3 new messages.
That’s three possible men I can be attracted to instead of Alexei. I’ll read the messages tonight and respond to anyone with potential. And I won’t google a certain hockey player to watch clips of him playing in games or being interviewed. That was a one-time thing.
It’s been a very long time since I had a man in my life. Clearly I need to work on that, so I can get Alexei Petrov off my mind. I can’t let my attraction to him continue, or worse—deepen.
8
Alexei
Graysen doesn’t look up from her phone when I walk into her office for our one-on-one session. She looks immersed in something, her legs crossed and her long blond curls spilling down her chest from being tucked over one shoulder.
I should say something to let her know I’m here, but instead, I glance over her shoulder to get a look at her phone.
“Love Lines?” I arch my brows with curiosity. “Haven’t heard of that one.”
“Oh God.” Color rises up her neck to her cheeks as she immediately closes the dating app and shoves the phone into her bag. “I wasn’t—I mean, that was nothing.”
I sit down on the couch across from the chair she always sits in, placing my water bottle on the coffee table in front of me. “Hey, it’s cool. I’m a dating app guy myself.”
“I’m not—I’ve never used one before but my roommate convinced me.” She won’t even look me in the eye. “Anyway, it’s nothing. How are you doing today?”
I sit back on the couch, enjoying her embarrassment a little too much. Graysen is used to being in control during our sessions. I have to expose things I never thought I’d tell anyone, while she listens and takes notes. It’s kinda nice to turn the tables for once.
“I was thinking last night,” I tell her. “We usually meet alone for at least sixty minutes a day, and then group is at least ninety minutes. I talk about me to you all the time. Can’t we talk about you for five minutes?”
The blush that hasn’t fully faded from her cheeks deepens into a dark pink. “I don’t know why you’d want to do that.”
“I’ve told you some really personal shit. Can’t I find out just a little bit about who you are? Make sure you’re not gonna sell me out to a tabloid?”
Her brows knit together and she frowns. “Alexei, I’d never—”
I put out a hand and grin at her. “I know. I was kidding. But give me five minutes, okay?”
She thinks about it for a second, then clears her throat and says, “Okay.”
“Have you met up with anybody on there yet?” I gesture toward her bag, where her phone is buried out of sight.
“No. I’ve exchanged a few messages, but that’s it.”
“Be careful. There are people with fake profiles on there.”
“I’m careful.”
“And be choosy. Don’t just settle for any guy who says the right shit. Lots of guys are on those apps just to get laid.”
She quirks a brow. “Hmm. Can’t imagine any guy would do that.”
My grin spreads. “Hey, I’ve always been up front about what I was looking for.”
“And women go for that?”
I shrug. “Yeah, you’d be surprised.”
“That’s a shame,” she says, shaking her head.
“Why is that? If both people are consenting adults, there’s nothing wrong with casual sex.”
“I see too many women undervaluing themselves. Thinking sex is going to lead to something more.”
“Sometimes it does.”
She gives me a pointed look. “Does it for you?”
“Uh…let’s see. Once. There was one time I slept with a woman the first night I met her and we kept seeing each other for a few months after that.”
“And how many romantic relationships have you had?”
I shake my head. “My five minutes aren’t up. How many romantic relationships have you had?”
She looks away, half-smiling and half-cringing. “Not very many. Three.”
“And how old are you?”
“I’m twenty-nine.”
That surprises me. Graysen is the kind of woman most men would kill to be with. It has to be by choice that she hasn’t been with many men.
“Why?” I ask her. “Are you a career girl?”
“I’m a career-minded woman, yes. I haven’t even been done with school for very long.”
“Ah, right. Doctoring takes a lot of education.”
She pushes the brim of her dark-rimmed glasses up on her nose and looks down at the legal pad on her lap. “Your five minutes are up. Let’s get started.”
“It’s only been four minutes and fifteen seconds.”
Graysen gives me an amused smile, making her green eyes sparkle. “Oh really?”
“Yep. I have a wicked accurate internal clock.” I resist the urge to wink at her.
“Okay.” She sighs softly. “Better talk quickly.”
“Why do you put up with Gia’s bullshit? Don’t you think you should assert your authority?”
“I won’t talk to you about any individual patient other than yourself, but I can tell you that generally, rehab is…hard. It’s rock-bottom for many people. They often feel ashamed, angry and helpless. Add into the mix that they’ve lost their means of coping with those feelings. I give patients room to get those feelings out. Anytime someone is hostile with me, I know they aren’t really directing those feelings at me.”
“You’re a good person.”
The words come out before I have time to even consider them. I’m not trying to flatter Graysen this time; I’m just being honest. I’d have put Gia in her place a long time ago if I were her.
Her blush is light pink this time. “Maybe I’m just a good therapist. I hope I am.”
“I think it’s both.”
She meets my gaze for a long second and I see gratitude there. I get the strong feeling she’s not used to being complimented, which floors me. But if she’s on dating apps, maybe that’s the case.
“Do you have family around here?” I ask.
She looks down. “No. No family anywhere really, other than some half siblings.” She gives me a small smile. “It’s time to talk about you, Alexei.”
“Okay. Ask me anything, I’m an open book.”
“How would you feel about your brother attending one of our sessions?”
“Uh, fuck that.”
“Should I take that as a no?”
I blow out a breath, clasping my hands behind my head to stretch my arms. “It doesn’t matter because he doesn’t want to come anyway.”
“Actually, he does. What makes you think he wouldn’t want to?”
“He’s pissed off at me.”
“You’re his brother. He loves you.”
I look down at the floor, a sinking feeling hitting me in the gut. “Have you talked to him? About me?”
“I’ve spoken to him, yes.”
“Jesus Christ.” I scrub a hand down my face and look up at the ceiling.”
“I haven’t disclosed anything we’ve discussed in our sessions, that’s all confidential.”
“You talking to Anton is fucked. Makes me feel like a goddamn lab rat. And the golden boy’s calling to see if the rat’s running through the maze like he’s supposed to.”
“All I’ve told him is that you’re still here and you’re doing well. Nothing more.”
“So that was a pretty short convo then, huh? About ten seconds?” I say, my tone clipped and accusing.
Graysen’s eyes soften. “I asked him about you, Alexei. I didn’t tell him anything, but I did ask him some questions.”
“Why the fuck would you need to do that? I’m right here. Just ask me.”
“Another perspective never hurts.”
I stand up, frustration coursing through my veins. “This is bullshit. All of it.”
“Why? Sit down and tell me how you’re feeling.”
“I feel the same whether I’m sitting or standing. And that’s pissed
as fuck. You know how it is between Anton and me. I told you in the beginning. He thinks I’m a massive screw up. Thinks he’s better than me.”
I head for the door, feeling like I’ve been blindsided.
“Alexei, don’t go. I think—”
I turn on her. “You’ve got me all figured out then, huh? Did Anton tell you I’m an ungrateful prick? That I don’t appreciate our parents’ sacrifices?”
“No.”
“Bullshit.”
“Will you please sit back down?”
Before she revealed she’s spoken with Anton, I would have. When it’s just me and Graysen, I’ve started feeling like I’m talking to a friend. And the way she opened up to me just now—even a little bit—added to those feelings.
But then she stabbed me in the back. No one’s ever judged me the way Anton does. I love my brother, but the thought of him coming here to lecture me makes me want to drink more than anything has since I got here.
So I leave before I say anything to Graysen I may regret later. I probably just trashed all the progress I’ve made in her eyes, but I have to be alone right now.
I walk to the Beckett Center’s swank gym and hit the track, still not able to run at full strength due to my hip, but in need of a release. It’ll take a lot of laps to calm my anger, but that’s okay. It’s not like I have anything else to do.
9
Graysen
I groan and set my phone on the kitchen counter, pushing it out of my line of sight.
“What?” Amelia asks me, looking up from her bowl of ramen.
I hope that handbag she’s saving for is worth dying of high blood pressure. She’s been on an all-ramen-all-the-time dinner diet for weeks now.
“Jake keeps asking me to get together.”
“Yeah, that’s kind of the idea with online dating. Did you just want to exchange messages for the next twenty years?”
“I don’t know.” I sit down across from her and reach into the deli bag I brought home with a sandwich and a cup of soup inside for dinner. “I just really don’t want to go on a date.”
“Why not? From the messages you’ve shown me, he sounds pretty great.”
I glare at her as I pull the plastic lid off my cup of soup. “Exactly. Doesn’t everyone? Hey, I’m Jake and I love kids, dogs and hiking. Check out my attractive photos and by the way, let’s get together so you can find out my real name’s Jeffrey Dahmer and I want to wear your skin after I cut it from your dead body.”
“Oh my gosh. You did not just say that.” Amelia rolls her eyes. “You need this ramen more than I do. You’ve got a raging case of PMS.”
“I’m not PMSing,” I snap.
“Are too. We’ve synced up cycles, remember?”
I ignore her, biting into my pastrami melt. Sometimes it’s a pain in the ass that she knows me so well. Setting my sandwich down, I busy myself emptying the contents of my bag.
“Just meet up for coffee or something,” Amelia says.
“Why the hell do they give me two sets of cutlery and two mints every time I order a full size sandwich and a cup of soup?” I rant. “Like that’s really so much food it has to be for two people?”
“I feel ya, girl. Sometimes a bitch is hangry.”
“Fuck them. I’m never going there again.”
“Ohmygod, Graysen,” Amelia says, laughing. “Will you just tell me what’s wrong? You’re never this pissed off.”
I take another bite of my sandwich, stewing over my feelings.
“I had a bad day,” I finally say.
“Yeah…?” Amelia gives me an expectant look.
“A patient who’s been making great progress stormed out of his session this morning.”
“The hot one or the married one?”
I regret telling her I found one of my patients attractive. Since she knows I have two men and two women, Amelia can figure out things with Alexei pretty easily now.
“The hot one.”
“That happens, though. Sometimes expressing anger is progress.”
I sigh. “He was angry at me, though.”
“Did you deserve it?”
I shake my head. “All I did was talk to one of his family members.”
“Sounds like he’s just a hothead.”
“Not usually, but today he was.”
“He’ll be back tomorrow.”
I nod, about to take another bite of my sandwich before setting it down instead.
“My mom called me this afternoon,” I say softly.
“Oh shit.” Amelia gives me a sympathetic look. “How’d that go?”
“Same as usual. I mean, there’s always a new variation, you know. This time she’s got an opportunity to live at a commune in California but needs $5,000 to get in.”
“Uh huh,” Amelia says skeptically. “And you told her no.”
Amelia knows all about my mom. She’s lived with me through every phone call and unannounced visit. She’s the only one who knows the truth—my mom is still around. I use the term “mom” loosely with her, though.
“How’d she take it?” Amelia asks me.
“Dramatically, as usual. She told me I might as well put a gun to her head and pull the trigger, because I’m basically killing her.”
“By not cutting her a check for $5,000?” She rolls her eyes.
“Yep. She says this commune is her last chance. That it’s all about total wellness and finding your soul goals.”
Amelia snorts out a laugh. “Soul goals?”
I just shrug; it’s so not the weirdest thing my mom has ever asked me for money for.
“She’s a piece of work,” Amelia says, looking over at me. “You know you were right not to give her a dime.”
“I know.”
“But it’s still draining, I know.”
I nod, grateful for her. She may know exactly when I have PMS, but she also knows about my past, and she doesn’t judge me for it.
“Why did you pick up the call?” she asks.
“I don’t even know. I’ve ignored them for the past couple months. She only calls every few weeks usually. And I just…I don’t know, sometimes I’m weak and I worry she’s lying in a gutter bleeding out somewhere.”
“I get that.” After a beat of silence, her expression brightens. “You know what would help?”
“Chocolate?”
“Yeah, that too. But I was gonna say you should agree to meet Jake. What if he really is as great as he sounds?”
“Ugh, I don’t know. I don’t have anything to wear.”
“Yes, you do.”
“I’m just bad at dating.”
“Gravy, listen to me.” Amelia’s blue eyes are round and serious. “You aren’t. Chris was an asshole and he made you doubt yourself. You need to get back out there. Maybe this guy isn’t the one, but you need to at least try.”
She’s probably right. Even though it really sucks that she is. The thought of walking into a restaurant and having a man give me that head to toe visual inspection makes me want to crawl under a rock.
I’m not thin. I decided a long time ago that good food is more important to me than abs. I’m probably a good twenty-five or thirty pounds overweight, and I don’t care. But will this guy Jake feel the same way?
“I’m going on my third date with Paul this weekend,” Amelia says.
“The surgical resident?”
“Yep.”
“That’s good.”
“He’s a total gentleman. I kinda want to tell him it’s cool to jump my bones if he wants to.”
I laugh. “Maybe he really likes you and doesn’t want to rush things.”
“I guess. I’m just not used to it.” She walks over to the counter and picks up my phone. “Message Jake and tell him you’ll meet up for a drink.”
I reach for the phone and open the Love Lines app. He’s a construction project manager with a nice smile. I guess meeting him over a drink wouldn’t hurt.
“Fine,” I mutter as I type out a respo
nse. “But I’m not wearing Spanx.”
* * *
The next morning, Gia sits down on the couch in my office, her trademark glare in place.
“Good morning,” I say to her. “How’s today going so far?”
“I’m still in this prison, so…shitty.”
She got her hair colored and had a facial in prison yesterday, but I don’t mention that.
“I spoke to your parents yesterday and they’d like to come to a session with you soon.”
“They can fuck off.”
I try another approach. “When is the last time you remember things being good between you and your parents?”
Gia scowls. “When I was in the womb.”
“Why are you so angry, Gia?”
“My mood’s none of your business.”
I suppress a sigh. “Do you even want to be here?”
“No, but I have to be. You’re the only thing standing between me and my inheritance.”
I set my pen and pad down on the side table next to me. Gia isn’t going to tell me anything worth writing down anyway.
“I want to help you. If I just put you through the program, you’d go back to the lifestyle you had before.”
“There’s nothing wrong with my lifestyle,” she says bitterly. “I like sex and blow, so fucking what? Rich people don’t have to go to college and work every day like you do.”
“You don’t have to work a job to have more in your life, though. Don’t you have hopes and dreams beyond drugs and sex?”
“Not really.”
I exhale hard, a few moments of silence passing before I say, “Look. I want to help you. I’m doing my best. But if you don’t want the help, we’re both wasting our time. You should just move on.”
“I can’t.” Her voice is laced with venom. “I’m not losing my inheritance just because you’re a stuck-up bitch.”
I’m at my wits end with this patient.
“No other therapist would think you’ve made progress either, Gia. You’re confrontational and angry in every session. You show no remorse or desire to change. The problem’s not me, it’s you.”
A smile plays on her lips, her dark eyes alight. “And yet, you’re going to keep me here and let me graduate.”
Alexei Page 5
