Page 37 of Bloodlust

"Again with the games?" A dark cloud gleams in his irises. Stormy. Wild. Destructive. Like a hurricane about to touch down. But it doesn't. It fades as quickly as it comes. His posture relaxes as he continues, "The clock doesn't start until you are seated. I am a patient man with a rather empty schedule. The choice is yours."

"Really?" I let out a skeptical chuckle as I tap my nails on the underside of his desk. "Something tells me you're not a patient man at all."

Hayden hovers in front of the armchair, a glint of amusement tugging his upper lip. "Your intuition is off."

"It's rarely off."

"Really?" he asks, nodding to the couch. "Shall we test it out?"

"Test it out?" My interest piques. "And how do you suggest we do that?"

"Since you like games so much, why don't we play one," he says, circling the armchair. "I'll tell you three things about myself and you pick which one's the lie."

"Two truths and a lie? What are we? In college?"

"Could be fun," he hums. "I know how much you like your fun."

"Fine." I push myself off the desk and walk toward the couch. I sit down aggressively, letting out a dramatic sigh. "How do I know you'll be honest?"

"You don't know." Hayden sits down across from meand picks up a notebook off of the coffee table. He flips it open, grabbing a pen before looking up at me. "So, you'll simply have to trust me."

"Trust you?" I snort, setting my coffee on the table. "How can I trust someone I just met?"

"I can't help you, Miss Bianco, unless you trust me," he says, jotting down a note. "It's the foundation of therapy."

"I don't need therapy, Dr. Malcolm," I say. "I just need some tips."

"Tips are bandages," he notes, glancing at my fist. "How's your hand? Does it hurt?"

"No," I lie. "All healed."

He chuckles under his breath. "I see."

"I don't think you're supposed to laugh at your patients, Doctor," I say, crossing my arms. "Kind of rude, isn't it?"

He cocks his head. "So, you're a patient now?"

I roll my eyes. "I'm getting bored."

"Well, we wouldn't want that now, would we?" A cocky grin ghosts his face. "You don't seem to handle boredom well."

I sigh, closing my eyes. "I'm five seconds away from leaving."

He's quiet for a moment before I hear footsteps approaching me. "I have an idea. Stand up."

"What?" I open my eyes, looking at him as he towers over me. It takes a fuck-ton of self-control not to reach out and touch him. "Youjusttold me to sit."

"And now I'm telling you to stand." He holds out his hand. "Let's go."

"Go where?" I ask with wary excitement as I take his hand. My chest rises when our skin connects, like fresh air that has been blown into my lungs. His grip tightens slightly as he lifts me to my feet. He doesn't reply as he turns to grab something off the bookshelf. "Go where?"

"Outside." He turns around, a silk tie in his hands. "A little trust-building exercise."

I laugh. "What are you going to do? Blindfold me?"

He smirks, cocking his head. "That's exactly what I'm going to do."

I blink, taken aback. "A man usually buys me dinner before I let him blindfold me."