Page 54 of Defending What is Mine

I sit up. “Where are we going with this?”

“From the way you two seemed together, I’d guess you don’t really need either of my motivation techniques.” He rubs his chin with his thumb and forefinger. “Not with someone like her in your corner.”

I feel my brow raise in agreement and nod my head as I reach for my water bottle. “Yeah, don’t ask me why she’s in my corner, but”—I gulp down the last of the liquid—“I do know I’m lucky as hell she’s there.”

“Good. That’s the sort of thing that can make all the difference. So, if I push my luck with another guess, do I have her to thank for the one-hundred-and-eighty degree change in your attitude about therapy?”

I give him the side eye.

“Hey, no offense. I’m just saying. Based on first impressions, I thought for sure you were going to be one of the guys who needed my positive attitude as a motivator to put in your work so you could get the hell away from me.”

“And I’ve somehow changed your mind about that?”

He chuckles again. “You’ve got something a lot more powerful driving you now. I see it in the way you’re coming at this.” Derek pats my shoulder and stands. “It’s a good thing. And, it’s the reason I know you’ve got another twenty minutes in you,” he says, clapping his hands. “Come on. Keep your eye on that prize.”

God help me. Just put in the work. Just put in the work—the more you do, the faster you can get the hell away from him. And home to her.

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