“Jesus,” Dominik whispers, empathy infusing his face.
“It helped you to open up to her, didn’t it?” Aaron asks.
He’s my best friend. Can’t lie to him. “Completely. I owe a lot to her for trusting me with her confidence. Made it a lot easier to talk about my shit, you know?”
“She seems pretty amazing,” Dominik says thoughtfully, his eyes moving over to where she’s sitting. “Got your grumpy ass halfway smiling again.”
All the guys chuckle, accepting the moment of levity because the situation had gotten way too serious.
But then again, the shit that seems to surround me tends to be serious lately. I’m grateful for the moments where I can just laugh with my team right now.
“Well, we got some more work to do,” Aaron says, swinging his legs out from the picnic table and grabbing his empty plate.
Dax and Legend get up as well, ambling off to the garbage cans and grabbing more water bottles from the coolers.
Dominik doesn’t move, though. I wonder if he’s going to call it a day or head out to work with us in the field.
Thoughtfully, he stares off in the distance. I don’t like to think about what calculations he might be making in that brain of his.
Finally, he says, “I’m really glad you landed here with Nora for your counseling.”
“Me too,” I agree, thinking Dr. Dumbfuck would have most likely made things worse for me.
“Have you thought about asking her out?” Dominik asks carefully.
Startled by the suggestion, I suck in air and actually choke. When a coughing fit ensues, Dominik casually passes over his bottle of water for me to take a sip. I chug it, using the few moments to help clear my thoughts and calm myself down so I don’t call him a dumb fuck once I’m able to breathe again.
He just watches me impassively, waiting for me to say something.
When I do, I try to play it cool. “Excuse me?”
“Ask Nora out?” he repeats.
“Why would I do that?” I ask, offended. “She’s my therapist, for God’s sake.”
Although damn if I don’t find myself drawn to her for so many other reasons than she’s a great listener and gives amazing advice.
A rush of guilt floods me, and I feel as if I just betrayed MJ by having that thought.
Fuck.
“Who cares if she’s your therapist?” Dominik says blandly. “I’m sure you two wouldn’t be the first to break rules like that.”
This is ridiculous. I cock an eyebrow. “You do realize it’s you who required me to seek counseling to stay on this team, and now you’re actually trying to sabotage it, right?”
“No,” he says firmly, shaking his index finger. “I’m not trying to sabotage it at all. Merely trying to point out something I think could be good for you both. You two obviously have a good connection. A bond even.”
I hate him for saying that shit out loud, because the minute he did, he opened the possibility up to me. I don’t know if my head would have ever gone there on its own, but now I can feel it taking root. It doesn’t help I’m enamored of her. Attracted to her physically, too.
But that’s all stuff I’ve kept compartmentalized because I knew the importance of appreciating her as a counselor.
Fuck Dominik, but now he’s making me wonder.
He swings his legs out from the picnic table, tapping his knuckles on it for effect. “Not even going to tell you to think about it, Tacker. Just keep an open mind.”
Lifting my chin in acknowledgment, because he owns the team and I don’t want to be disrespectful, I make it seem like I’ll do just as he asks. However, there’s no fucking way I’m going to think about Nora like that.
No way.
No how.
Dominik leaves, heading in Nora and Raul’s direction. They both stand and shake hands with him when he gets there, which indicates he’s going to be leaving soon. While his words unsettled me just now, I still can’t help but be extremely impressed by his personal interest in this team. Coming out here, bringing Nora that tractor… I hate to admit it because I’m pissed about where he just went with Nora and me, but damn it… he’s a good guy.
Regan walks by, pausing to ask if I need anything. I still haven’t eaten much yet, so I take a seat at the table and a rib in hand, I shake my head. “Just five minutes to eat, and I’ll be ready to get back out there.”
“Okay,” she says, starting to move off.
But then something strikes me. Something I’d been thinking about for a few days but had been struggling with. “Hey, Regan.”
She pivots. “What’s up?”
“I actually need some help baking something tomorrow morning,” I say.
Regan moves a few steps closer, frowning at my statement. “Baking?”
“Yeah… a cake,” I clarify. “And well, I suck at anything involving baking or cooking. I could use some help.”