Best of 2017
I need more. So much more.
“Please,” I beg and he answers my pleas by crawling up my body.
A ragged gasp echoes through the room. His fingers are the catalyst for my frantic desire. His hand slips between us, aligning himself with my core.
Urgency fills my blood. The need to feel him inside me is all I can think of.
Greedily, I grab at his hard length, teasing my sensitive skin.
He pushes forward, and when he enters me, he takes my breath away.
My head falls back on the pillow, and my lids flutter shut as he takes me over and over again.
With each push and pull, I lose myself more to the feeling.
“Open your eyes. I want to see you. I want to see all of you.”
As they flutter open again, I get lost in a sea of blue. The entire world drifts away.
Through gasps and shudders, the connection is broken. Through trembles and sobs we hold each other. My body clamps around him.
His hands dig deeper into my flesh as his whole body jerks inside me.
Preston leans in and kisses the soft hollow of my neck, soft lips, tantalizing tongue.
“I keep doing this, and I feel like I’m taking advantage of you. I want you, I want you more than you will ever know, but this was supposed to be about more than my pleasure. This was supposed to be about me helping you.”
“You did. By being here. By opening up. By telling me your story. Every part of you that you gave me, helped me.” He looks away from me. “What is it, Preston?” He won’t look at me. “Just tell me.”
“Eve.”
“No, you don’t get to Eve me. Not after that. You know it meant something. You know it meant more. Can you see that?”
“We still can’t be together. I’m your doctor.”
“You’re not my doctor anymore.”
“Semantics.”
“How can you say that after everything? What we have, it means more than that. How can you push me away now? Are you scared? Is that it? Scared of what I could become? That I could be like her? Because of my father.”
“I am scared. But not of that. I’m scared of everything else, all that we have done, and everything you’ve learned, it would be all for nothing if I do this. If we continue down this path. Even though you’re no longer my patient, that doesn’t mean I won’t get in trouble if we’re found out. I could still lose my license to practice. I wouldn’t be able to volunteer at the hospital anymore. I wouldn’t be able to help people. And to be honest after, what we just found out about your father, this is even a stronger case for transference. Between losing Richard and now the repressed memory surfacing of your father, you could be unknowingly projecting your feelings of abandonment to me. You could be looking for an older figure to protect you and until you, know you’re not, that it’s not transference you’re feeling, we can’t.”
“Please don’t let me go. You’re all I have.”
“But that’s the problem. I can’t be your crutch. You need to learn to hold yourself up.” His words hang in the air. They steal the oxygen like a poisonous gas, slowly killing pieces of me.
“So, now what?” I say, still lying in his arms. Our hearts still beat in tandem.
“We go back to the way it was before.”
“And how was that?
“Me wishing every day that I could rewrite history, and that I never walked into the hospital for work that day.”
I have wishes too, but mine I won’t speak . . . Say I’m enough. Sacrifice for me. Fight for me. Wait for me.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
PRESTON
I HAVEN’T SEEN Eve for three weeks and I’m miserable. So fucking miserable that basically all I’ve done since I told her we couldn’t be together is work and be completely anti-social.
I finally successfully pushed her away and severed our professional and personal relationship, and I should feel relief for it, but I don’t. Instead, she’s all I think about, day and night. I feel all the things I thought I would never feel again. All the things I tried to shut out all these years after I lost Sloane. But this is different. It’s so much worse, because the way I feel for her is so much more.
With my glass of scotch in my hand, I flop my body on the couch. Just as I start to relax, my phone vibrates across the coffee table. I know who it will be. It’s going to be Jace. I peer down and low and behold, I’m right. It’s him. Since I haven’t been to the last three Sunday night dinners it’s no wonder he’s calling. Avoiding my family like the plague has obviously not gone unnoticed.
“What,” I answer, not even pretending to hide my attitude. I’m not in the mood for a lecture about how Mom wants to see me again. That was last week’s call. I know already.
“What the hell is up your ass?” Everything.
“Nothing.”
“Is this about that girl?”
“She’s not “that” girl. She’s not some girl,” I blurt out before I realize what I’m saying. Shit. Now he’s going to ask questions.
“Okay, spill. It’s time to tell me what the hell is going on with you?”
“I met a girl.” I let out a deep ragged breath. “It’s more than that, though.”
“I’m listening,”
“She was my patient.” There I said it, the truth is finally out there. No more avoiding the truth. Now all I can do is brace for his response, for his judgment.
“Fuck.”
“Yep.”
“So now what are you going to do?” There’s nothing in his voice but concern, and it make my shoulders drop in relief. It’s bad enough losing Eve, but having Jace disapprove would have sucked right now.
“I had to let her go.”
“So what’s the problem?”
“I want more,” I admit on a sigh.
“Yeah, I can see how that could be a problem. I understand, but don’t you think some things are worth risking everything for? I don’t know who this girl is but if she’s the one Logan won’t stop talking about, I would say she’s worth it.” She is.
“It’s not that easy.”
“Why the hell not?”
“Well other then the obvious, her being a former patient and all, there’s also the small problem of Sloane.”
“What about her?”
“Well maybe I’m suffering from counter-transference?” I whisper. I can still hear Eve’s words replaying in my head. Was this because of Sloane? Was Eve some sick sort of replacement?
“I think it’s time you go back and start speaking to someone again. The fact that you’re even considering that, means you aren’t over what happened. I think this girl is special. I think that she might be worth risking it for, but you’ll never know until you face your issues about Sloane.”
He’s right. I have to. When Sloan died, it left a stain on my soul, one that years later has still not left me. Sloane called the day she overdosed. I was mad at her, so I sent her to voicemail. She needed me and I didn’t answer. I should have seen the signs. I should have answered the phone. That decision still haunts me every day. And although I don’t believe my feelings for Eve are misguided, I still need to find out. I need to know, not just for me but for Eve as well.
THERAPISTS REALLY DO MAKE the worst patients. Sitting here waiting for Dr. Audrey Kenner to speak is agonizing. I’m ready to bolt out the door, when I finally see her pull out her notebook and turn to me.
“Why are you here? You haven’t seen me in quite some time. Did something happen?”
I consider what to say. I can’t tell her about Eve. Or at least I can’t divulge that she was a patient, so I come as close to the truth as I can without stepping over the edge.
“I met a girl.” My teeth gnaw at my lip as I determine how to proceed. “She looks like Sloane and she’s been through a lot. She’s . . .troubled. I’m afraid my feelings might be misplaced.”
“Do you think you are falling for her in an attempt to heal her, to fix her the way you weren’t able to fix Sloane?”
“I’m not sure.”
“When did you start having these feelings for her?”
“I always thought she was beautiful, but when I saw her, the real her, I knew she was more than a pretty face.”
“And when was that?”
“When she made my nephew smile.”
“I think you just answered your own question, Preston.” I quirk my brow at her and wait for her to continue. “You didn’t fall for her because she was weak, you fell for her compassion, her strength, her resilience. When she was able to put her own sadness aside and put your nephew first.”
She was right. Everything she said was right. This was more than Sloane. I fell for her . . . I’m in love with her.
“I have to go.” I need to tell her.