Page 22 of The KING Review

“Are you sure?” I don’t mean to cut him off, but the words are out before I can stop them.

Grant’s head pops up, eyes meeting mine. His mouth falls open, and he hesitates. “No,” he says quietly.

I swallow hard. This feels heavy, even though it isn’t real—or, it’s not supposed to be. But something in it feels like a corollary. I don’t suspect his ex-wife was physically abusive, but it sure seems like she did a number on him emotionally.

I know what it looks like when someone has internalized a lot of bullshit.

I’ve had my fair share of crap to unlearn and unpack from my parents. I know Fia did too, and I know we’ve both worked hard to do so.

The rest of the session goes by in much the same fashion—me trying not to draw real-life parallels or make things personal when I see myself or even possibly Grant in his little made-up script—until he leans over to his laptop and hits a button to stop the audio recording.

“Thank you, Miss Hart,” he says quietly. “I’ll see you again next week. Same time.”

“That’s it?” I ask.

Grant glances up, setting his clipboard on the desk. “That’s it,” he echoes.

I stand from my seat, but before I can make myself leave, I turn back to him, books clutched to my chest. “So, how does this affect our bet?”

Grant frowns. “Our bet?”

“Yeah, our bet.” I tilt my head, letting a smile curve my lips. “You’re not exactly going to be begging to see me or touch me if you get to see me here every week, are you?”

His brows lower further. “It’s not like we can help this. It’s a professional obligation.”

I shift my weight. “Maybe… maybe we could add voice notes to our challenge.” I shrug, like it’s not a big deal, even though I know it is.

“How would that work?” He leans back in his chair, performing casual—and failing. I can see the tension wrought through his body.

“Well, this is like… a release valve. I don’t get to have you as desperate because you get to see me here. So, let me have another weapon with voice notes.” I smirk again. “You told me my voice is dangerous.”

“Using voice notes gives me another weapon, too,” he says evenly.

“I know that.” I shrug again. “I don’t mind.”

Grant props an elbow on the desk, rolling his lips in as if he’s contemplating. His throat works with a swallow, and he scrubs a hand over his face. “Don’t you think that would be… too much?”

My lips part, though I try to hide how stunned I am by the words, and how hard they hit me. There’s a lot of unpacking that I’ve done, but being ‘too much’ is one that still gets me. It’s a trigger point, you could say. I swallow hard, taking a step back.

“You’re right,” I say quickly, but my voice is all air. “I’m sorry. I’ll back off.”

Grant knows something is wrong instantly—of course, he does—and he leans forward, so the chair squeaks. I can tell he knows he’s hit on something, but also that he’s confused about what exactly it was. “Wait, Neve⁠—”

“No, you’re right,” I cut him off, voice high and too bright for the room. “I’m being too much. I’m sorry I pushed you.”

“Whoa, no,” he says quickly. “I didn’t say that you’re too much, Neve. You didn’t⁠—”

“Thank you, Doctor King.” I turn to the door, holding my books to my chest with one hand and reaching for the handle with the other, but before I can open it, Grant’s long, thick fingers close around my wrist.

The air stops moving in my lungs. I think it stops moving in the room, too.

“Neve,” he says, voice low and careful, but a little rough. I don’t turn to face him, but I don’t try to leave either. “If you pushed me, I’d have used our safe word. I told you that, remember?”

I nod, still feeling shaken, but I can’t turn around and look at him. I don’t want him to look at me, because I’m about a second away from a really embarrassing collapse.

I just nod again—it’s all I can do—and slip my hand from his grip. I force a smile even though I’m not sure if he can see my face. “Yes. I remember. Sorry, Doctor King, but I have to get to my next class. Excuse me.”

This time, my hand makes it to the handle, and I shove out of the lab and get as far away as possible as fast as possible, feeling like a fucking fool.