Addicted to You (12 page)

Finn’s lips tightened. He lifted his mug and
chugged down the rest of his beer. When he was finished, he gave
Will a grim look that just didn’t look right on someone as laid
back as he was.

“I told Kat today at rehearsals.”

That was twice now Finn had managed to
surprise him. He floundered a bit before saying, “I guess … that
was good of you?”

“She said that must be why her boyfriend
dumped her this morning. Then she called me something I needed to
google to find the definition for and ran out before rehearsals
were done.”

Will could do nothing but
order another pitcher of beer. And he thought
he
had it bad.

“Sorry, man. First I fuck it up for you with
your sex therapy girl, and now I’ve fucked it up with Kat.”

Will finished his mug and then refilled it.
“I’m pretty sure I can, and will, screw myself over with my girl on
my own. Look, Finn, I know you really like Kat, but I think it’s
time to let it go.”

“I know,” he muttered. He was doing a bang
up job of sulking. “I keep telling myself that.”

“She wasn’t—”

“Hey there.”

This time, the interruption came from a tall
brunette. As Finn mumbled something to the effect of “This is why I
can’t take you anywhere,” the brunette held up her empty mug. With
a nod at their pitcher, she gave Will a slow smile that wasn’t
difficult to interpret.

“Can I join you?”

Finn leaned forward in his seat until Will
thought he would fall off. But instead of falling, he braced his
hands against Will’s shoulders and said blearily, “I hate you.”

She had yet to even look at Will, despite
that he had taken the seat right next to her. She stared stonily
ahead, apparently determined to pay attention to today’s session.
Will had no such aspirations, despite that he had specific
instructions from his boss to send detailed notes tomorrow about
the effectiveness of the counselor’s repeated methods. Instead, he
studied her profile and the way she pressed her lips together when
one of the other members said something particularly unusual.

The counselor was making them talk about
their long-term personal goals. Not what they wanted out of life,
but what they wanted romantically. After the old woman’s turn, the
counselor clarified by saying, “‘Sleeping my way through life’ is
not an acceptable answer.”

The old woman had used a different word, but
the message was clear.

“I’m halfway through my bucket list,” said
the woman with a head of dark brown curls and an impressive
collection of corsets. She’d worn a different one to every session
since Will began coming. Today, she wore a red brocade corset with
black lace along the top. It didn’t do much to cover her
cleavage.

The counselor looked hopeful. “Fantastic!
Care to share which items on your bucket list you’ve
accomplished?”

“Having sex in a train, sex on a boat, sex
in a plane, in a bathroom, a restaurant—”

The counselor spluttered before putting up a
hand to stop her. “That’s your bucket list? A checklist of all the
places you want to …” He released a long-suffering breath and
rubbed his temple.

Will was beginning to suspect the addicts
enjoyed flustering the poor counselor and testing his unending
patience. Probably another reason why the therapy didn’t appear to
be working for any of them.

The woman smiled and batted
too-long-probably-fake lashes at Will. “Sex with a Scottish man is
still on the list.” She leaned forward until Will felt certain she
would spill out of her corset. “Think about it, Braveheart.”

‘Nothing to think about,’ he wanted to say
but didn’t. Instead he settled his gaze on something far more
pleasant—his nameless beauty, who was now scowling so hard at the
busty woman that it was a miracle hellfire hadn’t risen up to
consume her.

Will smothered a smile. Being this close to
her and having to pretend that he didn’t feel anything was an
exercise in self-control. Every time she shifted, even if it was
just to fold her hands in her lap, the movement drew his attention.
He wanted to reach out and brush her hair over her shoulder. To
trail his fingers down her cheekbone, her jaw, her neck. He wanted
to see her smile at him with something that wasn’t tainted with
distrust.

Most of all, he wanted to learn her name.
Knowing part of her past was great, but now he wanted to know her
present. He wanted her to stop being a question so he could start
working on how to be her answer.

And if anyone ever found out he’d thought
those words, he would probably be laughed out of America.

“Please do not proposition each other during
meetings,” the counselor said, sounding weary. “Or outside of them
either.”

The busty woman waved her
hand in the air like she was chasing away a bad odor. “Of course,
all that was
before
,” she said unconvincingly. “Now all I’d like is to find
love. And have sex with that one person. Everywhere.”

“Okay then,” the counselor said. “Thank you
for, um, being honest.” He nodded to the guy in a dirty, beaten
down Packers cap who looked like your average creeper.

The creeper shrugged his shoulders beneath
his oversized, brown leather jacket. “I don’t have a plan. My wife
is leaving me.”

The counselor’s expression immediately
transformed into pained sympathy. “I’m very sorry to hear
that.”

The creeper gave a loud
snort, startling the counselor. Will gave him a curious look, and
even his
grumpy beauty
frowned at him.

“Why?
I’m
not sorry. I’ve been trying to
get her to leave for years!” His entire body shook with hysterical
laughter.

The counselor shifted uncomfortably in his
seat. No one else said anything as the creeper slapped his thigh
and wiped tears from his eyes. It took another several seconds for
him to calm himself down, but he was still grinning from ear to
ear, looking less like a creepy pervert and more like a creepy
psycho. Will took a few mental notes on his body language.

The creeper was obviously suppressing some
serious issues with his soon-to-be ex-wife, and the sex addiction
had likely formed as a means to deal with it. Will was fairly
certain he wasn’t nearly as happy about his wife leaving him as he
pretended to be.

“Still,” the counselor said, voice soft,
“the separation of two people who’d promised each other forever is
something to be mourned.”

No one said anything for a
few seconds. Will looked at his
grumpy
beauty
again and was surprised to find her
watching him. She had a contemplative look in her hazel eyes. When
he offered her a small smile, her gaze dropped to his mouth. She
sucked her bottom lip between her teeth and looked away.

Someone coughed. Will looked up to find
everyone but her staring at him.

The counselor gave him a disapproving frown
before saying, “It’s your turn. Would you like to share with us
your long-term personal goals?”

Not particularly.

“Well,” he began. In spite of what he’d
heard today from everyone, and in spite of his own childhood, what
he wanted was fairly standard, if only because it had never been
standard for him. “I’d like to marry someday. Maybe buy a house and
have children. I think it’d be worth trying.”

“That sounds wonderful,” the counselor said,
sounding relieved that someone finally wanted something he
considered normal and healthy. “I know couples who’ve been together
fifty years and counting. It can certainly be done
successfully.”

“Just don’t marry for love,” the creeper
said.

Will looked at him. “You don’t believe love
lasts?”

“I know it.”

Having never been in love, Will couldn’t say
definitively either way. But he liked to think it was possible. The
counselor gave the creeper a melancholy look. How did he always
look so … genuine?

“I’m sorry you feel that way,” the counselor
said. “But love finds you even in the most unlikely of times. It
may happen again for you.”

The creeper gave a sharp bark of laughter.
“God, I hope not.”

Ignoring him, the counselor returned his
attention to Will. “Will you be settling here in America, or are
you planning to return to Scotland?”

At the question, the girl beside Will
finally looked at him—a quick glance that gave nothing away of her
thoughts.

“Just to visit,” he said. “I miss it, but I
doubt I’d want to live there again.”

The counselor nodded. His smile looked
wistful. “I’d love to hear about your country some time if you’re
willing to share.”

“Of course.” Oftentimes, people asked him
questions with preconceived notions about Scotland, usually formed
through television and movies. Like if everyone wore kilts. Or if
he knew how to play the bagpipes. Or, if they were trying to be
funny, if he’d ever seen a leprechaun. (No, he hadn’t, and by the
way, leprechauns were Irish.)

The counselor glanced at the clock on the
wall before directing his smile at Will’s pale-haired mystery girl.
“Would you like to finish us off?”

The busty woman’s lips stretched into a
gleeful smile, and the creeper snickered loudly. The old woman
snorted, but it was hard to tell if the sound had come from her
since he couldn’t see her face beneath the brim of her hat. Even
Will couldn’t help the mental images that arose at the counselor’s
innocent question. It helped that he could flavor those images with
real memories.

His
grumpy beauty
didn’t react to the
counselor’s words other than with an unimpressed tilt of her
brow.

When the counselor realized what he’d said,
he turned a pale shade of pink. “Let me rephrase. Would you like to
complete today’s session by sharing with us your goals?”

“No, I wouldn’t,” she said, which made the
counselor blink at her. “But since I’m torturing myself by being
here, I suppose I might as well. I want …” She hesitated.

Will focused on her lips, his breath held in
anticipation.

“I want to be happy,” she said quietly, not
looking anywhere but down at her hands folded in her lap. She
sounded irritated by her own words. “Whatever that means. I’m not
sure what’ll make me happy, whether it’s a marriage with kids or an
open relationship with a circus troupe.”

The counselor looked slightly incensed by
the second option. Will smiled.

“I just mean that, at this
point, I’m not sure what I want. I like the idea of falling in
love, but I’ve never—” Her gaze flickered up to Will before looking
down again. “I’ve never met anyone I wanted to be with for longer
than a night, never mind
forever
.”

And then Will shocked
himself by thinking,
I want to change
that.

Will spent a couple hours
typing up notes and singling out the creeper for deeper analysis.
He left out his
grumpy
beauty
’s contribution to the meeting. He
still felt like a jerk for writing about their problems and then
outlining the numerous reasons why the counselor’s methods weren’t
working, but at least it was entirely anonymous. And he’d already
decided that he would explain to James what was going
on.

He spent another hour finishing up his
research on actual, approved treatment plans for hypersexuality. He
found the fact you could become a Certified Sex Addict Therapist
most interesting. At the next group session, he’d have to ask the
counselor about his credentials.

Once he finished, he checked his phone to
find a text from Finn telling him how their opening night had gone
off without any major problems. One of the supporting actors forgot
his lines, but they were able to push through it. Naturally, Kat
had ignored everyone when they weren’t on stage performing, and she
left the moment it was finished. Will could just imagine Finn’s
dejected expression.

He felt for his friend, but kissing Kat’s
boyfriend—even if he had kissed Finn first—was crossing a line. If
Finn expected Kat to ever speak to him again, well … that might be
asking for too much.

He texted Finn back with an apology for not
being able to make it and a promise to make the next performance.
Then he cleaned up and joined Bonny on the bed where she was curled
into a furry ball on the blanket.

Sleep was slow to come, his thoughts too
busy tripping over each other to settle down and let him rest. When
he closed his eyes, he saw her face as she was telling the group
what she wanted—to be happy—and he could hear the resignation in
her voice, as if she already believed that it wouldn’t happen.

Fortunately, not only was happiness
subjective, but its cause could change. Will was an optimist at
heart, and he knew he could make her happy if she let him.

Now, he just needed to know her name. Since
she’d hinted about working for the University web developers—or at
least being connected with them—it would simply be a matter of
locating where they were on campus and then either asking the staff
or waiting around for her to show up.

But a slightly irrational part of him felt
like this would be cheating. He didn’t want to weasel his way into
learning the information. He wanted her to tell him her name
because she wanted to.

It occurred to him then that he’d never told
her his name either. Maybe that was why she’d held back that day at
the theater. He’d have to rectify that the next time he saw her,
hopefully before the next meeting.

By the time his alarm clock went off, Will
had gotten a grand total of four hours of continuous sleep. Bonny
was curled into his side, and her head popped up to give him a
resentful look for getting out of bed and depriving her of his body
heat.