Page 15 of Volatile

“Excuse me?” She jerked her head around. “Wes is not dull, and if Lily has a problem with his gentle disposition, then she has more issues than I thought. A girl shouldn’t want to be treated like garbage.”

“I’m sure Wes is a very nice guy, but that’s not the point here. And I didn’t bring him up to upset you.”

He needed to curb this conversation while still ahead. A few more wrong words and their truce would be null and void. Perhaps he shouldn’t have used the word “dull” to describe her boyfriend, but from what he already knew of him? Yeah, he fucking was.

Jon placed his hand on her arm, meant as a calming gesture, but it appeared she didn’t take it that way. She humphed, yanking it from him. “I’m not upset.”

“Good to know.” Soon they’d both see how not upset she really was when her glass shattered inside her white-knuckled grip.

He slipped another ice cube into his mouth, waiting for her cue. If there was anything else she needed to say, now was the time. Because as far as he was concerned, their meeting was over. They’d come to a mutual agreement regarding Lily, so the only thing left was to schedule that next session and then—

“You’re really something, you know that?” Her voice was the same temperature as the cube on his tongue. “Do you think I’m naïve? Do you think this hasn’t happened to me before? I’m twenty-six, old enough to have run into plenty of men like you.” She shook her head several times. “Asking about my boyfriend, trying to make me question and doubt things so you can swoop in and have a shot with me. Well, sorry to say you’re shit out of luck. I’m not interested.”

He couldn’t stop the smirk. This was getting mighty entertaining. Ivy fired off a round of daggers, but too bad for her; he was immune. “What is so damn funny?” she hissed out.

“I’m not sure who is making you doubt your relationship, but it’s definitely not me.” He leaned closer. “Did you ever think that maybe part of the reason you’re so combative is because you’re also craving a little more excitement in your life?”

Her eyes bugged out, then narrowed into slits. “I cannot believe you just said that. How dare you assume you know my life when you don’t even know me.”

He retreated back, putting more space between them, and debated if he should wave the bartender over for another. “What you’ll soon discover about me, Ivy, if you haven’t already, is that I have this nasty habit of only speaking the truth. It’s one of the reasons why I’m such a successful therapist. I also happen to be an excellent judge of character.”

Was he throwing her for a loop? Good. Because she’d done it to him too many damn times already.

“Well, you’re wrong this time. Dead wrong. I have plenty of excitement in my life, more than I can handle.” Her face looked like she’d spent the last hour under a heat lamp. “My relationship with Wes is smoking hot.”

“Happy to hear that.”

Ivy pushed her chair away from the bar and hopped off the stool. “The passion is frickin’ unbelievable.” She put her hands on her hips, and he bit back a laugh. The woman was just digging herself in deeper and deeper. “I don’t see a ring on your finger, Jon. Are you currently involved with anyone?”

“No.”

“And how old are you?”

“Thirty-five.”

“Hmm... Thirty-five and single. I find it pretty funny that you’re the one giving me relationship advice. It should be the other way around.”

“I’m all ears.”

“Well, then.” She glared at him. “You could learn a thing or two from me. And, well... you should be so lucky. I’ve been with Wes for years, and it feels no different than that very first day.”

“At least you’re being honest now.”

Her arms dropped to her sides, looking like they were going to snap in two. She snatched her purse off the stool. “I need to leave now. I still have to run home and change before work. Thank you for the drink and for meeting with me. I trust you’ll remember in the future that your sessions are with my sister, not with me. My life is not up for analysis.”

“Of course.”

“I’ll be in touch.”

He smiled. “I’m sure you will.”

In classic Ivy-style, she spun around on her heels and marched towards the door, straight and purposeful. Jon watched her leave, then slid off the stool, slapping a few twenties on the bar top. He was done as well, suddenly deciding that a third drink wasn’t needed.

He was more relaxed than he’d been in a long time.

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