by Roni Loren
Donovan leaned back in his chair, impressed with Marin’s approach. She’d managed to call out Lawrence’s flaws and get past his hair-trigger defenses by framing it in a compliment and focusing on the positives—you’re smart, you’re good at staying safe.
Lawrence chewed on a thumbnail, considering her. “It sucks being alone all the time. I mean, who wants that? But women don’t . . . get me.”
Triumph flared in Marin’s eyes, and Donovan wanted to stand up and cheer for all three of them. They were finally getting somewhere with Lawrence.
But Marin kept her expression as smooth as water on a windless day. “Okay, let’s talk about that. What do you think women don’t get about you?”
The rest of the session went quickly, and both of them were able to get some things out of Lawrence—one being that the guy had been humiliated during an early sexual experience and had anxiety about that. It was a victory all around. The guy was talking, actually getting to the heart of things, and Marin had been the one to do it. Not a blushing cheek in sight.
When they finally wrapped up the session and walked Lawrence out, it took everything Donovan had not to sweep Marin up in his arms and twirl her around. Tell her everything, let it all spill out. Instead, he shut the door and leaned against it, smiling wide. “Is it bad that you rocking the hell out of that session kind of turned me on?”
She laughed and let out a little squeal, which was uncharacteristically girly for her. “Oh my God, that was such a rush. I feel like I actually got somewhere. Like I may be able to help him after all.”
He stepped closer to her, a moth to flame, and put his hands on her shoulders. “Of course you’ll be able to help him. You’re a brilliant therapist. I never doubted you for a second.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Bullshit, West. After that first session with him, you were expecting I was going to be the next victim of the X-wing gauntlet. You were probably already chiseling my proverbial headstone.”
“Never. I’m too good of a trainer to let that happen.”
She smirked. “So this is all you, then? You’re taking credit.”
“Totally.”
She shoved him playfully. “Egomaniac.”
He grabbed her wrist and brought her hand to his mouth, brushing his lips over her knuckles. “Seriously. I’m so damn proud of you. This is all you. You’re a natural.”
He gathered her closer, and she let her head fall to his shoulder with a sigh. “God. It feels really, really good.”
He could smell her hair, the sweet scent that lingered on his pillows, in his head. “What does?”
She took a second to respond but when she did, her voice had gone soft. “Figuring out where you’re meant to be.”
He ran his hand along the back of her head, a spike of something potent going through him. He knew her words were about finding her place at work, but they weaved through him, too, holding a whole other kind of meaning. He held her tighter.
Let her go.
The command whispered through his head, but he couldn’t heed it. The words were surging up in his throat. He wasn’t strong enough to let her walk without at least saying it. He needed to tell her how he felt. Tell her about his past. He couldn’t keep pretending.
He lifted her face to him. “Marin . . . there’s something I need to talk—”
But before he could get out the rest, the door swung open behind him, and voices hit him like a two-by-four to the back. He and Marin both leapt back from each other, unable to play it off, and spun toward the intruders. So much of him was hoping it was just Ysa or even a client, but no. Of course the universe couldn’t be so kind. Elle McCray had walked in . . . with Dr. Suri.
Elle’s face lit with feigned surprise. “Oh my, I am so sorry.”
Donovan hated Elle in that moment. Hated himself for ever getting involved with her. Yes, he deserved her wrath, but bringing Marin into it was taking it too far. People’s fucking careers were on the line, and she was putting on some stupid performance.
Dr. Suri looked honestly stunned, her dark eyes darting from him to Marin then back. “Dr. West, what exactly is going on here? Didn’t I just see a client leave this office?”
Marin stepped forward. “Dr. Suri, I’m so sorry. It was—”
“My fault,” Donovan supplied. Marin’s head whipped around to gawk at him. “Dr. Rush was excited about a breakthrough with a client, and I . . . I hugged her and got carried away.”
Dr. Suri went ramrod straight, her demure height seeming to grow two feet. “Dr. Rush, has Dr. West been putting you in an uncomfortable situation? This institute does not tolerate any form of sexual harassment and—”
Marin put her hands up. “No. God, no. It’s nothing like that,” she said in a rush. “I—Donovan—well, we used to have a relationship. In college. And—”
“Weren’t you a freshman when he was a graduate student?” Elle asked, all innocence and faux shock.
Dr. Suri’s expression switched to full-out appalled.
“Wait, no, that’s not what it was like. And—”
Dr. Suri cut her off with a lifted palm. “Dr. Rush, we’ll talk about this separately. You shouldn’t have to feel pressured by your trainer to do . . . anything.”
“I don’t! I’m a grown woman, we’re—”
“Dr. West,” Suri said, her tone like a hacksaw. “In my office. Now. I’m not going to discuss this here.”
He didn’t react, didn’t show the devastation crashing through him. He knew where this would go. This job—it once meant everything. It was his life. But losing his job would be the least of it now. He’d never forgive himself if Marin lost her spot, too. “Of course.”
Elle’s eyes burned into him from behind Suri’s back. Checkmate. That’s what this was. But she didn’t seem triumphant about it anymore. Her expression had shifted into what almost looked like regret. Like maybe she’d just realized how far she’d taken this.
It didn’t fucking matter. Elle had fired the shot, but this was his fault. He’d promised Marin he wouldn’t risk her. She’d trusted him and he’d let her down. He’d ruined everything because he had no goddamned self-control.
Marin stared at him like she was going to protest more, throw herself on a sword or something, but he gave a little headshake. This was not her fight.
He’d broken his word. This is what happened to the things he touched. His shrapnel had flown her way, drawn blood, damaged things. But he wouldn’t let this hurt her any further. The best way to keep safe from shrapnel was to remove the bomb.
He walked past her without saying another word.
30
Marin paced Donovan’s living room. She’d let herself in with the key he hid outside for her, and she’d been wearing a track in his wood floors since. She’d tried to text him, but apparently, he was still in with Suri because she hadn’t heard a word. And this was taking way too long for it not to be bad.
Everything looked so awful from the outside looking in. He was her trainer. She was younger. They’d been at work, embraced, almost kissing right after a client had left. God, they’d been so stupid. But when he’d looked at her the way he had today, all logic had gone out the window. She’d felt like he was going to tell her something important. Like maybe things had changed for him, too. Like maybe this experiment was turning into so much more than that.
But then everything had blown up in their faces like an atom bomb. One second—great. The next—annihilation. Fucking Elle McCray. She’d apparently been biding her time and waiting for an opportunity to catch them off guard. She spent a lot of time stopping by the X-wing, presumably to consult about clients they shared, but Ysabel had commented that it was odd she was over there so much. And many times it’d been with Suri. But all it’d been was surveillance. She’d been setting this up all along, hoping to catch them. She’d probably seen Lawrence leave and then realized she and Donovan had never come out.
Marin squeezed her temples, a headache pounding behind her eyes. She wo
uld not cry. Would. Not. They would fix this. She couldn’t lose this job. Donovan couldn’t lose his. But shit, she couldn’t see Suri letting them work together so closely anymore. She probably thought they were getting it on in between sessions or something. God.
The stabbing sensation in Marin’s head increased and little dots of light danced in her vision. No, not now. She took a detour from her pacing and went to Donovan’s room. She needed something for her head or it was going to turn into a full-blown migraine. She couldn’t be laid up in bed with a migraine while all of this was going on.
She made her way to his bathroom and opened his medicine cabinet. His razor was in there along with a number of bottles. Some over-the-counter, some prescription. She skimmed over the orange ones, looking for ibuprofen or aspirin, but then her attention got hung up on one of the prescription labels. The drug name all too familiar. Not just from work but because it was one her mom had been on at some point. An antidepressant.
She stared, a record scratch sounding in her head, and picked up the bottle, hoping the name would morph into something different. The name of an antibiotic or allergy medication. But no, there it was. Donovan was taking antidepressants. And right next to that bottle were prescription sleeping pills and an antianxiety med.
She swallowed hard. It shouldn’t bother her. Hell, she shouldn’t even be seeing it. This was his private space. His own business. These medicines helped people. If he needed that kind of help, she should be glad he was getting it. Her mom’s disorder had claimed her life because she hadn’t received the right medications or treatment that could’ve stabilized her. This didn’t have to be a big deal. But Marin couldn’t help her heartbeat from ticking up.
Donovan was depressed? It was hard to wrap her head around. The guy she knew had so much light in him. That smile of his was like a freaking sunrise. But even as she had the thought, she knew that wasn’t the whole story. She’d only let herself read part of those pages. There were times, quiet moments, when she’d seen glimpses of the darkness, too, the sadness. It’d been there from the start. From the very first week she’d met him when she’d found him drinking and lost to grief. She’d ignored it, edited out those parts.
Her hand went sweaty against the bottle.
“You need something, Marin?”
Marin jumped and the pill bottle went tumbling to the floor. She spun around, finding Donovan looking completely blank. Not mad. Not upset. Just nothing. He reached down and picked up the bottle from the floor.
“Oh, God, I’m sorry. I had a headache and—”
He stepped past her and set the prescription on the shelf and then grabbed another bottle. He tossed it to her. Aspirin.
She caught it but couldn’t take her eyes off him.
He braced his hands on the sink behind him, looking at her with an unreadable expression. “Need something else?”
Her lips parted. Shut. She forced words out that had nothing to do with the meds. “What did Suri say?”
His gaze shifted away to some spot on the wall. “I’m suspended until she can do a full investigation. She’ll want to talk with you tomorrow, but as long as you tell her I made the first move, your job will be safe.”
Marin’s heart sunk. “I’m not going to tell her that.”
His jaw flexed. “You should. It’s the truth.”
“I kissed you that first time. I wanted this as much as you did. You didn’t take advantage of me, Donovan. You know that.”
“Do I? You were my responsibility to train, to get you set up for success at work. But I wanted you in my bed from the moment you walked back into my life, and I made sure that happened.”
“And it sure as hell wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t wanted it to. You think you have some kind of magical seduction powers that tricked me into your bed? Come on. Be serious.”
He raked a hand through his hair, anger bubbling to the surface. “You were nearly a virgin, Marin. Getting you keyed up and wanting me was like shooting fish in a fucking barrel.”
The words landed like acid on her. “What? Did you just call me easy?”
His eyes met hers, hardness there. “It is what it is. So tomorrow, tell her the truth. Keep your job.”
She stared at him, refusing to look away despite what a fucking cold bastard he was being. He was trying to hurt her. She just couldn’t figure out why. But she could feel the bite of it, the intent to harm. “What were you going to say before they walked in on us?”
His gaze flickered with something else for a moment but then the blank wall snapped back in place. “What?”
“You said you wanted to tell me something. What were you going to say?”
His fingers were white against the sink. “I was going to remind you that the time limit was almost done, that it was time to start wrapping this up.”
She stepped forward and poked a hard finger to his chest at that. “Bullshit. That is bullshit, West.” Her words fired like bullets, her finger punctuating them. “You don’t look at a woman like that because you’re about to break it off. Why are you being such a fucking coward right now?”
She could feel the tightness in her throat, the angry tears that wanted to spring forth, but he barely flinched. That goddamned therapist mask. She wanted to rip it off him.
His Adam’s apple bobbed, the only indication that she’d gotten something through, that somewhere in there, he heard her. “You need to go, Marin. It’s not going to look good for us to be seen together.”
She stared at him, so furious and hurt she could barely string words together. “So just like that? This is done, we’re done?”
“I’ll be fired within the week. This job, this house won’t be mine anymore. Those were the only things holding me here.” He took her wrist, moving her hand away from his chest and eased her back. “I told you what I was good at, Rush. Here’s me doing it.”
Her hands balled into fists. “That is such a shit thing to say. A shit thing. Don’t be that guy. You are not that guy. I told Lawrence he was paying a high price to keep himself safe. Well, his fucking bill is nominal compared to the costs you’re racking up.” She pressed her hand to her chest. “This. This is the price, West. Look at me. Look at this woman who was falling in love with you and keep telling her to go to hell. Ruin something that could be great. Put that bill on top of the stack.”
He finally reacted, flinching like she’d slapped him hard. Good. She was not going to let him push her away this easily. He may not love her. But she’d be damned if he was going to stand here and act like he felt nothing. Fuck him for that. Fuck. Him.
He stepped forward and grabbed her arm. “Come here.”
She stiffened at the touch and the rough hold but couldn’t do anything but go with his momentum. For the first time in her life, she wanted to throw down and fight, to shake some sense into him. To wrestle him to the ground and freaking hit him. But when he ground to a halt, he spun them both to face the beautiful cityscape of San Francisco.
“Look at that picture, Marin.”
She blinked, thrown off her angry tirade for a second by the non sequitur. “What? Why?”
“You know where I took that from?”
The bay was stretched out in front of the city, the hilly streets dotted with colorful buildings. “From a bridge.”
“Yes. From the Golden Gate.” His grip on her arm tightened. “After I caught Selena cheating, I left L.A. and just drove, not knowing where I was going, not having anywhere to go. I ended up in San Francisco. And when I took that photo, with that bay rolling beneath me, I had one glaring thought running through my head. That if I jumped, no one would care. That I wouldn’t care.”
The words hit her like a blow to the chest. “Donovan . . .”
“Yeah. That’s what guy I am. The broken kind. The kind you can’t count on. I told you that from the start.”
Her stomach was knotted, her emotions curling in on themselves. Donovan had thought about suicide. Donovan kept a picture of the moment in
his room. “Why did you hang it on your wall?”
It was easier than asking why he’d wanted to die. It was the only thing she could get out.
“Because some days I’m still on that bridge. Me up there alone and the world going on across the water, doing just fine without me. I walk past this photo every day to remind myself to keep moving forward. Not to stop and risk taking the photo. It can’t catch me if I don’t stop moving.”
She closed her eyes, pain seeping into her. Is that what it had felt like for her mom? She’d gone a hundred miles an hour until she couldn’t. Until all got still and quiet and dark. Until the monster she was running from won. “What happened that night?”
He let out a tired breath, a weary one. “I stood on the bridge and almost jumped. I’d like to say my education stopped me, that I recognized the signs that I was in trouble. But it wasn’t that. Someone saw me and called nine-one-one. Paxton was still my emergency contact, so when he got the call, he flew in to help me get my head straight. I spent thirty days at a facility just like The Grove. Then Pax sent me here to bury myself in work.” He turned her toward him, his eyes sad, some of the Donovan she knew coming back. “You told Lawrence today that he had pinned his hopes on a fantasy woman who didn’t really exist. Well, this guy you think you’re falling in love with isn’t real either. I’m still messed up, Marin. I don’t sleep well. I get bouts of depression. I keep the meds around because I go through rough patches. This needed to be temporary because I’m temporary. This version of me is temporary.”
Tears burned her eyes now. “It doesn’t have to be that way.”
“It is that way. And you don’t need that. You’ve already spent way too much time taking care of the people in your life. Too much time worrying. I don’t need you worrying about me, too. And I don’t want you to see that side of me. I like how you see me. What we’ve had here has been great. Like that week in college. Perfection immortalized in time because we didn’t let it go long enough to mess it up. Let’s keep it that way. Let it stand on its own, and we can call on that memory when we need it.”