Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 71202 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 356(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71202 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 356(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
I know why people are so resistant to counseling. I always understood the mechanics of it, but feeling it for myself offers me a firsthand experience of wanting to crawl back into bed and hide from it all.
Dr. Alverez isn’t the problem. She’s the consummate professional.
I know I can speak to her while she maintains complete confidentiality.
What I’m not certain of is whether or not she’ll also report me for unethical behavior if I’m completely honest.
I know today’s focus will mainly be on what happened in Costa Rica, but for her to get a full understanding of where my head is at, I’ll also need to include what has happened since returning to the States.
She’s not a priest. She doesn’t need a confession, and I don’t feel the need for absolution.
But at the same time, I’m struggling.
My emotions are in hyperdrive, and it not only scares me, but it also confuses me.
I’m not a coldhearted person. I feel things. I’ve gotten good at analyzing my own emotions and dealing with them as they come.
Recently, however, things are muddled for me.
For the first time in a long time, what I should do and what I want to do are in conflict with each other. I’ve never been one to indulge in things I know won’t turn out the way I need them to. I’m not hedonistic in that way, but I can’t let go of what I felt when I was spending time with Aro.
Knowing my session with Dr. Alverez is going to be stressful, I’m wondering if I should take my bike into town or one of the SUVs as I leave my room.
“Hey,” Ugly says the second I step out of my door.
I’m not startled by his presence because I’ve never felt safer than I do in the clubhouse, but it’s weird for him to be hanging outside of my room.
“Are you being a weirdo?” I ask before I can stop myself.
He cocks an eyebrow at me. The guys give each other shit constantly around here. They rib each other and call each other names, but I’ve always distanced myself from that sort of thing because I know they all think I’m judging them every time we’re in the room together. It comes with the job, but I do my best not to alienate any of them.
“Me?” Ugly asks, pointing a finger at his own chest. “I’m not the one who’s been muttering to themselves for the last ten minutes.”
I narrow my eyes at him while trying to remember what I might’ve said. The man already has his suspicions about something going on between Aro and me, and that’s one of the few things about Cerberus that annoys me sometimes. Everyone thinks they have a right to be in everyone else’s business. They take the we’re a family a little too far when it comes to private matters. Cerberus gives new meaning to the phrase, there are no secrets in this house.
“I was singing,” I lie as I walk past him. “Ever had a song stuck in your head? I’m annoyed at myself at this point.”
“What song?”
I stop in my tracks, my lips moving as my brain tries to scramble to come up with a lie.
He chuckles, shaking his head as he walks ahead of me.
“I’m here if you want to talk about it.”
I’d rather shove hot needles under my fingernails than talk to anyone, but I’m also well aware that within the hour, I’ll be spilling my guts to Dr. Alverez. I’d never open my mouth to talk about my problems with anyone on the team. I know that makes me a hypocrite because I fully expect that, at some point, one of them will feel comfortable enough to confide in me.
It also makes me feel like a liar because I should disclose to Kincaid what happened in Albuquerque.
I’m glad I don’t run into anyone else as I leave the clubhouse, opting to drive an SUV into town rather than risking getting on a bike if I’m upset after my session.
***
“You love him.”
Her declaration hits me in the face fifteen minutes after the session begins.
“I shouldn’t,” I tell her, refusing to look in her direction.
Confessing anything to anyone’s face is stressful. Doing it with a colleague, someone I respect, would be impossible.
“What would you tell one of your clients?”
“That you can’t help who you have feelings for.”
“So long as…”
“It’s safe, sane, and consensual.”
She hums her agreement.
“It’s insanity to think that getting involved with someone you work with will ever work out.”
“Is there a power imbalance?”
I tilt my head, finally looking in her direction. “In the bedroom?”
Her chuckle makes me smile. “At work.”
“Not really. He isn’t my superior, but he was sort of technically my patient.”
“Sort of technically makes no sense, Brynn. Do better.”
I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling at her serious tone.