Page 69 of Redeeming Rabbit

He scoffed. “You don’t think so, huh? That your professional opinion?”

“Seriously, go fuck yourself.” I didn’t care for the way he was eyeing me.

“What if I promise to just listen?”

It felt like a trap, but I was intrigued. Then again, that could have been the alcohol. “Why? So, you can tell Link exactly how fucked up I am?”

He slid down the wall, crossing his legs to sit on the platform behind and to the right of me. “No, Rabbit. That’s not how this works. Anything you say to me is confidential. Well, as long as you don’t pose an immediate threat to your own physical safety or the safety of others. That shit, I do report to Link.”

“And that happens?” I asked, legitimately interested. If some of my brothers were plotting sketchy shit, I wanted to know.

He gave me a cryptic smile. “And Ionlyreport it to Link. Think I’d tell your crazy ass anything?”

“The fuckin’ audacity.” I turned to gape at him. “Did you just call me crazy?”

He shrugged. “You’re drunk on the top of a fire escape. Am I wrong?”

Despite my irritation at his intrusion, I chuckled and tried to toast him, remembering he’d taken my bottle. Perhaps he had a point.

“Come on, Rabbit. Talk to me. Tell me what’s got your tail in a twist.”

I knew I shouldn’t say shit, but I was having a hell of a time remembering why. In fact, now that I was thinking about them, the words wanted to spill out. And I was tired. So fucking tired of keeping it all in. Fuck it. I let the words fly. “I took my shot and missed. We’re talkin’ air fuckin’ ball. No golden buzzer for this Rabbit.”

He stared at me for a solid minute before finally responding. “Am I supposed to know what that all means? Because I’m lost. Care to elaborate?”

“I fucked up. Again.” I chuckled, but there was no humor behind it. “But hey, I’m nothing if not consistent. That has to count for something, right? You know the definition of insanity, Mr. Shrink? Doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result. No matter what I do, no matter what I try, the outcome is always the same. Everything I touch turns to shit.”

I expected his psychobabble mode to engage, but Sage surprised me. He didn’t argue. Didn’t try to tell me my theory was wrong. He simply asked, “What happened?”

Turning away, I leaned against the metal railing, staring at the ground but seeing Elenore’s face when I’d told her I’d be her dinner date. She’d had “concerns” but trusted me, and I’d only let her down.

“I’ve been seeing this woman who’s way out of my league. She needed me to be there for her, her plus one at a fancy dinner. I didn’t just drop the ball; I kicked a field goal. Fuckin’ panicked and bailed. And you know what she did? She came after me.” My laughter sounded hollow and abrasive. “Told me she loves me, then promised to reward me with a blowjob if I get help.”

Sage was silent, so I glanced over my shoulder. He looked so shocked I almost laughed, but he wrestled his expression into impassivity and nodded. “Everyone needs help sometimes, Rabbit. There’s no shame in that.”

“Oh yeah?” I snapped. “Then what the fuck’s wrong with you? What do you need help with?”

I didn’t expect him to answer, so it surprised me yet again when he said, “I have commitment issues.”

I snorted. That was nothing. “You and half the population.”

“No. I don’t think you understand. I’d rather jump from this fire escape than tie myself to one person. And considering my fear of falling, that’s sayin’ a hell of a lot. For me, the most terrifying thing you said was about this woman telling you she loved you. If a broad said that to me, I’d probably move out of the state.”

Talk about dramatic. “What about the club?”

“Link would understand.”

I doubted it. “And are you seeing a shrink about your problem?”

“No. Therapy is for people who want help, and I don’t. The best way to get over a commitment phobia is to commit, and I sure as shit don’t want to do that.”

I’d likely have a hard time wrapping my brain around his confession sober, but right now, it made no sense. If it wouldn’t screw up her life, I’d tie myself to Elenore’s in a heartbeat. What the fuck was there to be afraid of?

“You’d prefer suicide or moving over dealing with your shit. Got it. How the fuck are you a shrink?”

“Look, I’m trying to be real with you because I think you’ve had enough bullshit. You want me to blow smoke up your ass, bend over.”

I huffed out a laugh. “I’ll pass.”

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