Page 85 of Control Freak
Gray cast me a dirty look. “How would you like me to make fun of your touch aversion?”
“I don’t know,” I said mildly. “Do you think your Taz aversion is an adequate comparison?”
Gray immediately looked stricken. “God no, I didn’t mean that. I was just?—”
“Way to go,” Bailey said, tone caustic. “You stuck your foot all the way down your throat.”
Flynn slid out from under the pickup, watching us with a wary expression. He didn’t know us that well yet.
“I’m sorry!” Gray held up his hands. “It was a stupid thing to say. I shouldn’t have?—”
I laughed. “I’m just fucking with you.”
His eyes grew huge. “What?”
“You’re definitely more traumatized by that little Chihuahua than I’ve ever been,” I joked.
Bailey snickered. “Ouuuchhh. That’s gotta sting!”
I turned to him. “So, having a nice little break over there? I didn’t realize we’d hired Flynn so you could text.”
“How else can I test what he knows?” Bailey said. “Besides, I think you want me to reply to Mel Weeks about the scholarship she wants to give me, right?”
“Seriously?” I strode forward and looked at the screen Bailey tilted toward me, displaying the message from Mel. “Holy shit, Bails. That’s great.”
“It’s only five thousand bucks,” Bailey said. “Not like a full ride or anything.”
“Hey, that’s five thousand dollars we don’t have to come up with. We’ve still got the financial aid request with the state pending too, but this is really helpful, Bailey.”
He smiled tentatively. “Okay, then. I’ll keep texting while Flynn does the oil change.”
Flynn ducked his head as he wiped his hands on a rag. “I can do it. I’m learning fast.”
“I’m sure you are,” I said. “I was just giving Bailey shit. If you can do an oil change on your own, then by all means, have at it.”
Flynn smiled tentatively. “Will do.”
Gray checked the clock. “You headed out for therapy?”
“Doing it remotely today. I’ll be on a video session in my office. If you need something, you can pop in. I might just need a minute to wrap it up.”
“We’ll be fine for an hour,” Bailey said with an eye roll.
“Well, sure, you’ve got Flynn to do all the heavy lifting. Don’t sprain a finger there, Bailey.”
“This one?” Bailey said, flipping me the bird. “I’ll be careful. It’s real important to me.”
I laughed. “All right, smart-ass.”
Banshee got a few more head pats, took a potty break outside, and then we returned to my office. I shut the door behind me. I didn’t mind if my brothers sought me out if they needed something, but I also didn’t want them hearing every word I said.
I returned to my seat, Banshee retaking her place warming my thighs, and I opened the link to the video chat that Dr. Levy had emailed me.
She appeared on the screen in a floral-print halter top, with sunglasses propped on her head and cheeks tinted pink by the sun. “Hello, Holden! And who is this?”
My dog was in full view of the camera, showing off her famous Samoyed smile. “This is my girl, Banshee.”
“Ah, yes, you’ve mentioned her,” Dr. Levy said with a smile. “I’m glad to see how comfortable you are together. That must be great.”
