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His lips thinned and he looked away before giving me an abashed smile. “In your office. Inside the Comprehensive Textbook of Psychiatry by Kaplan and Sadock.”
I shook my head with a chuckle.
“How long?”
“Long.”
“Bastard. What if someone else had found them? What if I had?”
“I put the book back on the highest shelf,” he said, giving me a smirk, “and there are two copies of it.”
“Can I read the letters? I might notice something?”
“Sure,” he said.
“Thank you, Asher.”
“Thank you for the food.”
He gave me a quick grin—this one not so broken—as he stood up.
Grabbing my bowl and his, he walked toward the kitchen sink. The sound of water filled the silence stretched between us as he washed the bowls, dried them, and put them on the shelf before he turned to me, and it almost looked like this could become a part of my life, a part of my broken routine.
“I should go.” His voice was reluctant. “I have to, but I don’t want to.”
A small part of me wanted him to stay.
Without a word, he pulled me up and sat me on the table. My protest died when he took my chin and pressed his lips against mine. When he moved back, he was smiling. “We’ll finish this during our one-on-one session.”
“In your dreams, Asher.”
“In my dreams, you were naked and begging me to taste you.”
“Get the fuck out,” I said, pushing him out of the kitchen, and out the door, as he laughed his fucking ass off.
“Are you suddenly shy, Sharma?”
“Fuck no. I’m…” It was embarrassing, to say the least. “Just leave, and be careful.”
“You too,” he said. “I’d usually say lock your door, but keeping it locked is going to do nothing to protect you. You need to find something sturdy. Good night.”
The next morning, I walked to the kitchen and poured a tall cup of coffee.
I loved my chai dearly, but some mornings were torture without coffee.
Closing the cottage door behind me, I took the trail toward Hollowhaven. Soon, the compound came into view, along with familiar faces weeding the garden. They looked peaceful, untouched by the voices and nightmares that often haunted them.
“Hi, Diya,” Vincent said with a smile when I walked into the building.
The woman and the man standing next to Vincent, talking with Becca, turned around in sync.
They looked like they’d walked straight out of a glossy magazine. She was in a gorgeous summer dress, her blonde hair shining in sunlight. He was dressed in a sharp suit that screamed custom-made.
I recognized him immediately. The slightly older version of Vincent.
“Mayor Bricks,” I said. I had met him once when I first came to Hollow Heights.
“Doctor Sharma, it’s nice seeing you again. How long has it been?”
