“You seem distracted.” Wyatt is staring at me from across the table as he brings a long-neck bottle to his lips. There’s a part of me—the part that hasn’t been with anyone in so long she forgot what it was like, the part that knows he’s really good-looking—that wants to like him like I think he likes me, but I can’t...I don’t. And it wouldn’t be fair to him to pretend that I do.

“I just have a lot on my mind.” I take a drink of my water and glance over to look out the window we’re seated next to. There’s no way I can tell him what’s really on my mind: I just met the object of my affection, who I peep at through my binoculars while he has sex with women, and who I occasionally stalk. Oh, by the way, he’s also my mother’s therapist. I’m still trying to wrap my brain around that fact.

“You can talk to me, you know.”

I look back at him and smile, but it doesn’t reach my eyes. Maybe I should unload on Wyatt. Maybe then he’d realize what a mess my life is and stop trying so hard. “You don’t want to hear about my problems.”

“If you want to tell me about them, I do,” he says, and I believe him, but it still doesn’t make me want to tell him. I know from the things he’s told me that his family is damn near perfect. His sister, Samantha, is married to a wealthy banker, and they live in Dallas. His parents have been married for over thirty years. His grandparents have been married for almost seventy. They have big family dinners and spend every holiday together. How do I fit into something like that?

I don’t.

“It’s complicated and depressing,” I tell him, picking at what’s left of the sandwich on my plate. “Let’s talk about something else.”

Wyatt does what he does best: he makes it easy. He starts talking about a new account he landed at work. From there, he flows into talking about how he introduced his sister to Jason, her husband. He was one of Wyatt’s frat brothers. They went to Harvard together.

The more he talks, the more I’m reminded of the completely different worlds we come from. I’m not the kind of girl he’s supposed to end up with. He deserves an Ivy League girl, someone who can match his stories of frat parties and fancy beach houses.

What do I have to offer a guy like Wyatt? What does he want with a girl like me?

I spend the rest of the evening nodding and smiling when I’m supposed to. Occasionally, I interject a one-word response, but that’s about it. Wyatt does most of the talking. He really likes talking. Normally, I really like listening, but a girl can only take so much.

When he walks me down the sidewalk to my building, I stop right before we get to the glass door and place my hand on Wyatt’s chest, holding him in place and forcing him to look at me. I don’t want him to miss what I’m about to say. “We’re just friends,” I blurt out. I’ve never been one to beat around the bush. I have a knack for spewing things out when they’re on my mind.

“Yeah. Of course.” He sputters and nods his head, looking down at me like I’m crazy. Maybe I am.

“Okay, good. I just didn’t want to be giving off the wrong vibe or anything. I’m just...I’m not looking for a relationship right now. So, I wanted you to know before you ask me out on another date.” There. That feels better. It’s not the complete truth, but at least he knows I only want to be friends. Mia said guys suck at reading signals and that if I’m not feeling it with Wyatt, I just need to put on my big-girl panties and tell him.

“Friends,” Wyatt says, smiling.

“Friends,” I repeat, nodding my head.

For a second, I think he’s getting ready to say something like, “it’s been nice knowing you” or some cliché phrase people say when they decide to just be friends.

But then he leans over and kisses my cheek, and I stiffen.

What the hell was that?

Did we not just have an understanding? Would he kiss Kyle’s cheek? No. He wouldn’t.

He takes off walking in the direction we came from but turns back to look at me after a few steps. I’m sure he can see the frustration on my face because he chuckles before yelling out, “That was just a friendly kiss on the cheek, Harper.”

I let out a groan and push the glass door open.

“Ah, Miss Harper have date,” Mr. Chan says with a wide smile on his face, his eyes beaming with happiness.

“Just friends,” I tell him before taking the first step. I think about walking back outside and yelling it down the sidewalk to Wyatt’s retreating form. Then I’d really look crazy.

“Okay, Harper. Just friends.” I hear him chuckle to himself, a lot like the way Wyatt did out on the sidewalk.

What is it with men?

Obviously, this friend thing isn’t going to work out.

§

Two days.

A whole forty-eight hours

That's as long as I could stay away from my binoculars...from him.

I tried to stay away, now that I know who he is, but my curiosity got the better of me.

It was odd, though, watching him as he fucked his latest conquest as she leaned over the back of his sofa. Knowing he's a therapist—my mom's therapist at that—makes me even more confused. He has a real job, seems nice and genuinely concerned for his clients' well-being, and yet he screws random women while possibly having no connection with them outside of physical release. He reminds me of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde with what seems like his opposing personalities. I guess what they say about psychologists being as crazy or troubled as their patients is true.

Not that I have any room to judge.

Throwing away last night's empty carton of Chocolate Therapy reminds me of Mr. Walker's—Luke's—lady friend. Her skin was just as dark as the expression on his face as he took her over and over again.

I should forget about him, but I can't. I want to figure him out just as much as I want to be pressed against that window of his.

§

“Earth to Harper!”

My head pops up at the sound of Layla’s voice, my heart racing like I just got caught daydreaming on the job...which is exactly what happened.

“I know you’re not fantasizing about your new banker friend, so who is it, huh? Who has you all secretive and guilty looking? You can’t keep this to yourself much longer. Mia and I will figure it out eventually.”

I want to tell them about Luke. I really do. Layla and Mia are my friends, and I know they wouldn’t judge me. To be honest, it’d be really great to unload everything I’ve been thinking and feeling lately onto them, but I can’t. I’m scared, ashamed, and confused, so my secret remains my own.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Layla.” I walk to the nearest cart full of books needing to be shelved and head to the stacks.

She calls out behind me, “You’re a liar, Harper Evans, and I’ll be watching you.”

Maybe one of these days, I’ll confess.

§

I’m seeing my mom in a couple of hours, and I’m already freaking out. Not about her, of course, but about Luke. Just thinking about sitting in the same room with him again has my palms all sweaty. Would it be bad to have a couple of shots of Cuervo before visiting my mom in rehab?

Part of me wants to dress up a little, make more of an effort in my appearance, but knowing Sadie, she’d call me out if I showed up in anything other than jeans and a t-shirt. Making me squirm with embarrassment is one of her favorite pastimes.

I decide to keep the jeans but wear a pretty blouse Mia gave me for my birthday. I swipe on a coat of lip gloss and rush out the door before I can change my mind and wipe it off.

As I approach the rehab facility, my steps slow, and my heart rate speeds up. Thankfully, there’s a shaded sitting area near the front door. I force myself to sit and close my eyes, trying desperately to calm the fuck down. I honestly don’t know how I’m going to make it through this, but I have to do it. I refuse to back down from Sadie, and I’ll be damned if I pass up an opportunity to share space with Luke.

I wait until fifteen minutes before the session starts to enter the building and sign in. The same lady from last week is at the front desk, and she has the nerve to look surprised that I’m here on time. Bitch.

She gives me a condescending smile after walking me down to the same room that was used last time. As she turns to walk away, I’m about to say something to her when someone across the hall catches my eye.

Long, sleek blonde hair and a face I can’t forget. The snark completely leaves my brain as I recognize the woman as being one of Luke’s girls.

Blondie Ambition.

I’m immediately filled with envy because she’s easily one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen in person. Pair that with the fact Luke’s fucked her against his window more than once, and my jealousy increases tenfold.

“Harper, I’m happy you’re here.”

Oh, shit. It’s him. He’s talking to me, and I can’t say anything because I’m still reeling after seeing his fuck buddy across the hall.

I force a smile onto my face, which probably looks more like a grimace, and do some kind of weird head-bob move that makes me cringe internally.

Keep this up, Harper, and there’ll never be any window fucking for you.

Luke puts his hand on my shoulder and looks at me with sympathy in his eyes. “Don’t be nervous. Today will be a good day. I can feel it.”

The only thing I’m feeling at the moment is the warmth from his hand radiating throughout my body, causing goosebumps to cover my skin. If he notices, he doesn’t react other than giving my shoulder a brief squeeze before opening the door and holding it for me.

He must know the effect he has on women...on me. Unless he thinks I’m always a bumbling idiot. It’s time to pull myself together and act like a normal human being, one that can carry on a conversation and make eye contact without drooling all over myself.

I walk into the room and sit in the same chair as l did last week. Sadie isn’t here yet, so I decide to take a chance and ask Luke a question that’s been on my mind since day one.

“Do you think this is going to work?”

He sits across from me with a sigh and looks me in the eye. “Harper, I can’t discuss your mother’s case with you without her here, but I can tell you her sobriety depends solely on her. She needs to oversee her life, not me and certainly not you. But she also needs support to be successful. It’s a balance between independence and dependency. I’m going to do what I can, but she’ll need you too. Are you willing to be there for her?”

“It’s no secret Sadie and I aren’t close, Mr. Walker, but I want her to be okay...to be healthy. I’ll do what I need to do, but we’ve been down this road before. I’m not expecting puppies and rainbows.”

He laughs, and it’s the most incredible sound I’ve ever heard. I want more of it.

“That’s fair, but please, call me Luke.”

I clear my throat and answer, “Okay,” marveling at the smile he gives me. But then my mom walks in and effectively ruins the moment.

After she sits down, Luke begins. “Hello, Sadie. How are you feeling today?”

My mother huffs out a laugh and pulls her knees up in the chair. She’s lost weight since she’s been here, but even so, she looks healthier. I’m not sure if anything on the inside is changing, but her skin looks better—more color—and her eyes aren’t glazed over. “I’m feeling just peachy.”

Apparently, it’s been a rough day at rehab.

“Care to discuss?” Luke asks, leaning forward and resting his forearms on his knees. I can’t help but stare, watching his every move.

“I’m tired of this place. I’m ready to leave.” Her voice sounds defeated, but there’s little resolve to them. She rests her head against the wall behind her and lets out a deep breath.

“Are you really, or are you just having a bad day?” Luke counters. He pauses for a minute, letting that question linger. “Since we’re on the topic, what are your plans for when you check out of here?”

Sadie barks out a harsh laugh. “I don’t have any.”

“Well, then I think your premature departure wouldn’t be the wisest decision, would it?” he asks calmly.

She shakes her head and wipes a stray tear off her cheek.

“So, let’s pick up where we left off last week.”

“What do you want to talk about?” Sadie asks in a bored tone. If it weren’t for the gorgeous man sitting across from me, stealing all my attention, my mother’s behavior and attitude would be putting me in a bad mood. But I can’t seem to find it in me to care while I’m sharing the same air as him.

“I’d like to talk about triggers today,” Luke says, leaning back in his seat. “Sadie, you and I have discussed in depth the details of when you became an addict, but I think it’s important to discuss the things that kept you using over the last twenty-four years.”

Okay, that’s a mood changer.

I sit further back in my chair and wipe my palms on my thighs. I’d actually like to hear her answer to this. I’ve always wondered myself—the whys. Why she’d get clean only to go back to using. Why she’d choose drugs over her daughter. Why she hated everyone so much. Why her life was so miserable.

Sadie sits quietly for a while. Maybe she’s delaying her response, or maybe she really has to think this hard about it. I’m not sure, but it gives me more time to watch Luke. He’s very patient. It’s not lost on me that in here, he is almost the complete opposite of what he’s like at the window. There, he’s aggressive and impulsive. Here, he’s comforting and calm.

“Sadie,” he says, prompting her.

She lets out a deep breath before she begins. “Escape,” she admits. “Escaping my past, my present, the cards I’d been dealt. Sometimes, I wanted to escape the pain or the guilt, but it was always for an escape from something. In the beginning, I escaped motherhood, and the drugs helped me forget the pain and disappointment of not being able to realize my dreams. When Nolan died, I started using even more to numb the pain of his loss and the guilt I felt for leaving Harper behind. Any time I felt the need to escape life, I would use.”

Luke shifts his eyes toward me but quickly turns them back to my mother. I continue to watch him—the way his jaw tightens and nostrils flare—and I wonder, like I have so many times before, what he’s thinking.

I’m actually kind of shocked to hear her fess up to all of that. I wonder how much she’s told Luke. I wonder if she’s told him that she wishes she never had me—wishes I’d never been born.

“That’s good, Sadie. It’s important to recognize those things. Now that you’re clean, how do you feel when you think about your life—your past, Harper, Nolan?”

Hearing Luke mention my father is weird. It’s strange for him to know so much about me. I guess we both know each other’s secrets.

“Sometimes, when I have a memory come to mind, that’s when I want the drugs the most. I want them so bad that I feel like screaming and crying and breaking down the goddamn door to get to them.”

“It’s okay to scream and cry. Letting those emotions out is good.”

“What about the breaking down the door part?” she asks with a weak smile.

“That’s what we’re trying to help you with. During this next phase of your rehabilitation, you’re going to have to learn to lean on your support system. For now, that’s me and Harper.” He pauses, looking over at me. “Harper, is there anything you’d like to add?”

“Uh, no,” I say, shaking my head.

“These sessions are for you too. If you have something to get off your chest, this is a good place to do it.”

I look over at my mother, and she’s looking at me. Her eyes are tired. I nod my head. “Okay.”

“Well, I guess we’re done for today,” he says, standing from his chair. “I know this is hard, but it’s good for both of you to get all of this out in the open. The road to recovery is long, and a lot of the time, it’s painful. But it’s important to keep the lines of communication open and understand how you got here. Then the healing can begin.”

I nod again, unsure of what to say. His eyes are on me, and just like that, my heart is racing.

“Harper, I’ll see you next week. Sadie, if you need me, you know where to find me.” I watch him walk out of the office. Blondie Ambition is standing on the other side of the hallway, leaning against the wall like she’s waiting on him. My body tenses, expecting to see them interact, but he brushes right past her, like she’s not even there.

“Thank you for coming,” my mother says, forcing my attention away from the hallway and back to her. “I know this is probably uncomfortable for you, and I’m sure you hate me for the things I’ve said and done. I don’t know why you keep coming back, but thank you.”

She touches my cheek, pausing for a second, and then she’s gone too.

It’s been another crazy day at rehab, and I need a cup of coffee to clear my head, so I slip out the door and down the hall, heading straight for the coffee shop across the street.

And maybe I’m hoping Luke will show up like he did last week. Okay, I’m definitely hoping Luke shows up like he did last week.

“One black coffee,” I tell the guy behind the counter. After paying, I step down to the end to wait, and like clockwork, the bell over the door chimes, and I can’t help the small smile that creeps up on my face. He walks straight to the counter, and the guy greets him like he did last week, immediately giving him his order. Luke gives him money and puts a hefty tip in his jar.

As he turns around to leave, he sees me and we both nod and smile.

“Harper,” he acknowledges.

“Great coffee.” Lifting my cup in the air, I internally roll my eyes at my lame attempt to make small talk.

“It’s the best,” he agrees, taking his own cup to his lips.

“It’s a good thing there’s not a bar across the street.” I don’t know why I just said that. Sometimes I say really stupid things.

He laughs, and once again, it’s music to my ears. “They’d make a killing. I’ve told Mac he should consider getting his liquor license.”

The bell above the door chimes again, and in walks Blondie Ambition.

Are you fucking kidding me?

I duck my head, like she might recognize me.

“Luke,” she says as she breezes past him.

“Sarah,” he says with zero emotion in his voice.

“I’ll see you next week, Harper.” He gives me a small smile and walks out the door.

Instead of leaving, I sit at a small table in the corner of the shop, and I watch the woman with long blonde hair, and I wonder what it’s like to be her.