settled into the surprisingly comfortable leather. “Sorry, I don’t have any chocolate to offer you. I should put a bowl out.”
“I’m tempted to take the coward’s option and delay our discussion.” She scrubbed a hand over her face. “But we’d better get down to business. There’s only so much we’ll be able to fit in my five sessions, and I’m afraid that’ll hardly be enough time to scratch the surface.”
“Why do you say that?” Luke turned his back, not pressuring her to respond but inquiring idly as he poured them both a tall glass of tea from the pitcher on the lacquered side bar. Ice clinked against the gorgeous crystal, adding to the luminosity of the space.
“Because I’m pretty screwed up.” No sense in beating around the bush.
“We all have our moments, Brielle.” Something about his huff made her curious.
“You?”
“Of course. Sometimes more than others.” He handed her the tea, then rubbed the nape of his neck. Part of her nearly volunteered to do it for him. How could he affect her like this? No one ever had. And after Brad, she thought no one ever would. Just being around him was a relief.
“Thank God.” She grinned when his eyebrows raised. “Everything about you, this place, seems so unblemished. I wasn’t sure you could understand.”
“Try me.” He surprised her by sitting beside her instead of in one of the chairs across the coffee table. “Do you mind?”
“No.” Brielle was pleased to find it was true. “You don’t have to ask. If you freak me out, I’ll let you know. It helps to feel less…alone.”
“I agree.” He nodded. “It’s easy to let life overwhelm you when you shoulder all your burdens single-handedly. I’m fortunate to have good friends, ones I’ve known for years, but lately it seems I can’t share with them without risking their feelings. Being gagged like that… It’s miserable.”
Knowing he could relate helped her divulge her secrets. “Exactly. It was such a relief to have the hotline operator to talk to the other night. Things get particularly bad in the dark. When I can’t sleep. And I lie there and think. Too much. It was easy to whisper my fears into the phone, and reassuring to know someone was listening, even if she couldn’t do much to help.”
“I know what you’re saying. Still, I think the operator did a pretty damn good job of assisting. After all, you’re here. Doing something different about your problems. Finding a new solution. Something better than getting by. I assume you’ve suffered for some time?”
“Yes. Years.” She swallowed hard, unable to say more.
“Then at least this is a step in the right direction. What you’ve been doing hasn’t resolved your issues. I hope we can work toward that goal together.” Genuine concern tinged his wish. At least she assumed it did. If not, he was a world-class actor in addition to a renowned psychologist.
“I have a phobia,” Brielle blurted.
“You’re not afraid of heights.” He smiled as she stared out the window, scanning from soaring birds to pavement in order to avoid looking into his eyes.
“Nope.” She laughed. “Small favors.”
“I wondered when you didn’t take the elevator. Some patients are scared of falling.” He sipped from his glass.
Brielle couldn’t help but stare as condensation gathered then dropped from the tumbler onto his chin. His Adam’s apple flexed when he wiped the beads from his stubbly chin. He paused to scratch at it.
“Your goatee is dark.” Speaking aloud hadn’t been her intention. The anomaly caught her off-guard.
“Weird, right?” He laughed. “I’ve never grown the thing out before. But lately, I don’t know, I guess I’ve felt like making a few changes myself.”
“Keep it.” Her smile reflected his. “No one can be perfect, you know. At least, not without annoying everyone around them.”
“Is that so?” He grinned.
“Yes. You need some idiosyncrasies. As long as you don’t go
Rebecca Hamilton, Conner Kressley