But why not?
“You can see my apartment from here.” Snapping out of my trance, I follow Zanders’ line of sight behind me to the large windows encasing my apartment. “Right there. The top floor.” His voice is soft, his mouth close to my ear. Bending down, he points out the back window to the tall building across the street.
“You live across the street?” I can see his entire apartment from here, and holy hell, it’s nice.
“Now you know where to find me when you’re ready for a repeat of last weekend.”
There’s that sultry voice I’m used to. His tone drips with sex. How is that even possible?
Turning back to face him, Zanders doesn’t move, his lips sinfully close to my own. His stare bounces between my mouth and my eyes, as does mine, before I step away, creating some space between us.
Somehow even wearing a sparkly dress and a platinum wig, he can still turn me on.
Stupid award-winning dick.
“Seems like you’ve been plenty occupied this week,” I retort, needing to put some walls back up. But I don’t know why the hell I would say that. Zanders loves his reputation. Me rubbing it in his face makes me sound like a jealous, petty jerk.
Instead of wearing the gloat I’d assume he’d have, his face falls surprisingly. “Don’t believe everything you see on the internet, Stevie girl.”
A moment of awkward silence lingers between us before my lips lift in an apologetic smile.
Disappointment covers his features as he turns away from my door, needing to meet up with his friends. “See you around.” He shoots me a half-grin, but there isn’t much joy behind it. More so sadness, reminding me that I’m a complete jerk.
20
ZANDERS
“You boys are looking good this season.”
Leaning back on the brown leather couch, I lace my hands behind my head. “It feels like we finally have all the right pieces in place to make a real run at it.”
“Eli’s game-winning goal last night,” Eddie, our mutual therapist, begins. “Boy, that was pretty.”
“Yeah, he made sure to show me the replay more than a few times over drinks last night.”
Maddison always plays better at home than on the road, so it’s no surprise he’s leading the league in points after our two-week home stand. But Eddie knows Maddison as well as I know my best friend, so there’s no need to spell it out. He’s always on top of his game when his family is in the arena.
I, on the other hand, thrive on the hate from visiting stadiums. I’ve become accustomed to being my own support system in every aspect of my life, hockey included.
“How are you feeling about Christmas?”
That question causes me to pause. I’ve tried to avoid thinking about the dreaded family holiday, but of course, Eddie was going to ask. He’s been my therapist for almost a decade now. Our weekly sessions are typically just a conversation between two friends, but Eddie being Eddie, always knows when to find the root of something deeper going on. And him knowing every single sordid detail of my family history, it’s no surprise he brought this up with Christmas around the corner.
But I made a promise to him and myself eight years ago that I would be nothing but honest in our sessions. Brutal honesty has translated into every aspect of my life, and I’ve got to say, it’s incredibly freeing. It’s what’s helped me to overcome a lot of the inner demons I was battling when I was younger.
“I’m dreading it. I don’t even know what we’ll talk about. Lindsey won’t be there to act as a buffer, and I wish I would’ve bailed and made up some excuse instead.”
“This could be a good chance for you and your dad to talk, Zee. He’s clearly making an effort by visiting you.”
“That’s what Logan said.”
“Yeah, well,” Eddie laughs. “Logan should probably rethink her career and join my field.”
Since we were in college, Maddison and I have shared the same therapist, and Eddie has jokingly offered to pay half his salary to Logan for keeping our heads on straight when we aren’t in his office.
“What’s holding you back from having an honest conversation with your dad? You do a great job at it with everyone else in your life.”
“I’m not angry at everyone else in my life.”
“Why are you angry with your dad?”
“Eddie, you know why.”
“Remind me.” His favorite tactic. He knows exactly why and doesn’t need recapping. He just wants to see if I remember why.
“Because he abandoned me the same way my mother did. At the same fucking time. He buried himself in work, and I was left alone with no one.”
“Have you ever asked him why he did that?”
“I don’t need to ask. I know why. He didn’t love me enough to be the dad I needed.”
Eddie’s inhale is deep and resigned. “What do you think, since the two of you will be alone this weekend, you ask him about what happened in those last years of high school?”
Quickly shaking my head, I tell him no. “I don’t care anymore. I’ve distanced myself from the situation, and I love myself enough that I don’t need his love or anyone else’s for that matter.”
“Zee.” Eddie’s head falls back against the gray headrest of his chair. “For the love of God, please tell me that after eight years of us working together, you realize that’s not true.”
Silence overtakes the pristine counseling office that’s been my safe haven for years now.
“Do you not think you’re worthy of love?” Eddie pushes his rimless glasses up the bridge of his nose, his ankle slung over the opposite knee, and his hands folded together. If you opened up your dictionary to the word therapist, I’m pretty sure you’d find a picture of Eddie in his fucking sweater vest.
Clearly, I’m avoiding his question.
“Do you not think you’re loved?” he rephrases.
“I think a few people love me. Maddison, Logan, my sister. But I don’t know if anyone else would love me if they saw the real me.”
“Who is the real you?” Again, Eddie knows this answer.
Rolling my eyes, I remind him. “Someone who cares about his best friends. Someone who is mentally strong because I’ve worked hard for that. Someone who only gets in fights on the ice because I’m protecting my people. Someone who actually spends more time being an uncle than I spend with all the women people think I’m with.”
Eddie continues to nod, all the while scribbling notes on his pad of paper, just as he has for the last eight years.
“Someone who’s afraid to lose the image portrayed for him because people love that guy. I don’t know if they’ll love the real guy, and I don’t know if I’m willing to find out.”
“You’ve always been my most honest client, Zee, but you’ve been lying to the entire world about who you are. For someone who never lies, that’s a pretty big one.”
“Eddie,” I awkwardly laugh. “It’s Wednesday morning. Getting pretty heavy for a Wednesday morning.”
“It’s therapy. What did you expect?” Of course, he won’t let me deflect with humor. He knows me better than that.