Maybe I got that line wrong up there: It’s not that I just couldn’t fuck her, it’s that I couldn’t just fuck her.
Which leaves me fucked.
*
Dr. Cooper looked up at me after he finished reading, his eyes so sharp that I had to look anywhere but back at him.
“You know, Tack, some people might say that you haven’t yet grasped the reason why you’re here, as your writing sounds almost unapologetically sexual.” He ran his finger up and down the notebook’s metal spiral. It sounded like a zipper. “I think, though, that what you’ve expressed here is precisely what landed you in trouble.”
“I thought you were only going to skim it.” If I had known he was going to read every damn word, I would have written something a little… less honest.
“That was my original intent, yes. But not only was this short and to the point, several things jumped out at me about your state of mind and what we should discuss today.”
“Way to violate my trust, Doc.” I sighed and tried to shove my irritation aside. He opened his mouth, and I put up a hand to stop him. “But you’re right. I need to talk about the Jensen situation, and you’re a neutral third party.”
“Situation? Tell me why you used that word.” He sat back in the chair and steepled his fingers. Could he be any more of a stereotype?
“Because that’s what it is. She’s my first female friend, and I think I screwed it all up by getting her naked.”
“Was she unwilling?”
“Of course not. I would never force myself on a woman. Especially Jensen.”
He tilted his head and the stare intensified. “Did you have to do any persuading?”
I chuckled. “None. She said something like ‘It’s about damn time,’ actually.”
“She ever tell you to stop, or back off at all?”
I smiled and stared at the shelves behind Dr. Cooper’s head. “She told me she’d die if I didn’t hurry up and get her pants off.” I was lost for a moment, hearing her voice on rewind in my head, the zizzing sound of the doctor playing with the notebook’s spiral helping to put me right back in that moment.
“Tell me your opinion of Jensen MacKenzie.”
“I like her,” I said without hesitation. “She’s smart and witty, opinionated and argumentative—and pushy when she knows she’s right. She doesn’t let me intimidate her—ever—and when she’s upset, she puts bucketloads of sugar in her coffee. She’s sweet and beautiful, and I love the way her whole face lights up when she smiles.”
He nodded, motioning for me to go on.
“It’s like Jen reads my mind sometimes, and knows just what I need. And damn, the way she responded to everything I did yesterday blew my mind. We were so in synch it was scary.” I dragged a hand through my hair and blew out a breath. “I just really, really like her.”
Dr. Cooper leaned forward in his chair and looked me dead in the eyes. “You’ve described a relationship, Tack. Not a situation.”
I felt my head start to turn, negating his words.
“Hear me out, Tack. We talked last time about how you were indoctrinated into your sexuality, and you expressed in your journal that those women passed you around and set you aside after they got what they wanted. So now you keep the women you do get to know at arm’s length by making comments meant to alienate them a little. With female partners, you leave before you can be left. I get that. But your interactions don’t have to remain that way.”
I was back to staring over his shoulder. His words went against everything I’d built my life around.
“Jensen is not one of those women from the bar band, teaching a teenager about intercourse until the novelty wears off. She’s your co-host—now, your lover. You’d better figure out what you’re doing, and what it is that you want.”
I left with a million questions, and no good answers.
Jen’s Highlander wasn’t in the driveway when I got there. Served me right for procrastinating. It took me an hour to drive the fifteen-minute trip home.
She’d stuck a note to the front of the fridge. Checking on my condo. I’ll be back soon was all it said. She hadn’t even signed it. Though, who else would it have been from?
The place seemed so damn empty with her gone.
Yeah, yeah. I’m a walking cliché factory, but all good ones have their roots in reality, and man, was I ever steeped neck-deep in truth lately.
I guess I should have been grateful to have some more time to try and get my head on straight before seeing Jen again. I had so much to process, and I didn’t want to act weird around her. She’d notice, and, knowing her, she’d ask what was wrong. I had to have answers ready—for both of us.