‘No, you jerk.’ I can’t help but smile as she tries to contain herself before delivering what I’m positive is good news. She doesn’t last long. ‘They accepted it! They want me to present there.’
‘That’s great news. When is it?’
‘A few weeks from now. Isn’t that awesome?’
‘I’m proud of you, Cat. You told anyone else yet?’
‘Dally. He was sitting right there when I got the email. I can’t get hold of Maya though.’
My gut pitches.
‘She’s the one who convinced me to submit, so I’ve got to let her know.’ She sighs. ‘I really wish you two got along better so we could all hang out more often. It’s been years since that stupid Vegas incident—’
‘How about we celebrate tomorrow morning?’ I ask, cutting her off. No more Maya talk. ‘You choose the place.’
She makes a happy squeal. ‘Perfect!’
‘Just tell me where to meet you.’
‘Okay. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Love you!’
‘Love you too.’
None of the guys in the room crack a joke at my open admission to Cat. It’s not like I’d care if they did. When you lose someone unexpectedly, a few things snap into clarity. For me, telling my little sister I love her is one of those things. I didn’t get the chance to say it to Mom and Dad, but I won’t blow it with Cat.
Speaking of which, I’ve got less than twenty-four hours to figure out how to handle this Maya thing in Cat’s presence …
The alarm goes off, ending that line of thought. Time to focus on the job at hand. Maya can wait.
Chapter 2
‘Maya,’ my therapist asks, ‘why are you pacing?’
I turn again, wishing I was on stage where I could hear the click of my heels on the wood floor instead of silence on this plush carpet that sucks all sound from the room. I’m wringing my hands like freaking Lady Macbeth and there’s a strange, gnawing hole in the pit of my gut.
‘Maya?’
I growl and force my hands to my sides. ‘How do I handle this?’
Doctor Blathe, an older woman with a gentle face that reminds me of a modern day spoonful-of-sugar swilling nanny, looks up from her notepad. ‘What exactly do you mean by “this”?’
‘This … thing with …’ I grit my teeth when Jake’s naked body invades my mind again. ‘You know …’
‘I’m not sure I do,’ she says calmly.
‘Him.’
‘Ah.’ She jots down a note and flips back a page. ‘Jake?’
‘Yes.’
‘You can say his name, you know.’
I blink. ‘What?’
‘Did you know you have only referred to Jake by name five times since our sessions began?’
‘Really?’ I preen a little, proud I haven’t mentioned him more often.