Dirty Sweet Wild (Bad Billionaires 2)

It should be a stupid idea. She was a stripper—who wasn’t worthy of a stripper? But it wasn’t a stupid idea. At all. “I don’t know about worthy,” I hedged. “I just know I’m a fucking mess.”

“You’re not as bad as you used to be,” Dr. Weldman said softly. “And you’ll be even better if you keep coming back to see me regularly.”

“Yeah, well, I’ll see what I can do. Maybe I can clear my busy schedule.”

Like Helen, Dr. Weldman was used to my pissy moods, and they never seemed to affect him.

“You said you started coming back to your sessions because you came into some money,” he said. “Tell me about that.”

The money. I didn’t want to talk about the money. It was going to make me feel sick again. But shit, that was why I was here, right? “My friend Devon inherited a lot of money.”

Dr. Weldman nodded. He knew all about Devon, since he knew my life story, and I’d known Devon since I was six. “I take it he shared some of his good fortune with you?”

I made myself say the words. “He shared five million of his good fortune with me.”

There was a pause, and I wondered if I’d surprised him. He didn’t let on. “You seem tense when you say that,” he observed. “Many people would be pleased.”

I shrugged. “It’s more than I’ll ever need. More than I ever expected.”

“So it’s a sudden change, then. I see. What did you tell Devon when he gave it to you?”

“I told him to fuck off and take it back.” I looked at the ceiling. “Some friend I am, right?”

“I’d say Devon sees you as a perfectly good friend,” he said, with so much reason I wanted to punch him in the mouth. “He wouldn’t give five million dollars to a terrible friend. I’d say he sees something in you that you don’t see in yourself.”

I shook my head. I didn’t want to know what Devon saw in me—what anyone saw in me. “He thinks I’m an asshole,” I said. “And so does this woman, especially since I showed her my leg.”

“Did it work?” he asked.

“Did what work?”

“Scaring her off by showing her your leg. Telling her about you.”

When he put it that way, it sounded like Gwen and I had had a nice heart to heart. “She just kind of shook her head,” I said.

“And? Did she say anything?”

I sighed, reluctantly dredging up the memory. “She said that it was a miracle, but she finally found someone more fucked up than she is.”

There was a moment of silence. Dr. Weldman cleared his throat. “And how did that make you feel?”

I shot another glare at him. “You’re laughing. You think that’s funny.”

His face was blank, but he cleared his throat again and avoided my eyes. “You have to admit it’s a good line,” he said.

I sank down in my chair and ran my hands through my hair. “This is fucking unreal.”

“Are you going to call her?” he asked.

I stared at him yet again. “You think I should call her.”

“I think you should do whatever makes you comfortable. Whatever makes you happy.”

“This is why everyone hates therapists,” I told him. “They talk in ci

rcles.”

“Max, I’m here to help you through some serious trauma, not to give you advice on your love life.” He paused. “But if you do date her, you should probably use condoms. Your doctor was right about that.”