Bully stepbrother

29. Another session

MADISON

Today has been a little different compared to the past few days.

Besides my stepbrother's issues, everything else has been smooth.

I've had some clients at work that my supervisors think to match my current studies as I work through my training, and I surprisingly aced the test we took last week, even though I was going through hell when I wrote it. I know, right? I'm a genius.

Okay, back to the present.

It's almost nine at night, and the sky is dark; you can barely find a star. Most of the workers have closed for the day, but I haven't, since I have a late evening appointment with a client who happens to be a famous basketball player from the state and Reagan believed I could handle his session.

Although I'm not alone, lucky me, my friend Asher is keeping me company and staying around during Bryan Tatum's session. Yes, it's all about fanboying.

Bryan Tatum is a very famous young man, having everything most men would wish for: money, fame, power, and good looks. He can make a woman swoon with just a look, scratch that, he can make men swoon too. Right now, during our session, there are security personnel all around the building, just in case there's any disturbance.

This leaves me wondering why Bryan Tatum chose an amateur psychologist like me for an appointment when he's well aware on my experience. I mean, there's Reagan, the best therapist in town, so why me?

I know I've been a little obsessive and overexcited, but can you blame me? He's so incredibly cute, towering over me, and he's got the most attractive smile and a physique perfectly suited for his profession.

The funny part is, I had no idea he was the person I was meeting today because he used a fake name to conceal his identity. So, when he walked into my office, my breath caught in my throat, and I froze. For a moment, the roles were reversed, and he ended up becoming the therapist, while I was the patient, able to only blink as he guided me back to my seat.

"I don't know, maybe we should reschedule this meeting for another time," he suggested when I couldn't compose myself.

"No, umm... No, no! Ahh, I'm all ears," I grinned, my expression undoubtedly awkward.

His smile was lopsided. Damn, his teeth were paper white and shone like crystal.

"Okay, uhm," he began, rubbing his hand over his clothed thighs. Maybe I was making him uncomfortable, or maybe what he was about to confess was making him uneasy. Either way, he looked quite nervous, which led me to contemplate why there's always an attractiveness in nervous men. "I received an offer, a generous one, actually. I think I'd like it, but it's hard to choose because where I currently am, it's difficult to detach, you know."

My eyes widened, and without thinking, I exclaimed, "Are you quitting your team? Oh my God! I can't believe you'd leave just like that. Everyone in this state looks up to your games. And now you're leaving us? I should have known better. You're such a disappointment."

I was panting by the time I finished, and Bryan's eyes narrowed at me, his lip curling up. Believe me, it was one of the most embarrassing moments of my life.

So, I forced a smile, a very awkward one, and amended my statement, "That's what a fan would say, but since I'm not your fan, I'll tell you the truth."

Knowing I couldn't escape from this moment, I cleared my throat, appearing attentive. Hopefully, when Reagan listens to the recordings she will let it slide.

A smile tugged at his lips before he folded them between his teeth. He briefly dropped his eyes to the floor and then back at me.

Yes, I know, I just humiliated myself. Must he rub it in my face? He shouldn't be surprised I'm a fan; it's California, for God's sake. Everyone is a fan of something.