Elle’s mouth twitched at the corner, at attempt at nonchalance but one that she didn’t quite pull off. “She’s beautiful.”
“That’s her job.”
“She likes you.”
He sighed. “That’s my job.”
“Right.”
“Elle…”
He reached out for her, wanting to break through whatever wall she was standing behind. “Talk to me.”
Her throat flexed as she swallowed. “We should get going before the restaurant gets too crowded.”
A pit settled in his stomach. She was slamming the door on the conversation, a dangerous path in this situation. But he could see he wasn’t going to get anywhere with her right now. Maybe she needed a little time to process what she’d seen. They could talk at dinner. “Fine. I’ll follow you there.”
The festive atmosphere of the restaurant with its mariachi music and beer bottle chandeliers didn’t help lighten the stilted conversation over dinner. Elle talked about work and asked him about school. He told her about an interesting lecture he’d gone to today. But all through the meal, he could sense the crackle of tension underlying every word. He wanted to ask what was going on in her head, wanted to reassure her about what she’d seen tonight, but she shut down that lane of conversation every time he put a word in that direction. He decided it’d be best to wait until they got to his place or hers, where they could discuss it privately.
After he paid the bill, they made their way back out into the night and he walked her to her car. “Do you want to stay at my place tonight? It’s closer and the traffic heading to The Grove isn’t bad in the morning.”
Elle turned to face him, keys clutched in her hand. “I don’t know.”
“You don’t know if you want to stay at my place?” he asked carefully. “Or you don’t know if you want to stay together tonight at all?”
She pressed her lips together and held her elbows, her entire posture closing to him. “You smell like perfume. Not my perfume.”
So there it was. He frowned. “I can go home and shower. My client hugged me because it was our last session. That’s all.”
“This time. But what about tomorrow or the next night?”
He released a breath and ran a hand over the back of his head. “Elle, I don’t know what you want me to say. We talked about this. This is my job. That’s all it is, I swear. The only woman I want is you.”
She shook her head and he could tell she was trying not to cry. “Jun Alexis is being referred to you.”
“What?” Marin had told him earlier today that a new client was being added to his schedule, but he hadn’t even had a chance to look at the file to know who it was or what the treatment was going to be.
Elle glanced away. “I stepped away from the case for obvious reasons, but I caught myself watching her today in group. I couldn’t stop imagining you two together. Jun, whose album you love. Jun, who’s fifteen years younger than I am. Jun, who made you laugh and who was completely enamored with you.”
“Jun, who I have zero percent romantic or sexual interest in.”
She blinked, her eyes shining, and wagged her head again. “I hear what you’re saying and I believe you. I do. But I don’t know if I’m tough enough for this, Lane. I want to be but…” She pressed her hand to her stomach. “I feel sick inside. I smelled that other woman’s scent on you tonight and I just wanted to scream.”
“Elle.” He stepped closer, tried to reach for her, but she waved him back. He took a breath, reeling in the panic that shimmered through him. “Look, I know this is hard, believe me. I’m not pretending it’s not. I’m asking a lot of you—the ultimate trust. But this is what my job is.” He touched her cheek, encouraging her to meet his gaze. “All I can do is swear to you that none of them are a threat to us. I will treat Jun like a client. That’s it. There’s only one woman I want to be with.” His heart picked up speed as heavier words hovered on his tongue, in his heart. “The one I’m falling in love with. You.”
Saying the words aloud sent a bolt of fear through him and a wash of vulnerability, but they were the truth. He wanted her to hear them.
“Lane.” Elle closed her eyes, tears brimming at the edges and her anguish apparent. “I want to be with you…but I don’t think I can do this.”
The words were like razors to the gut. He reached out and cupped her shoulders, his heart squeezing tight in his chest. “Tell me what you need from me, doc. Tell me what I can do to help.”
A few long moments passed, but then she lifted her head, her eyes red-rimmed. “You could quit.”
The suggestion was like a bucket of ice water over him. “What?”
She wet her lips, her whole body trembling beneath his touch but her gaze earnest. “You don’t need to do this. You said it yourself. This isn’t your ultimate goal. You want to be a therapist. It’s going to take twice as long with you working so much while you’re in school. If you need it, I could…help.”
His mouth turned dry and he lowered his arms to his side. “Help.”