Allyson Reed shapes her life to make her parents proud, but whenever she's with Daxson Winters, the star wide receiver with a troubled past, her perfectly-crafted existence crumbles at the seams.
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My eyes roamed over the shelves inside Dr. Hawthorn's office, landing on a small horse figurine holding up a thick stack of books. "What's your least favorite animal?"
"Hm. If I'm being honest, I dislike cats," Daxson replied from the couch with a shrug.
"What did cats ever do to you?" I questioned.
Daxson chuckled. "Well, D and I found a stray cat with one eye outside our house when I was like ten. We called him Uno and begged Momma to let us keep him. She and Dad ended up going along with it, but it was a big mistake."
I tucked my hair behind my ears and smiled, taking a seat beside him. "I'm kinda scared to ask, but why was it a mistake?"
"He threw up hairballs on my bed. Like out of everywhere in the damn house, Uno chose my bed for all of his nasty undigested cat hair. He also would knock Momma's glass ornaments off the Christmas tree. She really hated that. The thing I disliked the most about him was when he would get mad because Momma bought a different kind of litter. Uno would rebel and just start pissing on everything."
"My grandmother used to say wisteria smelled like cat piss. She hated the smell, but she still grew those crazy purple flowers right beside her house." I glanced over at him.
Daxson's muscular body was stretched across the black leather couch in Dr. Hawthorn's office with his arms propped across the back of it. He lifted his hand to run his fingers through his blonde curls, giving a better glimpse of the beautiful tattoos that covered his forearms. He looked like he was in a couch commercial. If he came with the couch, I'd buy it in a heartbeat.
He yawned as his arm fell to the headrest again. He was calm and at ease despite the fact today would be our last day together for the weekend. I'm glad he's so good at keeping it together because I'm a nervous wreck.
"What about you? What's your least favorite animal?" His voice broke my train of thought.
I tilted my head, causing all my hair to fall to one side of my face. "Would it be lame to say I'm terrified of lizards?"
Daxson tossed his head back with laugh. "A country girl whose scared of a lizard?"
"I thought they were cool until one of the stupid things got into my sleeping bag when we went camping and bit me. I just couldn't look at them the same after that."
"Mean 'ole lizard didn't have to bite you." He smirked from his spot beside me.
I raised my hand to smack his leg when Dr. Hawthorn returned to the room. He tucked his phone into his suit pocket.
"I apologize. My wife went to visit our daughter for Thanksgiving, and she was telling me she had made it safely." He sat down in his chair.
"It's fine." I smiled at him.
"Now, where were we?" He glanced at his notes in his lap. "Ah, yes. How are you feeling about your progress, Allyson?" Dr. Hawthorn asked, crossing his right leg over his left.
