Page 4 of The Chance

For the first time ever, I rake my gaze down his band tee clad chest, and when he makes it to my side, I don’t hesitate.

My hand finds the back of his neck and reels him in until our lips are crashing together, and his tongue begs for a taste.

Sighing, I kiss the man back, in public, with music filling my soul and cheers drowning out the lyrics.

And for the first time in my life, I feelfree.

Part I

Chapter One

Mac

“Can you just forgetI ever said that?” I stare expectantly at the shrink across from me, only to receive an arch of her manicured brow in response.

“That’s not how this works, Mac. You know that.”

My nostrils flare with my inhale, and a muscle works in my jaw just as my thumb raps a baseline on my thigh.

“But how is that night relevant to anything?”

Doc taps the cap of her pen against her chin and crosses her ankles. “It has to do with the issues you’re having with your brother.”

“I feel like this is a conflict of interest,” I mutter with a roll to my eyes, and I pick up the beat in my head with my other hand along my knee.

“It’s absolutely within your right to choose someone else to discuss these things with.”

Not only does the idea of rehashing all my life’s problems to yet another stranger have my stomach twisting up, so does the ease of Doc’s statement.

“That. Right there.” She points that pen in my direction. “What just happened in your mind?”

I sigh again.

It seems to be my favorite pastime every time I find myself sitting across from this woman who clearly has all of her shit together.

Which is exactly why I’m seated here, across from all four of her degrees.

And she’s there, with her notepad and her head-shrinking notes.

“I don’t wanna be a burden to another stranger.” Her other brow wings and I roll my eyes. “Right. Watch what I say about myself.” I blow out a breath and rub my palms along my jeans. “I don’t want to start over.”

She nods, jots something, then sets the pad aside. “Back to that night. On the bus with your brother. What happened?”

“I cried like a little bitch.”

“About?” she presses, and my rubbing palms start to itch even more.

I huff. “Shit I can’t have. That’s it. I need to just get over it.”

Doc’s lips purse. “Expecting to justget oversomething you feel strongly about does not make them any less true to you. How you feel is just as important as anyone else.”

“No,” I half snap. “No, it is not.” My jaw works and my eyes shift over the little room.

Unseeing. Unsettling.

“Tell me again.”

My teeth grit and my limbs start to jitter. “Fine. If it’ll get you to stop asking.”

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