Page 32 of For You & No One Else (Say Everything 3)

“I think you’re right where you need to be. You’re a great therapist.”

She picked at a piece of lint on the arm of her sweater. “Thanks, but how would you even know?”

Beckham shrugged. “Because the first day we spent together, you had me confessing shit I never talk about to anyone.” His gaze held no jest. “You’re easy to talk to.”

The comment warmed her and she smiled. “Thanks.”

His lips hitched at one corner. “Plus, you somehow got me to adopt an evil genius cat. Your ability to direct someone into a new behavior is impressive. Even if that cat may end up killing me.”

She gave him a knowing look. “You know you love Trent. And by the way, let’s not ignore the fact thatyou’vebeen trying to directmeinto new behavior since then, too. Maybe you should’ve gone to school for therapy instead of hacking.”

He gave her awho me?look and put a hand to his chest. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Uh-huh. But for what it’s worth,” she said with a sigh, “I think your advice about not going public with my off-line dating experiment is sound.”

“Really?”

“Now that the video is down, I think it might be a bad idea to bring attention to it. Hopefully, not too many people who know me saw it, and I can keep comments on my sites closed until this cools down. I don’t want people going out and searching—like,what video is she talking about? If any clients bring it up in session, I’ll deal with it on an individual level.” She didn’t offer that she wasn’t giving up on the book idea. “Plus, maybe it’s time I take a step back from not just online dating but the online stuff in general. Going through this, seeing how ugly it can get… I don’t know. Maybe a break would be good. I feel really…over it right now.”

He considered her, as if gauging how serious she was. “I’m sure your followers would understand if you put up a note about a digital detox or something. That’s wellness focused, right? On brand and all that.”

“Sure. I’ve recommended that kind of thing to my clients before.” She made a chagrined sound. “It’s more a matter of if I can actually do it. You should’ve seen me in the Uber this morning with no social media to distract me. I thought I was going to jump out the window. But Iknowthat’s a sign that I probably need to do a detox. Fear crops up when we’re headed toward growth and all that jazz, blah, blah, blah.”

He laughed, a sharp bark of a sound. “Therapy, blah, blah, blah. Mental health, blah, blah, blah.”

She smiled and wiggled her fingers jazz-hands style. “Healer, heal thyself, blah, blah, blah.”

“For what it’s worth, it’s survivable,” he said. “Life without social media. I manage. I still have a social life. And fun fact: meals that you don’t take a photo of still taste good.”

She sniffed. “You sound like a pretentious asshole.”

“When it comes to this, I definitely am,” he said unrepentantly. “But what can it hurt to give it a try for a little while? I’m happy to provide pretentious moral support.”

“You are?” She gave him a skeptical look. “Why?”

“Mainly because I like to be right. You do this, and I guarantee you’re going to feel better…and probably will find guys you actually can enjoy spending time with by the end of it. Then,”—he put his hands out to his sides—“I can gloat about how badass I am at giving advice, andto a therapistno less. Big feather in my cap.”

She stared at him for a moment and then snort-laughed. “You’re a special snowflake, Beckham Carter.”

“Yes, my friends tell me that all the time.”

She rolled her eyes. “Fine. I’m in. I’ll take your bet. Let’s say I’ll go off social media, dating apps, and my YouTube for six w—”

“Months.”

Her eyes widened. “Months?”

“You’re not going to get any real effect from six weeks,” he said. “Too easy to just fall back into old habits.”

Panic tried to well up again. She’d planned to take a good chunk of time off of dating apps for the book—but social media, too? What would that even look like? Six months without those connections? “That’s a long time.”

“Make the big move, Eli. The grand gesture,” he said. “Those are the ones that make a difference. You don’t tell an alcoholic to just stop drinking for a few weeks.”

Ugh, she couldn’t argue with that logic. Even though she wouldn’t classify this as a true addiction for herself, she needed time to create a new normal to get a real feel for what it would be like. She needed to wipe the slate clean and see where she was at—what was truly adding to her life and what was stealing from it. “Okay. Six months.”

He smiled like she’d given him a prize, and he put out his hand. “Shake on it?”

“What happens if I don’t make it six months?” she asked. “We should have stakes.”

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