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“No, not yet,” he said. “But give me a week and I’ll have one.”
I gazed at him for a moment and shook my head. “For whatever reason, I believe you.”
“Because I’m fucking good at what I do,” he said.
“Watch that ego,” I said. “It’ll trip you up someday.”
There was a scuffing sound from the bedroom and the door pushed open. A blonde woman and a slender, shirtless man, both in their mid-thirties, walked out and stopped short.
I turned. “I didn’t know you had guests.”
“Yeah,” Caden said. “I do.”
Another woman, older than the others, appeared behind them and froze. I stared at her for a moment until I realized that I recognized her. It had been over ten years, but I had definitely hooked up with her at some point even though I couldn’t remember her name.
“Oh,” I said. “No, you’re right. Bad time. I’m leaving.”
I grabbed my coffee and ducked out. He followed me into the hall and shut the door.
“Hey, when are you sending me out to Wyoming?” he said.
I paused on the stairs. “After you get the funding.”
He put his cigarette to his lips and expelled the smoke. His dark blue eyes were distant as he fixed them on me. “Good,” he said. “I’m going fucking crazy in this city. I need some space, something to work on. There’s only so many orgies I can attend before it gets boring.”
“Please don’t,” I said, wincing. “And wear a condom.”
He laughed, shaking his head. “Learned that the hard way, huh?”
I sobered. “I got lucky,” I said. “I’m proud of my son.”
He rarely wanted me to treat him like he was my son and I knew I’d make him uncomfortable with that statement, but I needed him to hear it. He nodded once and went back into the apartment, shutting the door.
I sighed, a bolt of fear shivering down my spine. I’d tried to be patient with him for years, I’d done everything his way. It was the least I could do after he’d grown up without a father.
But deep down, I was so fucking scared that we would go on like this forever.
CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
CLARA
I sat cross-legged on the floor. Gretchen was in her chair, twirling her pen. We’d just started our first session and I could already tell why Merrick liked her. She was nice and she hadn’t blinked when I asked her for a cup of hot chocolate with whipped cream.
“I probably need a lot of therapy,” I admitted.
She took a sip of her herbal tea.
“That’s alright,” she said. “Let’s get started with me asking you some questions. I find that can be more helpful with clients who’ve never had therapy.”
“Okay,” I said, settling back. I’d worn my favorite pink sweatshirt and shorts. My feet were bare, my sandals laying by the door.
“How’s your sex life going?”
I felt my brows shoot up.
“My methods can be unorthodox,” she said. “I want this session to be about the things you love, the things that give you joy.”
“And next week?”
