“THC is a proven anti-inflammatory pain reliever, and there’s no hangover.” Unlike this alcohol of which I’ve had too much. I need to eat something.
“Why didn’t you just smoke a joint?”
“It’s a non-smoking room, Joselyn. Anyway, I don’t like the smell of smoke, particularly pot smoke.”
Her chin dips, and she exhales a laugh. “I’m not often surprised, but you’ve surprised me. I never expected you to be such a rebel.”
“I’ve got seven years on you, Sin.” Taking one of the salmon rolls off the table, I pop it into my mouth. “You can’t possibly know all there is to know.”
She slips her hand into the crook of my arm. “It’s okay to be vulnerable. You’ve been hurt.”
“I don’t do vulnerable. If I appear to be on guard, it’s because my partner has already seen fit to slap me in the back, and I don’t know who might try to do it next. Fucking Miles. Probably trying to ensure he wins our next match.”
“Oh no! He didn’t!”
“He did.”
“I’ll get Daisy to tell him to stop hitting you in your injury. He seems to listen to her. And I’m available for follow-up treatments. I told you I’m rebuilding my client list.”
We walk around the statues, and she takes a flute of champagne. The light glistens off the creamy skin of her shoulders. They’re broad and elegant, and I’m struck by how perfectly proportioned her body is. I already knew this, but her dress accentuates it.
She’s a work of art.
“You’re very beautiful tonight. This white and gold combination suits you.”
My voice is gentler, and she glances up at me from under her lashes. “Thank you. I know you don’t give out compliments freely.”
“Only an idiot gives out compliments freely. Or a person who wants something.”
“And you want nothing from me. Don’t worry. I remember.”
She’s so wrong.
I want to hold her again. I want to wrap my arms around her and sway side to side, tell her I can’t stop thinking about her. It’s because she fucking walked out on me last time. I wasn’t ready to let her go, and yes, I know this goes against my principles. This sort of thinking leads to messy, messy trouble, and even my bullshit cold façade doesn’t work when she’s around… She is that fucking ember melting my walls.
“So you’re saying you want to be friends?”
Her bottom lip slides between her teeth. It’s a tantalizing quirk.
“I’m saying I want to treat you. I know we have a history, but I really do respect your boundaries. As your therapist, they would be my boundaries as well… and Lord knows I could use the work.” She looks up at me, and this time she’s not being coy.
“Why do you care so much, Joselyn?”
We’re walking slowly towards the balcony, and I lift another flute off the waiter’s tray. She does the same.
“Remember that old fable about the lion who was going to eat the mouse, but in the end let him go? Then later, when the lion had been captured by hunters, that same mouse showed up and chewed through the ropes and set the lion free?”
“Everyone knows that story. I don’t know how it applies to this situation.”
“No act of kindness, no matter how small, is ever wasted.” She blinks those ocean eyes up at me. “I owe you one. Or several.”
“I release you from your debt.”
“You can’t do that. The universe knows, and if I don’t repay you, my karma will be all messed up.”
Outside, the briny air is warm and breezy. It sends her pretty hair swirling, and the moonlight touches her in silver. The waves create a soothing backdrop, and I remember last night, the touch of her hands.
“Your position is giving me a massage is going to repay me?”