Patient

13

Ryanne

"What was his last name again?"

"Dr. Fallon. Go look for him at the psychology department."

I make a mental note of the information Sylvain gave me before heading to the coffee shop I work for a quick snack. I couldn't make it to my next class after my break down with Sylvain.

Finally agreeing to her request wasn't as hard as I thought. In certain points, she is right. I need to talk to someone, for so many years I've kept bottled up my feelings of the things that have spiraled around me. It's time to let the ugliness fly out to let some beauty in and finally heal.

On that note, now I have a meeting in about forty minutes with Dr. Fallon, college of Sylvain and the head of the psychology department of UC. Arriving rather fast at Oh My Coffee, I greet Blake and Jean, my coworkers, as I order and sit in a small corner table.

The idea of spilling my guts to a person scares the bejesus out of me. It's like when you have a one night stand and all you can do is wish he doesn't judge your appearance as you are being bared of your clothing. All of me, exposed and raw.

After finishing my caramel mocha and classic strawberry cheesecake, I go in search of the psychology department. Thanks to the help of a student I reach Dr. Fallon's office. My hand shaking as I raise it to knock on his door. "Come in." He answers in a gruff voice.

After a few beats and deep breaths, I walk in. Dr. John Fallon looks like a young version of Johnny Depp with the kindest of eyes. "Uh...good afternoon Dr. Fallon, I'm...uhh...the girl Professor Keller spoke to you about..." I trail off nervous, not knowing what to say next.

Remembering, he gestures me in with a wave of his hand and directs me to sit in front of me. "So, Miss..."

"Ryanne, Ryanne Raegan."

"So Miss Raegan, Professor Keller said she was worried about you and how you're dealing with a series of events that have happened in your life, is that correct?"

I manage a nod.

He continues. "Here at the university we have two counselors and three psychologists available. I would recommend one of the psychologists rather than a counselor but that is your choice. There is one of the psychologists that was my student, top of the class, valedictorian on his promotion and has good reputation on campus. He's young and has had his fair share of bad fortune, so he would understand what you're going through. You might feel identified with him."

"What's his name?"

"Dr. Trenton. Kellan Trenton."

I choke on my own spit. Kellan Trenton, my neighbor, my sexy neighbor, my sexy neighbor who I kissed this morning, my sexy neighbor who has been very present in my mind the whole day.

"Oh dear God, are you okay?" He asks truly concerned.

I cover my mouth and raise a hand signaling for him to stay calm that I am fine. Do I want him to know everything about me? Do I trust him enough? Supposedly, psychologists shouldn't know their patients but what if this works in my favor. What if we manage to get closer? It could backfire as well but would I trust any of the others. Sensing my uncertainty he say, "We have an oath of secrecy. Any information disposed cannot be divulged by any means."

Finally deciding I nod. "Okay, so when can I meet him?"

~ • ~

The appointment is set for tomorrow afternoon and I am filled with anxiety. What will he think? What will his reaction be? But, the only constant memory throughout the whole day is that kiss. That all-consuming, fervent kiss. In all the classes left for the day, Before driving home, I pick up a pepperoni pizza.

As I am going up the steps to my floor I see a foot against my door, that is connected to a calf, that joins with a thigh, to continue with a white shirt clad torso, finishing off with a sexy ass face with a light shadow peppering his nice jaw, his blue eyes lighting up.

"What are you doing there?" I ask. Why does my voice sound so breathless? Shit! Why is he making me breathless?

He smiles blindingly, beautifully, captivatingly, down at the ground first, then looking back at me. "Not for what you think." He starts stalking my way, and once in front of me he says, "Hold out your hand."

My brows furrow, a question in my eyes.

"Just trust me."

Sighing I hold out my hand, palm up. He places a small, silver key in the palm of my hand and my eyes almost come out of there sockets.

"Why, what?" I say, not understanding why he is giving me this key.

He puts his finger in the middle of my lips and immediately I shush. The minute he touches me, a sense of awareness overcomes me, heating my skin. My heartbeat skips, my breathing turning into small pants. Why is he doing this to me?

"It's not what you think. It's the key to my place. If by any chance I get locked out again, I know you have my way back home."

I don't know why I feel those words have more meaning than they actually do but I let them pass. His finger is still on my lips and I look down on it then back up at him as if saying that he can take it back now. He does, a smirk shadowing his face.

Leaning down, he speaks right next to my ear, "I know what you're thinking and just let me tell you one thing," His breath teases my skin, making goosebumps raise on it as he gets even closer to whisper the last part. "I've never made a promise I don't intend to fulfill."

With that, he walks back to his apartment. Once I hear his door close I have realized one thing. The pizza is not hot anymore, I am, I have absorbed it all.