Page 38 of The Lessons

She studied my face for a beat longer. I could tell she was trying to suss out if I had any inappropriate reaction to him. It felt a little unfair. I mean, what woman would have anythingbutan inappropriate reaction to a man like Ryan Andrews? I must have fooled her, though, because after a minute she started with another line of questioning.

“Do you have anything in particular you’d like to cover over the next couple of appointments?”

“With you?”

“Well, it could be with me, but I meant with the surrogate. As you know, we check in periodically to design your therapy plan. If you have any particular wishes or ideas, I’d be happy to pass them along to him.”

Ideas? Oh, if she only knew. Ryan Andrews was awakening all sorts of depraved thoughts for me. Things I had only read about inCosmopolitanwere suddenly occupying my mind at night. Was this normal? I chewed my lip, debating various strategies of debauchery as she continued.

“Or you can continue to have him take the lead. He’ll know how to pace things according to how your body is responding,” she offered.

Ah. Right. Something in her tone of voice told me this was the right answer, so I took it.

“I think that sounds good…”

“Great. So, if you don’t mind, Natalie, I’d like to switch gears. I was hoping to talk a little more about you today.”

For some reason, this made me laugh. “I thought we were talking about me?” My clitoris. My vagina. My lessons on intercourse. My orgasms. How much more intimate could we get?

She laughed along with me. “Right. Well, I guess we are talking about your physiology. But let’s move to what’s going on up here and in here.” She tapped her head and then the area above her heart. “I’d like to find out more about why you think you’ve managed to make it all the way to thirty years of age without developing any intimate relations.”

I took a deep breath. I knew my real reasons, but as much as I knew I needed to sort out my head with a trained professional, I didn’t feel up to getting into everything with this woman. This was supposed to be a quick series of appointments. If I started to talk about the foster system and my mom’s cancer and how it had derailed my plan— Well, we’d be here for a while. A long while. I knew that I had enough anger and guilt bottled up inside to keep a psych busy for years, but fixing my head wasn’t the goal. Getting back on track with The Plan was.

“Natalie?”

Shit.I was taking too long to answer. Again.Get out of your fucking head, Reese.

“Uh,” I said, buying some time. “I think…well, there were my old boyfriends; they made me feel unsure of myself, I guess.”Good, yes. Stay with the pre-established script—don’t improv, Reese. Virgos suck at improv.

Dr. Lerner nodded and made some notes. “Do you feel unsure of yourself in other areas of your life?”

I looked at her quizzically.

“Like at work, or with friends and family?”

“I don’t really have much family,” I said dismissively. “And at work I’m pretty focused. So no, I wouldn’t say I feel unsure. Kind of the opposite actually.”

“Why do you think that is?”

Ugh. She was really making me work for it here. Yet instead of concentrating, an image of Ryan floated to the front of my consciousness.What the fuck?It was hard enough to concentrate on figuring out what to say without Mr. Hotness taking up room in my mind.

“Um, why I’m focused at work? Not sure. Just always have been. I like to work hard.”

Subconscious Ryan raised his eyebrows at the wordhard, and I realized I was getting moist down there. I sat up straighter on the couch and took another gulp of water.

“And when you work hard at work, what are the results?”

“The results? Good, I think. I mean, yes. I’ve always done well at work. No complaints there.” I carefully omitted the part about having to take off three years to care for my ailing mother. As right as that decision was, I still felt guilty. I probably would have been much more accomplished by now if I’d been able to work those three years.

“What about your family and friends? What are they like?”

Oh, boy, here we go. “Well, to be honest, pretty nonexistent.”

“Nonexistent?”

“Yeah. I was raised in the foster care system, and my adoptive mother passed away last year.”

“I’m so sorry to hear that.”

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