Therapy (22 page)

The ache in my chest is constant and never lessens. I know I have to let him go, but sometimes I think trying to forget someone that’s touched your heart the way Jace has touched mine is as impossible as trying to remember someone you’ve never met at all. Moving on is easy, but leaving that someone behind is the fucking hard part.

I wish I knew what it felt like not to have this hole inside of me, this emptiness that never seems to go away. The only time I’ve ever felt like it was whole was when I was with Jace, but now I wonder if that’s entirely true. I don’t know what to fill it with, or even how to fill it. Ever since I can remember, I’ve felt a certain degree of emptiness, like something inside of me just wasn’t there, wasn’t pieced together right. When Jace came into my life, I felt less hollow, but each time I’ve had to endure losing him that hole has gotten bigger, wider, and so much deeper. I feel like all I’ve ever done is chase life, never catching it.

Walking into group, I feel less than enthused about trying to find myself. After last night, I couldn’t care less about anything. I know where Jace is, and who he’s with, and that’s all I can think about right now. Sometimes, my obsessive thoughts are so intense that they overwhelm everything I do.

I sit in one of the cold metal chairs and fidget with my sleeves as the others file in, babbling amongst themselves. The morose feeling that I’m submerged in feels heavy upon my shoulders and I just want to get up, go home, and drink, sleep, or cut. Instead, I have to be here listening to why I’m so fucked-up, why all these other fucked-up people are so screwed in the head too, and what we need to do to fix ourselves. It’s really similar to alcoholics, I suppose. It’s all vices, ways to cope.

“Hey, Jessica! Glad you’re back. I wondered if you’d venture back here with us crazies or not,” Mercedes chirps.

She’s wearing tons of makeup and jewelry again, and her bright white teeth and that happy Lucky Charms smile of hers is working overtime today. How someone in this group can be so freaking happy, I’ll never know.

“Hey, Mercedes. Yes, I’m back, but not by choice, I assure you,” I mutter while rolling my eyes and sighing.

“Oh, it’s not that damn bad! Just give it a chance, chica.”

She takes the seat beside me and fumbles with her huge bag, pulling out her notebook and pen. Ms. Robin is setting up while more people take their seats. Out of the corner of my eye, I see him.

Kingsley.

He has on the beanie again, and small wisps of hair poke out around the edges. Simple gray Dickies and a black fitted T-shirt clothe his tall frame. He takes a seat at the far end of the group and glances up in my direction, briefly meeting my eyes. The edges of his gorgeous lips turn up into a smile, and I quickly look away, too emotionally exhausted to engage with him. Still...

He’s really good-looking.

I try to reel in my thoughts before they run away from me. The last thing I need is to further complicate my already disastrous emotional state by becoming infatuated with some hot guy from my self-harm group.

I can feel his stare and, despite my internal reprimand, I can’t help but look over again. He’s leaning forward with his elbows resting on his legs, and when he sits like that, the bulge of his biceps is even more defined.

God, he’s sexy in all the ways a girl wants a guy to be. He has this extremely unkempt ruggedness about him. Then, there are his eyes. They aren't your typical blue, no. They’re an intense cobalt blue and they pull you in, whether you want them to or not.

I catch myself staring back at him, and when he grins that crooked smile at me again, I think I actually blush. I turn my attention back to the front of the room and try my best to breathe and slow my heart rate.

Ms. Robin starts the group by welcoming all of us and telling us what the group topic will be for the day. I pull out my pen and grab my notepad even though I won’t be back again, so taking notes is pointless. Still, I might as well make some sort of effort.

“All right, everyone. If you’re ready, I’m going to begin. Today, we’ll talk about blame. There are many forms of blame. Many of us blame ourselves while some place blame on others. Regardless of what kind of blame you’re dealing with, it’s a negative judgment you’re placing upon yourself or someone else.”

I sigh and prepare myself for the next hour of slow and painful lecturing.

“We all have to stop making excuses for ourselves and for others. We have to understand that placing blame on ourselves, or on others, for our failures will accomplish nothing. It will only set us back when what we really want is to move forward. Blame is just another form of an excuse. When you make an excuse you’re shifting responsibility and placing blame onto someone or something else. Can anyone tell me a time when they knew they were at fault for a bad choice, but instead they placed blame onto someone else?” Ms. Robin asks.

I hate when she throws questions out to us. I feel like I’m under a spotlight, even though I’m definitely not the only one sitting here. Nevertheless, It’s still an uncomfortable feeling. Chris raises her hand and answers. I pretend to listen, but all I can do is think about Kingsley and his deep blue eyes that keep finding their way to me.

“I see that Mr. Hot and Mysterious keeps eyeballing you. What’s up with that?” Mercedes whispers as she nudges me with her elbow. I glance over to see a smirk on her face.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I lie.

“Suuuuure you don’t. Uh huh, because you totally can’t see that the guy keeps staring at you every chance he gets,” she laughs quietly.

I roll my eyes and cut them back in his direction. He just grins again and looks back toward the front. I feel warmth sweep over my body.

What in the hell is going on with me?

This has to be due to the shit that went down with Jace last night. I get excited over male attention all the time, but this feeling is a bit different.

He keeps cutting his eyes in my direction, and my eyes keep finding their way back to his. Each and every time, I feel this weird sense of recognition, a magnetism that I can’t really explain. It’s attraction, yes, but it’s more than that too. I can’t put a description on it, but it feels comfortable, familiar even.

“You two have got some serious vibes going on. I sense love in the air,” Mercedes giggles.

“Oh no, you don’t! Me and love don’t belong in the same sentence, I assure you,” I tell her sternly.

“Well, maybe you just haven’t met the right guy. Have you ever thought about that?” she whispers as Ms. Robin drones on in the background.

I shake my head back and forth and roll my eyes. She has no idea what she’s saying, or whom she’s saying it to. I’m in no position to be falling in love—now or anytime in the near future.

This thing with Jace has me all twisted up inside, and the very last thing I need is another emotionally charged relationship in my life. If she knew my history with men, she’d never suggest I get involved with a new one.

“Mercedes, I can promise you the last thing I need in my life right now is another guy coming along, screwing with my head and emotions. Guys are only good for sex. The emotional bullshit can stay away forever, as far as I’m concerned.”

“Well, just use him for sex, then. I mean, shit, look at him dripping with that I’ll-fuck-you-senseless sex appeal,” she says, giving me a mischievous wink. “He’s all scruffy and rough-looking. Those ones are the best, right?”

“Yeah, no. I don’t think so. Having a fling with a dude from a mental health group seems a bit crazy to me, no pun intended,” I say quietly.

The session is wrapping up and his eyes continue to follow me. I gather my stuff while Mercedes keeps swaying her eyes back and forth between Kingsley and me. I feel a matchmaker moment hanging in the air. She really has no idea how bad of an idea that would be.

“Mercedes, I’m serious. I’m not interested in him.”

“Okay. Whatever you say, chica!” she says, rolling her bright eyes as if she doesn’t believe a word out of my mouth. “Looks like he’s coming over here, though, so you better have your rejection ready.”

Kingsley approaches us and my nerves seem to split in half. I have no idea why he makes me feel this way. Usually with guys, I feast on their attention, craving it with a hunger, needing it to fill that ever-present emptiness inside of me, even if I know it’s just a temporary solution. But even with all those jumbled emotions, rarely do I feel anxious about it.

“Hey,” he says in his low, raspy voice. The level of awkwardness between us is almost unbearable. Or maybe it’s just me?

“Hi,” I respond as our eyes connect. That odd but familiar feeling returns. I turn and walk toward the exit nervously.

“See yah next time, chica. Make sure to text me your number when you get a chance,” Mercedes yells, and somehow I know she’s going to want dirt on whatever’s about to take place between Kingsley and me. For the first time, I consider that it might actually be fun to have a girlfriend. I turn and wave to her, deciding to give it a shot and text her later.

Kingsley falls into step beside me. “Umm, hey. You maybe wanna go grab some coffee with me?” he asks with that endearing, crooked grin.

He’s so damn cute in such a disheveled kind of way. He’s not all put together or clean-cut like Jace. He’s got at least a week or more of growth on his face and he dresses like he couldn’t care less what anyone thinks. He may be messy-looking, but he emanates sex appeal and confidence with every move he makes, and every word he speaks. I know I shouldn’t go anywhere with him after all the shit that went down with Jace last night.

“I’ll take your silence as a hint that you’d rather not go,” he says as he holds the door to the parking lot open for me.

I look up at him as I pass and those eyes pull me in briefly, but I soon look away and snap out of the dangerous trance.

“It’s not that I don’t want to. It’s just complicated. I’m complicated; trust me, you don’t want to know me. I’ve got a lot going on,” I hedge as I avoid his gaze.

“Good. Then we already have something in common. It’s just coffee,” he encourages. “How complicated can coffee be?” he asks.

Before I can tell him no, my phone rings and I look at the screen. It’s Jace. I tap the ignore button and look up at Kingsley with a smile.

“Sure, why not? I’ll have coffee with you.”

To hell with Jace Collins.

I’m not pining over that man another minute.

“Great. Are you cool with motorcycles, or is that going to be a problem?”

“No, I don’t have a problem with motorcycles. I especially have no problem with a Harley. But I do have a problem if you’re a crazy driver of said motorcycle,” I laugh. To be honest, the idea of straddling a Harley Davidson behind a man that looks like Kingsley Arrington certainly isn’t something that I have any aversion to, regardless of his driving skills.

“I’m a great driver. Don’t you worry, you’re safe with me,” he says while handing his helmet over. For some reason, his words resonate on a deeper level than I can really make sense of. I look at the helmet and back at him.

“Umm, you’ve had your sweaty head in this helmet. I’m not wearing this. I’ll go without. If you’re as good a driver as you say you are, then I shouldn’t need it, right?” I give him a cocky grin and hold the helmet out to him.

“Listen, you stubborn woman, it’s not about my driving skills. It’s about all these other lunatics on the road. You’re not getting on the back of my bike without a helmet on that pretty little head of yours, so stop with the prissiness and just put the damn thing on.” With that, he pushes the helmet back at me.

Whoa! Where did all that come from? Kingsley just laid down the law to me and he doesn’t even know me. If he’s trying to impress me with his well-mannered ways, he’s doing a terrible job.

“Well, geez you don’t have to be an asshat about it! Do you always talk to ladies like that?”

He looks me up and down slowly, as if he’s trying to come to some conclusion. Then he situates his stare right on my eyes.

“For some reason, I have a very strong feeling that you’re far from being a lady. I can tell that you’re feisty and stubborn as shit, and I could tell immediately that you’re a hard ass, so I seriously doubt that you’re offended by a few expletives. You’re no shrinking violet. So shut up, put the sweaty helmet on, and get on the bike. Please.” A big smile stretches across his sexy face and all my resolve starts folding.