voice. Not deep like Kael’s, but still, nice enough. “I’m Andrea’s friend. Well, we’re not exactly friends. We work together, share some office space. She gave me your number, but you know that already. Sorry, I’m babbling.”
He’s nervous. That’s a bit cute. “It’s fine.”
“I hope I haven’t caught you at a bad time?”
Dropping my head back on my shoulders, I stare up at the ceiling as if somehow summoning up the God of‘I can’t believe I’m actually going through with this’for some kind of divine intervention. “No, not at all.”
“Good, good… uh, yeah, so I’m just calling to see if maybe you might like to go out to dinner with me tomorrow night? If you don’t already have plans?”
I hesitate. And there it is. That awkward pause that I know he hears. So much freaking dread, I almost choke on it.
My mind instantly drifts back to Kael, and I squeeze my eyes shut tight, pushing his ridiculously handsome face as far away from my mind as humanly possible, deliberately ignoring the way his words from earlier warmed me in ways that can’t be normal, or healthy. Turning my back on all the feelings, so many. Too many to name. So much has changed, the bulk of which I’m still trying to wrap my head around, but the majority of it revolves solely around an arrogant rock star in all his muscle on muscles and eyes that don’t give up glory.
I blow out a sharp breath, trying harder to clear my head. This is getting ridiculous. I need to get Kael out of there. Vacated. I need the space leased to another tenant because the current tenant is causing way too much damage.
The only thing offering comfort to me at the moment is that Kael will be out of rehab soon. And then, hopefully, other than seeing him on the occasional magazine cover at the grocery store or on a billboard somewhere downtown, we’ll go back to the way things were before we met.
