Page 41 of Bloodlust

"I played baseball in college." He hitches a shoulder. "For a couple years."

"Really?" I ask dubiously. "I don't see it."

"See what?"

"You don't look like a baseball player to me. Doesn't fit your whole...vibe."

"My vibe?" He perks a brow. "And what's myvibe?"

I roll my eyes. He's making fun of me. Asshole. "Athletes are generally more...vibrant and, umm...easy-going in my opinion. You, on the other hand, look like you have a constant rain cloud hovering over your head."

"I guess that makes two of us." He cocks his head. "Perhaps we have more in common than you think."

"Are you trying to relate to me, Doc?" I stand up and stretch out my arms. "Hoping it'll help me open up?"

"There are benefits to standing on common ground." He leans back against the bench as I stretch. "What are you doing?"

"I don't like sitting for extended periods of time." I roll my neck before making direct eye contact with the doc. "But laying down?" I wiggle my brows. "I could be convinced."

"There's a couch in my office you can lay down on. If that's your preference for sessions."

"Not the kind of lying I was talking about, Doc." I give him a sly grin as my phone vibrates. "Maybe one day, I'll show you." I pull out my phone, cringing as all the texts from Zoey pop up on the screen, most of them telling me to call my dad back. Fuck’s sake. "Listen, Doc, I gotta go."

"Our session's not over yet." He pushes himself off the bench. "We have fifteen more minutes."

"It's a work emergency," I say. "Takes precedent."

"What's the emergency?" he asks shamelessly. "Maybe I can help."

"I doubt that." I laugh to myself. "But thanks for the offer. This is a mess only a boss can clean up."

"I see," he hums. "Does it have anything to do with what happened last night?"

I stiffen. "A little bit, yes."

"What exactly happened?"

"Nothing." I grab my jacket off the park bench. "Just a vendor trying to back out of a contract. It's fine. Happens all the time."

"I would hope it doesn't," he muses. "Otherwise, you might run out of mirrors to smash."

I peer up at him, my lip twitching. "Good thing you'll teach me how to control my frustration next time,right?" My phone buzzes again. "Shit. I'll see you later, okay?"

"Tomorrow," Hayden says. "At noon."

"Can't. Busy tomorrow."

He frowns. "Then when?"

"I'll text you when I'm free." I pocket my cell phone as I walk away. I crane my neck, adding, "And no more noon, Doc. I'd prefer my therapy with dinner."

"My hours are nine to five, Camilla," he calls out. "That's nonnegotiable."

I smirk. "You already made a late-night house call, Doc."

He adjusts his glasses. "That was an exception."

"Trust me," I say, putting on my jacket. "You're going to have to makea lotof exceptions for me."