"Do you mind if I eat?" I smiled. She shrugged, still completely frigid and detached.
I sat across from her at her desk and took out my lunch. "So are you from Washington, Avery? Or did you move here from somewhere else?"
She didn't respond, just looked at me. The contrast between her auburn hair and striking blue eyes was fascinating, even when she was shooting ice-cold daggers at me.
"Come on, give me something."
She sighed. "Born and raised here."
I smiled but quickly wiped it off when I noticed her annoyance.
"Your parents must be glad you stayed close to home."
Her frown deepened. "My parents are dead."
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be. It was a long time ago."
"Are-"
"Are we here to talk about me or you?" She cut me off, sensing another question coming on.
"I'm just building a trusting relationship with my therapist."
She narrowed her eyes and quietly watched me eat. As soon as I crumpled the wrapper from my lunch and tossed it in the trash, she rose from her desk. "We've wasted enough time. Let's get started."
She grabbed a notepad and pen and led me over to the couch. She sat in her black, tufted, high-winged chair and crossed her legs.
"Do you have trouble falling asleep or staying there?" She jumped right in. She was all about being a professional, and I was waiting for my opportunity to shake her up.
"If I have a friend to keep me company, then I have no problems getting to sleep."
"So you use sex to get to sleep."
"You say it like there's something wrong with it."
"Nothing's wrong with it, but it's just a coping mechanism." She nervously bit on her pen with that comment. She was probably remembering the text she'd sent me the other night. "Sooner or later you're going to have to deal with the underlying problem." She scribbled in her notepad, then continued. "So after you … cope-"
"I prefer fuck." I cut her off.
She glared at me. She wanted to respond, but that would involve breaking her professional stance. She took a deep breath and kept her comment sealed behind her tight-lipped grimace.
"How long are you sleeping afterward?"
"I really think you would be a lot more informed if you just observed-or participated in the whole process." I grinned. She ignored my comment. Again.
"Do you drink alcohol to get to sleep?"
"I'm a recovering alcoholic, Dr. Shaw. Which I'm sure you know since you keep updated with reliable entertainment magazines."
"Someone told me not to believe everything written in those."
"Smart person."
There was a trace of a smile on her face. Maybe the ice queen routine was thawing.
"So you say your insomnia started when you came back to town. Are you aware of anything that would trigger this? Family issue? Anything traumatic associated with coming home?"
"No."
"You're not even trying."
"You asked me a question and I answered it."
"Way too quickly. You didn't even think about it. If you don't want to talk to me about what's keeping you up at night, why are you here?"
"Because I enjoy your company."
"This is a waste of my time, Mr. Pierce. Maybe you should make another appointment when you get serious about this?"
"Oh, I'm serious, Dr. Shaw. I seriously would like to stop playing this game."
"What game?" She's in denial.
"Can I ask you a question, Dr. Shaw?"
"By all means." She looked at her watch. "We're still on your dollar."
"In your professional opinion, would you agree that denial is a big problem with your patients?"
She nodded.
"Your job is all about getting people to open up and be honest."
"Seems to be the crux of the matter with you, Mr. Pierce."
"It's Xander." She glared. I continued. "So it would only be fair that you be honest with me before I can open up. You know … the building trust thing again."
"Are you going to get to the point?"
"I need to know how long you're going to keep denying this attraction between us."
"There's no-"
"Wait … " I leaned forward, resting my forearms on my thighs, tilted my head, and studied her intently. "Just know, whether you deny it or not … we're going to fuck, Avery."
"Mr. Pierce-"
"I thought we were past the formalities."
"It's the only way to maintain any professionalism with you!" And just like that, she broke out of character. She surprised herself with that outburst, but it was exactly what I intended. Her demeanor before had been rigid, and she'd covered herself in a shroud of professionalism that was more of an iron-clad shield. A shield she'd put up to block my advances. Her skin flushed, and she breathed raggedly-angrily.
"Since I'm paying you to be professional, I insist you call me Xander. Besides, I like the way my name sounds rolling off your tongue. And that look you get when you say it … "
"There isn't any look."
"Oh, there is … because each time you say Xander, you say it in this breathy whisper and you cross your legs together as if that will help the ache you're feeling in your pussy."
"Mr. Pierce … " she said in a warning tone I chose to ignore.
"Then you get this faraway look in your eyes. Tell me … what are you thinking about, Avery? You see it, don't you? The images of us, hot, sweaty, fucking like-"
"Xander!" She jumped out of her seat and walked straight to the door. "We're done here."
She held open the door, waiting for me to leave. I considered using other tactics to get her to admit to her attraction to me, but I knew I'd pushed her too far already. She wouldn't even look me in the eyes as I passed her, and the door slammed shut as soon as I made it across the threshold.
I pulled my phone out as soon as I got to the car and dialed the one person who'd get me anything I needed to know about Avery.
"Hello?" Marcus answered.
Marcus was my agent, best friend, and sometimes private investigator because he had a way of finding things out about people.
"I need you to check someone out for me."
"Who? And more importantly, why?"
"Her name is Dr. Avery Shaw. I'm seeing her to help me get to sleep."
"You can't sleep? I thought it was getting better."
"Not since I came back here."
"I told you, you should've bailed weeks ago. Why are you sticking around and going to a shrink? You do know if the press gets ahold of this, you'll be a drug addict and mentally unstable."
"I don't give a fuck. Just check her out for me."
"Do you think she'll leak info to the press?"
"No, she's not like that. She's … "
"She's what?" I didn't respond, and after an awkward couple of seconds of silence, Marcus got it. "Oh … you have a thing for your therapist, and she shut you down."
"She didn't shut me down."
"Yes, she did." He laughed. "The great Xander Pierce is cock-blocked by a woman with professional decorum. And now you think you can dig into her life so you can figure a way in."
"Can you do it or not?"
"I'll look into it, but only because I want to know who you're trusting with your deep, dark secrets."
"Thanks." I hung up, but we both knew I would never trust anyone besides Marcus with my secrets.
Sexual Misconduct
Avery
"Dr. Shaw?"
I pressed the intercom button on the phone to respond to Angela. "Yes?"
"Mr. Pierce is here to see you."
"Please inform Mr. Pierce that his appointment is for next week." I heard Xander arguing, then trying to charm his way in, and laughed when Angela shut him down. I'd purposely pushed his appointment forward a week. Maybe with the extra time, he'd be ready to open up. Or maybe I was the one who needed the time. As much as I'd like to pretend Xander was creating an imaginary connection between us, it was there. I just wasn't going to acknowledge it, no matter how much he tried to shove it in my face.
I walked over to the coffee pot and poured my second cup, but really, it was an excuse to look out the window and watch Xander leaving. The second he came into sight, my pulse quickened. He wore dark blue jeans, black boots, and a white Henley that clung to his body. From three stories up, his aura was powerfully affective. Even his stride as he crossed the street was more of a sexy prowl.
He pulled open the door to the café across the street as I put my coffee cup against my lips. He held it open as a woman pushed out a stroller, and just before stepping in, he turned and looked up my way.