“You know that’s not possible,” I told her.
“I won’t be seen around town dating a former patient,” she said. “It’s inappropriate. It was horribly unethical of me to—”
“No. Stop beating yourself up. I need you to talk things through with. If you won’t be my counselor, you can be my friend,” I said.
“I have a lot of friends. They never plaster me up against the side of a pickup,” she said wryly.
“Then they’re idiots,” I said with a wicked smile. “Maybe we can’t be just friends. How about friends with benefits?”
She shook her head, “That’s not appropriate.”
“I may just have to kiss that word out of your vocabulary,” I said teasingly. Her cheeks heated in response, her teeth digging in to her bottom lip.
“No more kissing,” she said at length. “If you need someone to talk to, and you won’t see a different counselor, then we’ll have to be friends. So what are you doing tomorrow morning?”
“Before work? I work out. We could go for a run,” I said.
She grimaced a little. It was cute. I could tell she wasn’t a runner.
“Okay,” she said, “if anyone sees us they’ll just think I’m on some stupid diet and trying to exercise more. You could be training me.”
“You could do a half marathon as a cover story,” I suggested.
“That’s a hell no from me.”
I laughed, “Okay, we’ll go for a run. Do you want to come here or what?”
“Six a.m., and I’ll meet you at the park by the fountain.”
“I’ll see you then,” I said, trying to suppress my happiness.
12
Layla
It had to be that I was punishing myself. Otherwise I’d never agree to go for a run. I might run after a taco truck, but that’s it. I started dreading the run as soon as I drove away from the vineyard. After I noticed my crazed, horny eyes in my rearview mirror.
It was up to me to help him without getting personal on my end. This wasn’t a real friendship, just a way to help him out. I couldn’t exactly treat him in group or private counseling after he had my tongue in his mouth. So I was going to have to be determined and focus only on helping him. Not focusing on the kiss. The insane, incredible kiss that was miles better than any sex I’d ever had, even with my favorite vibrator.
I knew the value of talking through my problems. I just had to decide who to confide in. My mom would obviously weigh in on the side of staying away from men because they are life ruiners. So she was off the list. Sarah Jo was busy with the plant nursery, the landscaping, and her family. Maggie had a family herself, but she had the advantage of being married to Tyler’s twin. She might come the closest to understanding the bind I’d put myself in.
I called her when I got home.
“What’s up? I heard you were at the vineyard again and didn’t come say hi. I wasn’t even at the daycare with all those scary babies,” she joked.
“I was there severing my professional relationship with Tyler.”
“Is he quitting the group? He actually told Jeremiah he liked it. And he does NOT open up about shit, let me tell you.”
“I kicked him out,” I said miserably. “Just for this week till I get someone else to take over the group. I’m going to look into starting another section of it that I can lead.”
“You’re running so scared you’re quitting the project you worked on for like a year?”
“No, I’m bowing out because his getting help is more important than my ego. The program will continue. I’ll be a part of it.”
“And if you stayed in the group like you are?”
“Then I would most likely sleep with him and lose my job,” I admitted.
“You’re telling me that the Layla I know and love, the take no prisoners, hold my vibrator while I kick some ass girl is going to walk away from her passion project because she doesn’t think she can control herself around some guy?” Maggie demanded, “And I know. I know what kind of guy we are talking about. I had hate sex with his brother and got pregnant, so it’s not like you’re getting wholesome advice from Sister Mary Margaret.”
“This doesn’t make me less of an independent woman. It means I know my limitations and for some stupid reason, this is a problem I can’t talk my way out of.”
“Ah, this sounds familiar. Did you do the let’s get together to talk about why we can’t see each other thing? Cause, pro tip, that ends with sex.”
“Not likely. We’re going running. I’m going to counsel him informally until the—I don’t know until what, exactly. But I agreed to it,” I said, a little annoyed with myself.
“Also sounds familiar. Like, what did I agree to? And why did I agree to it?” she laughed, “this is like a trip down memory lane. If he takes you on a picnic, make sure your blanket is backed with nylon. If the ground is the least bit wet, it gets soggy otherwise.”