Winning His War

47

47.

Jem's POV

"So, how exactly is this going to help," I sighed as Andrew looked around the hair care isle carelessly but excitement shone brightly in his eyes.

"You said your end goal was to eventually be able to live without the tight schedule. This is how we start. Small, controlled changes can help you break out of the routine you've been following for the past few years," Andrew said as he continued to look. "Over time the changes will become bigger and more important to your day to day life."

"I don't like where this is going," I admit.

Patrick leaned against the full shopping cart as Andrew walked deeper into the isle, getting dangerously close to the hair dye section.

Patrick's eyes widened a bit as he pieced together everything. A small smile covered his face as he followed Andrew while I tried to hover around the exit.

"You at least get to pick the color," he soothed but it did little to actually help.

There had been a time when dying my hair had been fun. Picking the colors, staying up late, joking to with Dev and Barrett as the color processed; it was nothing more than a way to pass the time on a long weekend.

Now just the thought of dying my hair made my chest feel tight as my hands began playing with themselves.

"We don't have time for this today," I brushed off with a smile. "We'll come back some other time for this."

"What else are you going to do," Patrick scoffed as he picked up one of the boxes, taking in the dark green color before scrunching up his nose and putting it back. "You just got off bed rest yesterday, there's nothing you can do so might as well fill the time some how."

"I know a better way to fill the time," I teased, as I looked him up and down slowly before sending him a wink. He blushed and looked back at the colors, trying to avoid the subject but I could tell I had gotten to him.

Just a few more smartass comments before I had him on my side and ready to leave, Andrew would be out numbered and would have no choice but to follow us if he wanted a ride back.

At least that was my hope until Andrew turned to face me with a serious expression. His voice lowered when he approached me with a small glare on his face.

"You told me to help you," he reminded me with a stern voice that didn't sound very convincing. "This is how you start. We both know you are the kind of person who won't start self help unless you're forced to, so consider yourself forced and remember that you asked me for this."

I openly scowled at his point as my fists tighten at my sides.

"Liam seems to think I need your help," I said as if it were no big deal while I stirred the pot in front of me. Andrew sat in front of me at the breakfast bar, watching every step I made in order to someday copy the skills I had adapted.

With Patrick still away at work and Dev and Barrett at the warehouse, I didn't bother whispering or having the conversation in silence.

"Liam thinks that? Or you do and don't want to admit it?" He asked honestly with a small frown. When I don't answer his frown grows before he sighs. "I'm so happy that you admit you need help but I don't think I should be the one to help."

A glare falls on my face before I have a chance to stop it.

"Don't give me that look," he sighed. "With the relationship we have, friends with benefits or what ever you want to call it, it would cloud the therapist/patient relationship we would try to build. It would hurt more than it would help. I could get you recommendations though. I know several great therapists who would be happy to help you. I could give you a few referrals."