“Okay, I don’t need details,” I say, holding up my hand to cut her off. She deserves happiness. “I’m just glad things are going well between you two.”
“Me, too.”
“I hope it continues.”
She shrugs. “Only time will tell. I’m used to disappointment, so if it doesn’t work out, I’ll get over it. I always do. For now, I’m going to enjoy the ride, and let me tell you it’s one hell of a ride.” I laugh when she wiggles her eyebrows.
Walking over to where I’m sitting, she leans down and kisses my cheek. “Sometimes you’ve got to take chances in life, Em… and to hell with the consequences. Throw caution to the wind. You never know what you might be missing out on if you don’t.” She gives me a knowing look, and I get the feeling her words are somewhat directed at me. “I better be going, are you sure you don’t want to come?”
I shake my head, although a part of me wants to go so I can see him again, but that’s exactly why I can’t.
“Gray’s going to be upset when I turn up without you… he’s probably not the only one.” She winks, and I know she’s referring to Ashton. “But I understand why you don’t want to come.”
“I’m sorry. I hope Grayson doesn’t get upset with you.”
“Pfff,” she says, waving it off. “I already told him you probably weren’t. He messaged me today, trying to get me to convince you, but I’m not going to force you into something you’re not comfortable with. I’ll always have your back, Em.”
“Thanks, and I’ll always have yours.”
“I know. I’m going to miss not having you there, though.”
“I hope you have an amazing time, regardless.”
“You can count on it.” She smiles as she digs in her bag for her keys before picking up the Key lime pie I made for her to take, off the countertop. “I’ll see you tomorrow, babe, and thanks for the pie.”
“Grayson’s not picking you up?”
“He offered, but I’d rather drive. He wants me to stay the night and you know I don’t do sleepovers. At least when I’m done with his sexy-ass body, I’ll have my vehicle to escape in.”
I’m sitting on the sofa reading over the file of a new patient. Her name is Savanna, and she’s thirteen years old. Her family recently moved to California from Oklahoma in an attempt to get her away from her present situation. Her previous psychologist’s notes and medical records have been forwarded to me at her parents’ request.
I met with her parents earlier today, just to touch base and get a grasp on things before I see her next week. It helps to have their insight because it can take a while for the kids to open up and trust you.
They seemed lovely and overwhelmingly concerned about her welfare. I don’t blame them, she’s now refusing any medical treatment for her eating disorder despite the graveness of her situation. She told them she’s ready to die. I haven’t been able to get her off my mind all afternoon, and I pray I can help her.
She’s been bullied relentlessly for the past two years about her weight. Hence, why she’s resorted to starving herself. I know firsthand that’s not the answer, a skinnier version of herself won’t make her less of a target. These kids will find something else to tease her about. Bullies are like that, they prey on the vulnerable.
Gulping down the huge lump that’s formed in the back of my throat, I read over the notes from her previous sessions. My heart breaks for her and everything she’s had to endure thus far. Some of the cases I deal with are way too close to home for me, and this one is no exception, but that’s why I chose this profession to begin with.
A loud knock on the door startles me. Glancing over at the clock on the microwave, I see it’s just after nine. Carla left over an hour ago—surely she’s not back already.
Gathering the papers spread out before me, I place them back inside the folder, closing it.
Before I get a chance to stand, the banging continues. “Jesus, hold your horses,” I mumble under my breath as I rise.
Unlocking the door, I slide it open as far as the safety latch will allow. My stomach drops when I see who’s standing on the other side. He’s the last person I expected.
“What brings you to this side of town?” I say in the bitchiest voice I can muster. “You’re slumming it, Barclay.”
“I’m in no mood for your smart mouth, Emma. Get dressed.”
“Excuse me.”
“You heard me, I’m here to collect you.”
“Collect me… collect me for what? I’m not going anywhere with you.”
A cocky smile forms on his gorgeous face, and it takes everything in me not to open the door fully so I can slap it right off.
“You’ve got five minutes to get dressed, sweet-thing, or I’ll come in there and dress you myself.”
I gasp. “You will not.”
“Try me,” he says.
I close the door, sliding the latch out of its runner before swinging it wide open. Who does this guy think he is?
“I already told Carla I wasn’t coming tonight.”
Ashton’s gaze moves down my body, and I instinctively tug on the hem of my T-shirt, dragging it further down my legs. He has me so riled up, I’ve forgotten I am half-dressed.
A smile tugs at his lips as his eyes snap back to mine. “And I’m telling you, you are.”
“You can’t boss me around like that. If I don’t want to go, I won’t.” I cross my hands over my chest as I speak.
He looks down at his watch. “Four minutes and thirty-three seconds.”
I stand there like an errant child refusing to budge. I almost want to stomp my foot but refrain. My skin tingles with the intensity of his stare. Why does he have to be such a gorgeous bastard?
Ashton takes a step toward me, so I retreat one of my own. I need to keep my distance. I’m weak when it comes to this man.
“Four minutes, Emma.”
I narrow my eyes.
“And if you think for a moment I won’t come in and dress you myself, you’re mistaken.” He raises an eyebrow, challenging me.
I arch one of my own as I remain unmoving.
Our standoff continues until he finally blows out a long breath. “Please, Em,” he says, his facial expressions softening. “You don’t have to talk to me or even sit near me. I just want you there.”
Ashton’s words hit me straight in the chest, knocking a slight crack in the newly-erected walls around my heart, ones I’ve spent the last two weeks rebuilding.
Damn him and his sweet words.
Huffing, I turn and storm toward my room. “Bossy, stubborn ass,” I mumble under my breath as I slam the door behind me.
I rest my head against the wall as I fight the inner turmoil that’s raging through me.
Carla’s words from earlier swim in my mind. “Sometimes you’ve got to take chances in life, Em… and to hell with the consequences. Throw caution to the wind. You never know what you might be missing out on if you don’t.”
My head is telling me to barricade the door and bunker down for the night, but my heart is telling me something completely different.