Addicted to You (2 page)

At the way everyone
stared, Blue Eyes rubbed the back of his neck and gave them a
sheepish smile that she refused to call adorable.
That kind of
smile
looked out of place here. Leers and smirks, Leah was used to, but
this was different. Weird if only because it was so
normal
compared to the
rest of them.

“Um,” he said into the awkward stretch of
their silence. “What now?”

“Don’t stop talking,” Stilettos whispered,
breathing heavily.

“Okay then … well. All right,” the counselor
managed, recovering from his stunned silence. “I’m glad you’re
staying positive despite your many, and clearly severe, problems.
Tell me, why do you think you have too much sex?”

“It’s like an obsession,” Blue Eyes answered
promptly. He gave the others a glance before sinking lower into his
chair. He seemed to finally realize the effect he was having on the
room at large. The other members were leaning forward, as if
straining against invisible ropes. They looked ready to launch
themselves into his personal space.

His discomfort seemed more
a result of Leah’s fellow addicts than because he was in therapy
for sex addiction. In fact, the way he’d introduced himself made it
seem as if he was perfectly glad to be here. Who in their right
mind would actually
want
to attend these sessions?

Not that her body was
complaining about his presence. She
concentrated as hard as she could on the counselor. It was
probably the first time she had even made eye contact with the guy,
but anything was better than the way she felt when she looked at
Blue Eyes. Not because it was unpleasant to feel turned on, to have
that excited burn in her belly, but because she knew what it would
lead to if she pursued it—empty, meaningless sex.

Of course, she was banned
from sex until Helena was satisfied, but doing
anything
with Blue Eyes meant she’d
also have to worry about possibly seeing him again at the next
meeting. In the past, she’d preferred it when the guy either left
before she woke or without her having to ask. Kicking him out could
sometimes be awkward, especially when he got it into his head that
she might want a second date.

Yet, somehow, she just couldn’t endure the
thought of watching this particular boy walk away.

And judging by Blue Eyes’ extraordinary
speech, he was every bit as much a slut as she was.

She had no problem, however, with allowing
her imagination to run wild, picturing him writhing on a bed with
his multiple naked partners … She sucked in her breath and held it
as she stopped mid-thought. Apparently, she did have a problem with
it. She’d expected to react to the daydream with arousal, but
instead she felt … vaguely pissed off.

She mentally sneered at herself. It was
ridiculous to feel even a hint of jealousy over someone she hadn’t
known existed until five minutes ago. He could have as many orgies
as he wanted.

She spent the rest of the meeting staring a
new hole into the puckered floor tiles.

Twenty minutes before the end of the
meeting, the counselor left them for what he liked to refer to as
‘group time.’ He seemed to think they would talk more freely if he
was gone. She always felt like telling him the only thing that
happened when he left was a sigh of relief all around and some
stilted small talk.

This week, however, Blue Eyes seemed to have
livened everyone up.

“Is it me,” he said, “or is it a bit naïve
to put a bunch of sex addicts together in one room? Surely that’s
just a pick-up service under the guise of therapy.”

Maybe if her fellow addicts were all male
belly dancers, Leah thought. Unfortunately, reality was always more
disappointing.

“I know, right?” Stilettos
said. “This should totally be like a free-for-all night. Now
that’d
be
therapy.”

“There’s no one here I want,” Old Lady
chirped from under her hat.

“Until now.” Stilettos grinned at Blue Eyes.
Leah decided she wanted to tie Stilettos to her chair and lock her
in the closet.

But that would be crazy, and Leah hated
proving Helena right.

“I don’t believe that.” Blue Eyes’ mouth
took on a wickedly sexy slant. “What about her?” He gestured at
Leah, whose heart set off at a sprint in the direction of her
panties.

He thought she was hot. He just implied he
would sleep with her.

Then again, coming from a guy with a sex
problem, it probably didn’t mean much.

But Leah smothered a smile anyway.

“Oh,
her
.” Stilettos sniffed. “She’s hot,
but her personality is so abrasive that it just completely puts you
off.”

“You’re not my type, I assure you,” Leah
said, stiffening at the insult. She didn’t actually care what any
of them thought about her. She wasn’t here to make friends. Just
one more session, and then she’d never have to see any of these
people again.

Packers Cap laughed. He sounded like a
perverted seal pup. “Sleeping with you would probably freeze my
penis off.”

“Sorry, no charity cases today,” Leah said
airily. The last thing she needed was the mental image of his
frozen dick. “But feel free to find a freezer.”

“Maybe we can ask the counselor to make it
an alternate solution,” Stilettos said. “Weekly meetings with him
or a night with the Ice Queen.”

“That’s a bit rich coming from you lot.”
Blue Eyes’ voice was unamused, and everyone looked startled.

Well, everyone except Leah who hid her
surprise behind a frown.

She knew how she came across to people, and
she was used to the names. ‘Ice Queen’ was really on the nicer end
of the spectrum. However, she wasn’t used to anyone besides Helena
standing up for her. It made her feel restless. Agitated. This guy
didn’t know the first thing about her, so what did he care?

“I don’t need you to defend me,” she said
evenly. “The way you talked about your ‘problems’—you sounded more
like you were here to brag instead of looking for help. It’s
disgusting.”

Blue Eyes looked a little taken aback and,
by the way his brows drew together, a little annoyed too. The
agitation in her stomach immediately shifted into guilt.

She hadn’t meant to sound like such a bitch.
Strangers were only nice to her when they wanted something, so
she’d reacted the way she always did by being defensive and
snapping at him. She felt stupid and awkward as she pushed her hair
behind her ear and tried to ignore his probing glances.

After that, no one would answer any
questions no matter how charmingly Blue Eyes put them. Leah had, as
per usual, reduced the room to one giant, mutual sulk.

Everyone released
conspicuous sighs of relief when the counselor returned to tell
them they could leave. Stilettos shot out the door faster than
anyone on four-inch heels had ever moved before, and Packers Cap
wasn’t far behind her. Before Old Lady could stumble yet again into
the chair with the cookies, Leah reached out to guide her around
it. Then she pushed another chair out of the way so the lady could
at least make it to the door without anymore obstacles. How she
even functioned
in her day-to-day life was
beyond Leah.

Leah’s jacket, which had been hanging over
the back of her chair, slid to the floor. She stooped to grab it
but drew up short when someone else’s hand closed around the dark
green material first. Swallowing past the lump in her throat, she
looked up and locked gazes with Blue Eyes. He was even more
stunning up close.

He was looking at her like she puzzled him,
and her brain had apparently decided to abandon ship because she
had no idea what to do or say in response. She didn’t dare open her
mouth in case something stupid or insulting came out of it again.
As he handed over her jacket, their fingers brushed. The brief
contact sent shivers through her even though he was warm.

“Have a good night,” he said before giving
her a small, thoughtful smile and turning away.

Will jolted awake to the fading memory of
nails biting into his shoulder blades, warm skin, and a piercing
gaze.

“Wonderful,” he muttered,
rubbing a hand over his eyes. He stretched his arms over his head
and then glanced at the digital clock on his nightstand. He was
late. “E
ven better.
”

He rose from his bed and stumbled tiredly
into the bathroom in his boxer briefs. From the doorway, his cat
meowed at him to express her displeasure at having to wait to be
fed.

“Sorry, Bonny, give me a moment,” he said.
He squeezed toothpaste onto his toothbrush as he peered at his
disheveled reflection.

Bonny was a stray who had shown up outside
the flat one morning almost a year ago. She’d been thin and
distrustful, and Will had decided immediately that he needed a pet.
After a while, it became sort of comforting to know someone was
waiting for him when he got home, even if it was a cat.

Once he finished in the bathroom, he threw
on the first pair of jeans he could find and shrugged a clean
t-shirt over his head before tending to Bonny. When she finished
her breakfast, he allowed himself a few minutes to play with her.
It had taken over a month to earn her trust, but his lap was now
her favorite place to curl up in the mornings, and he hated
disappointing her. Anyway, he was already late for his work
study.

Of course, he also didn’t want to get fired
so, with a final scratch to Bonny’s chin, he set her on the floor
and returned to his bedroom. He stuffed all his textbooks and
folders into his book bag, slung it over his shoulder, and slipped
out of his flat.

He only lived a few minutes from campus, but
he was still nearly an hour late. The details of his dream had
already slipped away, leaving him only with the impression of hazel
eyes. Hopefully, that would fade as well. The last thing he needed
was to be having inappropriate dreams about a girl who he was not
only supposed to be studying, but whose words had stayed with him
all evening after the therapy session.

It wasn’t just her
condescension for him that stuck out in his mind though; it was the
look on her face when the others had mocked her. It had been
defiant, as if she had to prove to them, or herself, that their
words hadn’t bothered her. And maybe they really hadn’t, but he
couldn’t help feeling angry on her behalf.

Holding coffee in one hand and his notes
from last night in the other, Will sidled into the wee office
hidden in the back of the psychology department as quietly and
unobtrusively as he could.

James, his boss, looked up from a giant
textbook and rolled his eyes. “Will, you are my sole research
student in an office that measures the span of three scooters. Do
you really think I’m not going to notice when you’re late?”

“Sorry,” Will said. He smiled his ‘I’m
disorganized, but you love me’ smile and handed James his coffee
before wedging himself behind his desk.

James made a slightly mollified sound and
took a sip of the coffee before setting it on a stack of ungraded
papers. His worn leather chair groaned beneath his considerable
girth as he shifted his weight and ran a hand over his bald
head.

“How did it go? Will it make a good case
study?” James demanded, apparently refusing to let Will’s brain
wake up enough to recall the notes he’d written. At the moment, he
was still trying to shake off the last vestiges of the girl who’d
slipped into his subconscious last night.

He made a show of yawning just to annoy his
boss. Then he grinned behind his hand when James raised a knowing
brow.

“You mean, will it confirm your theory?”
Will asked.

“Well now,” James said, giving him a stern
look that was clearly fake. “That would be unscientific, to simply
look for evidence that supports my hypotheses.” The stern look
faded to curiosity. “But does it?”

Not for the first time, Will was grateful
his boss was so laid back. “Aye. I don’t see how sex addiction can
be treated by a well-meaning hippie who makes you do guided
meditation and talks about controlling animal urges.”

The counselor seemed like a decent sort, and
his heart was in the right place. But good intentions weren’t
enough to run a successful therapy group, especially if the addicts
truly needed professional help.

James moved a pile of questionnaires to one
side and said, “You’ll need to go a few more times, just in case
the counselor has some ideas that aren’t completely useless.”

“That’s just perfect,” Will said, shuffling
through his notes as his computer booted up. “You do realize you’re
sending me off to be molested? As I was leaving last night, I had
my bum pinched three times.”

“I’m sure that a grown man such as yourself
can effectively protect his virtue,” James said.

“Remind me why you get the kleptos and I get
the weird addictions?”

“Because you’re my research student,” James
said in a ‘duh’ tone of voice. He buried his head in a textbook and
muttered something along the lines of, “Can’t go … might get
recognized … troubled youth.”

Will decided not to ask. He would probably
be happier not knowing.

When he applied for this job, other psych
students had warned him about James. They told him he was a slave
driver, a loon, totally mad. James’ previous research student
hadn’t just quit his position; he’d quit psychology altogether and
was now reportedly in music therapy for his own mental health.

While Will didn’t think James was nearly as
bad as he’d been told, there were definitely times he questioned
whether his boss studied the human mind out of an intellectual
interest or just plain morbid curiosity.