Sidelined: A Wilde Players Dirty Romance by A.M. Hargrove, Terri E. Laine Page B

lifetime.”
    “When?” Gina asks.
    “When what?”
    “Are you leaving?”
    My parents are due back in a few weeks, so I can’t leave until then.”
    “Please don’t do anything rash, but give me some time. And I swear there has to be an explanation for this. If you even knew how much she despises the fuckturd, you would know.”
    “She sure has an odd way of showing it.”
    “Besides that, what about your therapy?”
    “I’m going to see if I can find another therapist.”
    Gina huffs into the phone, “You know she’s the only one in town pretty much. You’ll have to go all the way to Asheville.”
    “Then fine. I can manage that.”
    “When’s your next session?”
    “It’s supposed to be this afternoon. She was doing work for me on the side.”
    Gina asks, “What do you mean by was ?”
    “I’m not sure if I’m going.”
    “You have to go. Don’t you want to get better?”
    “Well, yeah. But I also don’t want to torture myself either. Besides, I have the shits of a hangover.”
    “Hmm. Came home and tied one on, huh?”
    “What do you think?”
    “Fletcher, go to therapy. Call me later.”
    She hangs up, and I’m left trying to make a decision. The bottom line is I need to get better, and who am I kidding? This will be every bit as uncomfortable for her as it will be for me. I’m in.
    When I show up, she’s already there, and I relax a little. There was a part of me that wondered if she would stand me up. I walk inside, and the place is empty since it’s the weekend. My knee bothers me some with all the damn striding I did last night as I head to the back.
    “In here, Fletcher.” I follow her voice to the conference room. She sits at the table and says, “Take a seat.” Her hand indicates where I should sit, which is across from her. I ignore it and take the seat closest to her. I want her to squirm. But she’s not playing my game. She jumps up and says, “I need to lock the front door.” When she returns, she takes the seat across from me. I let her have this moment, but I’ll get her back some way.
    “I … we need to talk.”
    “I doubt there is anything we have to talk about. I would prefer to get down to business.”
    “But—”
    “Cassidy, you made it perfectly clear where your interests lie last evening.”
    “No, I … that’s to say, it wasn’t like that.”
    “So, you’re telling me I didn’t fucking see you kissing your ex. Is that correct?”
    “Yes. No.”
    “Which is it, Cassidy?” Impatience is clear in my tone.
    “Neither. He kissed me, and I pushed him away, but I guess you were too busy with your groupies to notice.”
    “Back to that, are we?”
    “Yes! No, I mean, I saw you leave with one.”
    “Like I saw you kissing your ex?”
    “Dammit, will you listen for once? He kissed me .”
    “And you let him. You two were awful cozy on the dance floor.”
    She huffs, “Again, his doing, not mine. I pushed him off me. But you left before you saw that.”
    “Just like you saw my groupie and me, huh?”
    “This is all a misunderstanding.”
    “No, this is you screwing with my head, and I don’t like head games.”
    She doesn’t utter a word, but I can tell she’s fuming as much as I am.
    “Let me tell you something. I am this close to ruining my career,” I pinch my thumb and index finger close together, “because I opted to stay here with you as my therapist. And do you know why? I’ll spell it out for you, if you haven’t gotten it already. Because I wanted to convince, persuade, or whatever, you to believe that we could work as a couple. I love you—have never stopped loving you—since day one. And then last night I see you kissing that dickface. Yes, I may have put my arm around that woman, but I did nothing more than that. Quite honestly, I don’t even know her name. I left the club in such a hurry I’m not even sure what happened to her. Can I help it if a damn pack of women hang around me? Should I pepper spray them? Tell me