“I’m mad you walked out on me. I’m not mad you’re here.” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “You didn’t ruin my life.”
“Words, once said, are out there. No do-overs. It’s half the reason we have a job.”
He chuckled, opening blue eyes filled with some emotion she didn’t fully recognize. “You always couch the pain with humor?”
The truth slipped out before she could stop herself. “I’m afraid of what would happen if I didn’t.”
He cocked his head to one side. “What are you afraid of?”
She silently cursed herself. No way could she spell out for him her most basic fear. Behavioral conditioning—the theory that every behavior was learned—held that she might not be able to love because her childhood hadn’t taught her loving behaviors. Was that true? Had her mother’s choices doomed her to never experience love, to never give or receive it?
She fought to keep her breathing slow and even as her chest tightened and her lungs refused to work properly. No way was she pulling those questions out for his consideration, professional or personal.
Shaking her head, she laughed with intentional self-deprecation. “Oh, no. You’re not using me as a warm-up evaluation. Dig around in your patients’ heads, but leave my psyche alone. It’s perfectly happy in its screwed up little world.”
“I’m just curious.”
“No, Justin. We aren’t going there.” She sighed, slouching in her chair and stretching her legs, ankles crossed.
“I want to understand you.” He considered her long enough she fought not to squirm in her seat.
“There’s nothing to understand. Seriously.” She rolled her head back and forth, stretching her neck. “I’m simple and straightforward. What you see is what you get. Always.”
“No pretention?”
“No.” Her one-word answer was sharp and definitive. “I don’t have any interest in that.”
His gaze roamed over her body, lingering on her shoes. She’d found them at a second-hand shop, surprised to find the name-brand shoes in such good shape. Damn if she was going to admit she’d bought half of what she was wearing from thrift stores, though. It was none of his concern.
She crossed her legs with a seductive kick and leaned forward to glance at her shoes. “You seem to have a thing for my heels. Sorry. They’re not your size.”
He snorted, sliding lower in his chair and resting his hands over his abs. “I’m all about high heels.”
The way his eyes sparkled made her grin despite her unwillingness to play this game with him. “Cute. And for the record, dressing well isn’t pretentious. It’s called job security, Dr. I-Wore-a-Suit-and-Tie.”
One muscled shoulder lifted in a lazy shrug. “I didn’t say anything.”
“You didn’t have to. Your eyes gave you away, cataloguing my outfit right down to my accessories.”
“How do I fix this, Grace, this thing between us? Throw me a bone here.”
She wasn’t sure what to say. Even if she’d been confident, she didn’t know if she could’ve come up with the right words, words that wouldn’t have betrayed her miserably fragile state. Her gaze dropped to her lap and she fiddled with the hem of her skirt. “Don’t do this, Justin. Not now.”