Page 65 of None Of Your Business

Bastard.

He knows exactly what he’s doing.

“I liked you better before you knew things about me.”

He turns and starts down the hallway, getting a few feet before he realizes I haven’t moved.

“Where are we going?” I ask, eyeing his back.

“Observation room.”

My stomach dips. “That’s your creepy room. One-way glass, dim lighting, people being watched. Creepy.”

He just keeps walking. “Cara already approved it.”

“Wait.” He stops and looks over his shoulder. “You asked her?”

“This afternoon.”

“You assumed I’d come?”

“It’s Tuesday.”

That does something irritatingly warm to my chest.

He tips his head toward the door at the end of the hall. “You coming?”

I shift my bag higher on my shoulder and follow.

What choice do I have? I need the inspiration.

The observation room is smaller than I expected. A long pane of one-way glass takes up most of one wall, facing the therapy room. Two monitors sit on a narrow desk beneath it, one displaying a session log, the other a set of graphs that mean nothing to me. Two chairs sit in front of the glass, very close together.

I move toward the second chair, then pause. There’s a thick seat cushion on it and a lumbar support strapped around the back.

“What’s that?” I ask.

He doesn’t look away from his monitor. “A cushion.”

“I know what a cushion is.”

“Then this is going well.”

“You did this?”

“I put them there, yes.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re going to be sitting here for an hour.”

I run my fingers over the edge of it.

Something tightens in my throat. I don’t like it, so naturally I ruin it. “Is this our second date? It feels romantic.”

“It’s a cushion.”

“And a lumbar support. Very sexy.”