Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 56416 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 282(@200wpm)___ 226(@250wpm)___ 188(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56416 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 282(@200wpm)___ 226(@250wpm)___ 188(@300wpm)
A calm comes over me, and I nod. “I’d like that.”
Before he can ask me anything else, I ask him the one question that I’ve been thinking about since I first laid eyes on him. It’s true that all therapists are different, but I’ve never seen one that looks like him. He’s built like he works out, not like he sits in an office all day. And honestly, he doesn’t really talk like any therapist I’ve been to either. “How did you get into this? Cuddle therapy, I mean.”
He shrugs. “Well, it sort of just fell into my lap.”
I nod. “Right, I get it. Modeling was the same thing for me.”
He leans forward. “Really? Tell me about that.”
“I’m originally from Whiskey Run, but after graduating high school, I moved to Jasper to put some distance between my mom and me. I was working at a coffee shop, and someone came in asking me if I’d be interested in modeling. They had a new plus size line they were hoping to promote. I thought it was crazy at first, and way out of my comfort zone, but I was barely able to pay rent. I was living on butter noodles, and I had to force myself to go through with the audition.”
“Do you enjoy it?”
“Uh, I guess. It’s weird, really because that’s the only time where I feel really confident and in control. It’s like a switch turns on and I’m somebody else. It helps me sometimes deal with my ‘issues,’ but is it my dream job? No, not really. I’ll have to figure out something else soon.”
“Something else?” he asks. I’m surprised he’s not taking notes, but I don’t ask him about it.
“Yeah, well, I’ll have to retire soon.”
“Retire? You’re only twenty-five,” he says, surprising me. Maybe he has a photographic memory or something because I find it hard to believe that he looked at my intake sheet and just remembered that.
“Twenty-five might as well be sixty when you’re talking about modeling.”
He looks skeptical. “What are your plans for after?”
I blurt out a laugh. “Uh, I wish I had some.”
He smiles indulgently. “Well, what would you like to do?”
“Honestly?” Almost wistfully, I tell him, “I want to be a wife and have kids.” I laugh and hold my hand up. “I probably just set women back fifty years by even stating that out loud, but I can’t help it. Maybe it’s because I didn’t have a family—not a real one—when I was growing up. I want people that I belong to… I want people to love me and be able to love them back.”
His eyes darken, and he bites his lip. It’s almost like he’s holding something back.
I laugh, feeling the heat on my cheeks. “Go ahead, laugh. It sounds crazy, I know.”
He shakes his head, blinking at me. “It doesn’t sound crazy at all.”
We’re staring at each other, and the connection is intense. I can feel the heat from his gaze from my head to my toes, and I can’t stop the tremble of my body.
“Are you cold?” he asks.
I shake my head and stutter, “No. I’m fine.” I look at the clock on the wall, and I can’t believe that my hour is almost up. The time has flown by. “Uh, it looks like it’s time for me to go.”
“Wait, uh, can I ask a few more questions?”
“Sure.”
I settle back into my seat and wait for him to begin. There are a thousand things I want to ask him, but I don’t. For some reason, I have to keep reminding myself that this is therapy instead of a first date or something.
“Are you safe?”
I scrunch my nose up. “Am I safe?”
He clears his throat and nods his head. “Yeah, anyone bothering you?”
I’m not totally understanding the question or why he’s asking it, but I answer him honestly. “No one is bothering me.”
He smiles and asks his next question. “Okay, and your dad? Is he leaving you alone?” My dad was mostly out of the picture once I got into high school, but he did come see me the first time he saw my picture on a billboard. He seemed to have thought I had money to give him or something, but I’m not sure why King is asking about him.
“I haven’t seen my dad in over a year. When he found out I wouldn’t give him money, he disappeared again.”
His nostrils flare, and almost angrily, he asks, “And boyfriends?”
Surprised, I ask, “Excuse me?”
He sits up a little taller and shrugs as if the question is no big deal. “I’m just curious about the status of your current relationships. It will help me better understand the timeframe and what we’re dealing with.”
“Okaaaay,” I drag out. “Well, I don’t have a boyfriend. In fact—geez this is so embarrassing. It’s pretty safe to say I’ve never had a boyfriend.”