“Sure. Davis, you said?”
“Yes.”
There was the muffled sound of clicking, then a pause. “Ava?”
“Yes.”
“That bill has been canceled.”
“Canceled? Why?”
“It doesn't say. Dr. Hunter is in with a patient right now, would you like me to leave a note for him to get back to you?”
“No,” I said quickly. “Thank you.”
“Have a good night!”
I hung up, staring down at my phone for a second.
“What did they say?”
“That the bill was canceled.”
“Canceled?” she asked, putting her polish wand back in the bottle and screwing it.
“Yeah.”
“Shiiiit, girl,” she said, shaking her head.
“What?”
“Seriously?” she asked, rolling her eyes. “You know what? I ain't even gonna tell you,” she said, walking out into the living room. But I knew where she was going. To Jake's room. She hadn't spent a night in our room in days.
I sighed, running a hand through my hair.
He couldn't just... not accept payment.
That was ridiculous.
He offered a service. I used such service. He needed to be paid.
Before I could talk myself out of it, I slipped into my shoes, grabbed my wallet and keys, and left the apartment.
Then went straight to the bank. If I was quick enough, I could get there before the top of the hour. When he would be done with his patient. I got my three thousand dollars, tucked discreetly into a plain white money envelope, and made my way to the garage, parking, and hauling ass to the front door.
My heart was hammering in my chest as I tiptoed across the floor, as if the sound of my flats could rouse the people behind a closed door. I was trying my damndest to not think about where I was. About what had taken place all around me. By the door. In his office. In the bedroom. Every inch of the place felt etched with a memory.
I reached out to put the envelope with his name down, and the door burst open.
“Thank you so much, Dr. Hudson,” a woman's voice said and my head snapped over. And there was the blonde from the club. Different outside of the tight dress and makeup, but still pretty. She was looking over at Chase, whose eyes were focused on me.
“Ava?”
The woman's face looked at me, then back at Chase, her eyes brightening as a smile toyed with her lips. “I will see you next week,” she said to him, giving me another quick glance as she made her way to the door.
I watched her dumbly for a few seconds, before shaking my head, dropping the envelope, and starting to make my way to the door.
“What is this?” Chase said, too quickly for me to claim I hadn't heard him, I was barely a few feet away.
I took a breath and turned. “That,” I said, my tone a little sharp, “is your payment. Which was apparently and, I assume... mistakenly, canceled.”
God, why did he look so perfect? Literally. Head to toe male perfection.
Black suit, white shirt. One button.
“You were just going to leave three thousand dollars in cash on the reception desk?”
“You always seem to be... the last one out. I figured you would find it first. But yeah. So, now you have it. And, I'm... I'm gonna go.”
“Ava,” he said as I turned, making me freeze. My name always sounded way too good on his lips. “It wasn't a mistake.”
I turned slowly. “What?”
“It wasn't a mistake. I am not billing you.”
That made absolutely no sense.
None.
Unless...
No. Nope. Not going there.
I needed to keep those hopes and pipe dreams squashed.
“Why not?”
Chase sighed, running a hand down his face. “I need a drink,” he said, turning and going in through his office.
And, damn it, there was no fighting following him.
I walked into the room, keeping my eyes on the sidebar and no where else. I was absolutely not thinking about all the ways he had touched me on the couch and the bed. Nope.
“Here,” he said, handing me a martini I hadn't asked for.
He threw back his scotch and put his glass down.
“Can you come sit down with me for a minute?”
I eyed the couch almost suspiciously, nodding. I chugged my drink and followed him over, sitting down with a cushion between us.
“I'm not billing you,” he said, watching me.
“You said that. You haven't said why.”
“Fuck,” he said, rubbing his brow. He looked up, about to say something, but his eyes squinted, like he was really seeing me for the first time since I walked in. “Have you been crying?”
Not that day. Not yet.
But there was no way to say no to that question.
“Chase, answer my question.”
“Answer mine.”
I sighed. There was no arguing with him. “Not today,” I said.
“Why were you crying at all?”
“You already had your question.”
“You're impossible,” he said, shaking his head. “Ava... it would be wrong to bill you for those sessions.”
“How would it be wrong? You did what you were supposed to do.”
“Yes and no.”
“How no?”
“Because I pushed the lines of professionalism.”
“What because you like... went to my apartment? Or fed me?”
“Yes, those things but...”
“But what?”
He gave me a smile, shaking his head. “Tell me why you were crying first.”
No.
God no.
Anything but that.
I hung my head, my hair falling forward like a curtain. “Chase...”
“Baby, tell me...” he said, his hand landing on my thigh.
Maybe it was the 'baby'. Or the hand on my thigh. Or his refusal to let me pull back into myself... but I didn't want to lie.
“Do you remember when I was drunk and you came over and I started blabbering about Dr. Bowler?”
“Something about something being fake. But maybe not. But maybe yes. You were pretty wasted.”
I sucked in a breath, looking at his hand on my knee. “Yeah.”
“What was Dr. Bowler right and wrong about?”
Okay. I could do it. Be a big girl and spit it out. I mean... what harm could it do? I was already suffering.
“I went to see her about my sessions with you...”
“That was a good idea.”
“Yeah, well. I went to see her because I was... having some issues.”
“With our sessions?” he asked, his eyes looking almost sad. “Babe... why didn't you tell me?”
“Because I wasn't sure if what I was experiencing was what I thought it was. Dr. Bowler... well, she confirmed it.”
“Confirmed what?” he asked, his hand squeezing my knee harder.
“That I had transference.”
There.
It was out.
Sort of.
Half of it was out.
His blue eyes flashed. “Transference. You thought you were having transference?”
“Yeah,” I said, swallowing. “But, um, it turns out I wasn't.”
“Baby... what are you trying to say here?”
Okay.
Time to spit it out.
“I didn't have transference. I... I was in love with you.”
He looked stricken.
His eyes got wide, his mouth opened slightly, his hand stopped squeezing my knee. He swallowed hard once, looking down for a second, before his eyes found mine again. “Was?”
“Am,” I said, shrugging.
“You're in love with me?”
“Yes.”
“Fuck me,” he said, closing his eyes slightly. “Fuck me...”
“Chase...”
He needed to say something other than that. I couldn't even tell what that meant. Was it surprise? Anger? What?
His eyes opened slowly. “I couldn't bill you, baby... because this wasn't therapy.”
“What?” I asked, my brows drawing together.
“I mean... we followed the schedule, but it wasn't therapy.”
“What was it then?”
“It was... courting. It was genuine attraction and mutual feelings and...”
“Mutual feelings?” I asked, feeling a tiny light flick on inside of me. On a switch I swear I had cemented over.
“Baby... fuck,” he said, taking both of his hands and raking them down his face. “I knew the second I saw you sitting on my couch that first day that this was different. This wasn't a job. I wanted you. I wanted you more than I have ever wanted anyone. And just how you were. Shy and modest and anxiety ridden. I wanted that girl. And then... when you started coming out of your shell around me, letting down your guards, letting me in... I wanted you even more. Every moment with you was like the first time. It was real, Ava. It was real for me. It wasn't work.”
“Chase... what are...”
“I love you, Ava,” he said, shutting me up. His hands moved out, cradling my face. “I have never loved anyone. No one. I wasn't even sure I knew what it was until I found you.”
Oh, my god.
Seriously... oh my god.
Then, because it was the only thing to be said, I whispered back, “I love you too, Chase.”
His eyes closed on an inhale. “I never thought I was going to get to hear that. I thought...” he shook his head. “There was a time when I had hope that you felt the same way.”
“When?”
“Anytime I touched you. When you kissed me. When you dressed up for me. When you said my chest was your spot. When you called it the safest place in the world... but I didn't let myself think... or hope... that it was true.”
“It was true,” I said, giving him a small smile.