Page 65 of My Grumpy Alpha

But she’s strong for a human and she doesn’t let go and her eye contact makes me uncomfortable.

I sigh.

“I will control the bad thoughts and angry feelings. I am human. I am normal. Normal people get angry, shout it out, say it loud, rage is normal, getting help means you know the problem and want to be the solution. I am the solution. I will be okay. I have control.” I want to say, better?

She pats me on the hand.

“Was that so hard?”

One hundred percent the most difficult thing, I might even compare it to wrestling a bear even though I’ve never had the opportunity.

“No.” I’m very good at lying to my therapists. What time is it? Is her date over?

"Good.” She starts rubbing the back of my hand.

“Now I have some sad news, I’m relocating to a different location, and won’t be able to do your treatment, so we’re bringing in Maximillian, but he goes by M.”

"M?” I frown.

“So he’s new?”

As she says this and releases my hand, a guy with thick dark blonde hair and black Ray Bans walks in, his jeans are ripped, he has a very tiny and I do mean tiny white t-shirt attached to his torso. He shoves her nameplate from the desk and adds his, then folds his hands and stares at me.

“Me. I’m M.”

"A guy?” I point at him.

“My next therapist is a guy?”

She pats my shoulder.

“We just think, trying everything to help you get over your…sensitivity, might be great, and he’s trained in anger management from Duke!”

"That’s an actual program?” I’m flabbergasted.

"Sure is, little buddy." He smirks at me.

I’ll end him.

I lunge.

“See.” My old therapist holds me back.

“That was a test.”

“Little dude failed.” M chuckles.

“But we’ll try next week, for our first hour-long session.” The guy pulls out a box of licorice from his Mary Poppins bag from hell and tugs on the end.

“Can’t wait, bruh?”

I almost yell I’m not your bruh, instead I stomp over and stare at the tub of licorice.

“Gonna take five. Candy tax, you understand.”

"Take ten.” He grins.

“Sugar’s good for the soul, and you probably haven’t eaten due to the anxiety of having to come in here and talk…” He crooks his finger.