“We don’t have to go,” Megan replied shyly. “I know art isn’t your thing.”

  “You know, I assume it isn’t. But how can I know if I don’t try, right? Maybe with your expertise at my side, I might see it in a different light. You can explain the differences to me and how to interpret it.”

  “I’ll try.”

  “That’s all I can ask for,” Declan replied softly. That tiny conversation held more meaning than he let on, but by the expression on Megan’s face, he was pretty sure she understood. Everything was worth a try. It was okay to go outside your comfort zone. If you had someone by you who you could trust, you could accomplish things you might not otherwise, which meant it was okay to depend on someone. And if you were willing to try, you couldn’t fail because trying in itself was the hardest part. That courage to give it your all was the toughest step.

  Declan ended up appreciating the art exhibit more than he expected. He was pretty sure it was thanks to the company. Watching Megan light up like a Christmas tree every time she saw a piece she liked was worth not really understanding the intrigue himself. He watched her face, learning and memorizing the little lines, the quirks she made when different emotions passed through her. She was the only piece of art he was interested in studying.

  It took some convincing on Declan’s part, but he was able to get Megan to go up to the artist.

  “I hear it’s a courtesy to let the artist know you’ve enjoyed their work if you have.”

  “You’ve heard right.” Megan nodded.

  “Well, there is the artist.” He motioned and her eyes followed before snapping back to him.

  “What? No. I couldn’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “I…I…I don’t know.”

  “What are you afraid of in this situation? What is stopping you from going over there and telling him how much you liked his pieces?” He had enjoyed the time with her, but in the back of his mind, he still knew that this was about helping her, and that’s what he was trying to do.

  “What if I can’t shake his hand, and he expects me to.”

  “You shook my hand the first time we met.”

  “I had to talk myself into it. And that was different.”

  “Oh, I’m different now, am I? Hmmm, I’ll take that as a good thing,” he teased.

  She smiled, the tension visibly leaving her. “It’s a good thing,” she responded.

  “Okay, well, I just talked you into it. Besides, I’ll come with you. You don’t look comfortable, I’ll get you out of that situation. You trust me, right?”

  She nodded, and they went to find the artist. She was flawless. She introduced herself and when he kissed her hand, she didn’t shy away. Declan felt like a proud parent in that moment. It probably helped that he kept his hand on her back, almost possessively. If he thought about it, deep down, he was sort of staking his claim on her, but he allowed himself to believe it was so she could feel his reassurance. Besides, what claim could he possibly stake?

  They went to dinner at a nice Italian restaurant that Declan loved. It was better than a diner but nothing too fancy. He had a feeling that Megan wouldn’t appreciate anything too upscale, not that he liked that much himself. He wasn’t a fan of getting baby-sized portions for insane prices.

  “This place is great. I love the lighting and the cozy feel,” she exclaimed when they walked in. It brought a huge smile to his face.

  “Wait until you taste the food,” he told her.

  They ate and talked a little, and Declan groaned when Megan moaned after tasting her pasta.

  “This is delicious,” she said. Ah! If she kept making those noises, Declan was going to lose it. He was a professional, sure, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t a guy too.

  “So, you approve of the evening so far?”

  She sat up straighter and lowered the pitch in her voice. “This is Megan Verona, and I approve this evening.” Oh man, she was a dork, and he loved it. He threw his head back and laughed.

  “I’ll take that as a yes.”

  “You know, it’s not like I don’t go out. I have family gatherings and work related events. I even get together with some friends, er, acquaintances every so often, but this has been different…better,” she added after a pause. “I don’t get to really get dressed up and just go out and have fun. And I seem to be doing a lot of that lately. Thanks to you. You’ve just been…what’s the right word? I don’t even have a good word to describe how wonderful you’ve been. You’ve really helped me and have been a good friend.”

  “I’d be lying if I said it’s all been for the sake of helping you. I’ve been having fun too. I’m glad things didn’t work out with Chuck. I’m glad you stepped into my office.”

  “Yeah, me too,” she responded and lowered her eyelashes. If Declan didn’t know better, he’d think she was attempting to flirt with him. But he knew it was just her shy demeanor. Although, when she needed to, she broke out of that cage quite easily.

  The conversation turned to duller subjects after that until they were pulling up to her place.

  “Why don’t we discuss what happened to me?” she blurted out.

  “What do you mean?”

  “We talk about my life, and we talk through some of my issues. We go out and have fun, but we don’t talk about…about, when I was…” she trailed off.

  She had taken Declan off guard. He was silent for a good minute or two before he finally spoke. He didn’t even know what possessed him to give her a choice. “Do you want the politically correct answer I can give you as a professional? Or do you want my reasons?”

  He should have just given her the politically correct response. That was his job. They could have talked about it, or they didn’t have to. They could talk about it later. But he was trying to get her not to associate life with that event, technically. So, yeah, talking through it would help her, in general, but not specifically for breaking her out of her self-imposed jail. That was the professional answer. His truth was different.

  “I want the real answer,” Megan added softly, lowering her head as if in fear of what she might hear.

  He sighed before he spoke. “Because I don’t think I could handle hearing that something so traumatic and violent and awful happened to you. Because I want you to know only happy times when you are with me and not remember or associate anything sad around me. Because you light up a room when you smile, and you don’t even know it. I can’t stomach the thought of seeing you cower in fear. I care about you, Meg. Not just as a patient, but on a deeper level. And that is probably affecting my judgment, and I should probably tell you to find a new therapist because I should be able to hear what happened to you without wanting to kill someone, but I feel like I really am helping you. I don’t want to stop all that progress we’ve made. But, we’ll talk about it. When you are ready to share, I’ll listen. I’m not going to bring it up, but I’ll be your shoulder when and if you want me to hear the details.”

  She didn’t respond. She just stared at him, disbelief and awe written across her face. They looked at each other, not moving, barely blinking as his words sunk in. He didn’t really admit too much about his feelings, just that he felt more for her than with other patients, but that was obvious since they were starting to become friends. But he hated admitting even that out loud. It was wrong, even if it felt right.

  “Thank you for caring about me so much. You’re the first one besides my family who has made me feel like I mattered,” she whispered, her words breaking at moments with the strain of her emotions. Before he could respond—not that he had words at that moment anyway—she leaned over, kissed him lightly on the cheek, and bounded out of the car to her house. He wasn’t sure what just happened or why he allowed himself such a moment, but it felt like a step. In which direction, he didn’t know, but a step it was.

  Chapter 13

  Declan allowed himself to push Megan and all thoughts of her to the back of his mind the next week since they hadn’t made any plans, and he would only see her at their next appointment. Okay, that was a joke. She was at the forefront of his mind, but he refused to acknowledge it. When you really think about it, all he had admitted was that he cared about her as more than just a patient, which was completely true, and he’d pointed that out several times already. So what made that conversation different? Nothing really. Then why in the world was I stressing about it?

  When Megan walked into his office the following week, she smiled, and they greeted each other as usual. Declan breathed a sigh of relief that he hadn’t messed anything up.

  “So, we are still with calling me Declan, hmm?” he teased.

  “We are in the office, after all,” she retorted.

  “Are you implying we can never be here for you to feel comfortable?” he half joked, waiting to see her reaction.

  “No…yes…no, I’m comfortable with you anywhere, Dec.” She stressed his nickname. “I really am. Here, outside, doesn’t matter. I feel like I can talk to you. I feel like you understand me and my issues. And you truly are helping me break free.”

  “Good, that’s good. But would you rather go outside? It’s pretty nice out, but I have to be back before my next appointment. We could go grab a coffee, but I’m afraid this time, I can’t be out all day.” He frowned, surprising himself with how sad that thought truly made him.

  “No, that’s fine. We can sit here and talk.”

  “Who are you close with?” Declan blurted out. He wasn’t sure where that question came from, but deep down, he wanted to know if there was anyone in her life she trusted.

  “What?” she asked and drew her eyebrows together.

  “Sorry, that was out of left field. It’s just you told me that you are comfortable with me. I wanted to know if you had anyone else you can talk freely with.”

  “Uh oh, you’re not going to turn this into an assignment, are you?” She laughed.

  “No, no,” he chuckled. “I genuinely want to know.”

  “Well, um, let’s see.” She tapped her fingers on the arm of the sofa she was sitting on. “No,” she answered softly.

  “Why not?”

  “Well, after the…” She trailed off, not being able to mention the rape herself. “I was pretty messed up, physically and mentally. I had some good friends who tried to stick by me, but it’s hard having one-sided conversations, I guess. So slowly, we drifted apart. I’m close with my family, but sometimes they are too much. I know they want what’s best for me and just for me to be happy, but they are overwhelming and too protective. And yet, at other times, they push me to go out and have fun even when I don’t want to. I’m not saying that’s a bad thing, but it’s just…a lot to take in. Almost like they push when I need them to pull back, and they pull back when I need someone to nudge me in the right direction. And, well, everyone I’ve become friends with afterwards, it’s not like I can say, ‘oh, I get nervous around the opposite sex and I don’t feel comfortable enough to tell you why just yet, so please go ahead and disregard my awkwardness,’ which is why I haven’t made any friends I trust explicitly. I trust you because, well, you are a professional. Let’s face it. If I met you on the street, I wouldn’t have even looked at you. But I know you won’t judge me, and that makes it easy to open up to you. Besides, you knew my issues before I even walked in.”

  “And the guys I introduced you to? My friends? You were comfortable with them right off the bat.”

  “Hmm, I guess I was. But that’s because you told me I could trust them and I already trusted you.”

  “What about your assistant? Are you getting closer to her?”

  “Yeah, actually, I am.”

  “So, if she invited you to hang out with any more of her friends, would you feel comfortable doing that?”

  “Huh, yeah, actually, I think I would.”

  “So, you just don’t like strangers, really. That’s not abnormal or even a bad thing. There are plenty of people who are just like that and haven’t had any type of traumatic experience.”

  “You are trying to make me feel better.”

  “Just making you see some things about yourself in a different light.”

  “Well, I like this glass half full thing,” she smiled.

  “Speaking of my friends,” he chimed in, “they want you to join us again tomorrow night. I believe Steve’s exact words were, ‘Dude, if you don’t want us to chop off your dick, you better bring hottie Megan with you again.’”

  “Well, we wouldn’t want you to get in trouble,” she chuckled.

  “Well, you’ve met them. They can be pretty crude. Honestly, I want you to join us. But, if you don’t want to, you don’t have to worry about my manhood. I’ll handle them.”

  “I want to.”

  “Good.”

  They talked for a little longer about nothing in particular before his next appointment arrived. Declan felt a little wrong for not making the most of her visit, getting deeper into her problems, but with her, things were different. She wasn’t just a patient. She was his friend, and he liked chatting with her. Besides, that was good for her too.

  *****

  The following day, Megan met Declan at his office and they drove over to the usual bar together. The guys all got up and hugged her. When James first wrapped his arms around her, the stunned expression on Megan’s face almost made him laugh until he realized that Megan might be uncomfortable. He was about to reach out and pull James off; he’d play it off like he was jealous if he had to as long as she felt all right. But, just as he took a step, he saw Megan’s arms tentatively reach around James and hug him back. Well, hot damn. She was making progress, much quicker than he had even hoped. Something tugged at him, two emotions warring against each other – pride and sadness. He didn’t want her to be miserable, but he wanted her to need him. He told himself quickly that he was a horrible person for even thinking that and by the time he was done mentally scolding himself, all the guys had gotten hugs from Megan. She even slipped in before him, sandwiching herself between Marshall and Declan.

  Declan found her hand on her own thigh and covered it with his own, giving her a quick squeeze before releasing it. She smiled at him in appreciation, knowing he was trying to give her reassurance. He would have liked to keep holding onto her hand, but that wasn’t right.

  The rest of the evening went by much the same as the last. They joked, they laughed, but this time, Megan was the one asking the questions. The guys were doing a great job of giving her details about Declan, mostly embarrassing details.

  “You guys must have had slow days too, right?” Megan asked.

  “Yeah, there were days where we had a breather. Well, as much of a breather as you can have over there,” James replied.

  “So what did you do when you had free time?” she asked, her innocent gaze made her seem so much younger than she was at that moment.

  “We told jokes and just hung out mostly. But, damn did we get some good pranks in. Remember that time with the spider and Briggs?” Marshall laughed.

  “Oh, man, that was hilarious.” Steve laughed.

  It was a good memory from the Army, especially a good one of Briggs. It always brought both a smile to his face and sadness into his heart when he thought of good times with Briggs.

  “Megan, our boy Dec here, he pulled some crazy stuff off. This was nothing, but it was sure funny as shit.”

  Steve started telling Megan the story as Declan reminisced about the prank.

  “Shh,” Declan told Todd, who was giggling like a pansy ass little twelve-year-old girl.

  “Briggs is going to flip the fuck out.”

  Briggs was Declan’s best friend here in the Army, and he trusted him with his life. The guy was solid and strong and loyal and noble and all that other shit that was important in a friend. But Briggs had one downfall. Spiders. Fucking spiders. And they were all over the place here. How he survived on a daily basis, no one knew. He had taken some special courses or some therapy or something to be able to deal with the little ones that you just couldn’t avoid. But when he came across the big ones, he ran and screamed like a little girl. The guys got a kick out of it when it happened, but that was about it, until now.

  The sad part was that Declan had actually gotten help from Briggs’ wife to pull this off. She told him he was mean, but that didn’t stop her from sending him a dozen fake tarantula looking spiders. They were just rubber kiddie toys, but they would do the trick.

  “Alright, I’ve got the camera running, go ahead,” Steve informed Declan.

  Todd and Declan had spread those spiders all around Briggs while he slept. As Todd stepped away to join the others by Steve and the camera, Declan shook Briggs lightly. But, for an Army guy, no shaking is light shaking. Briggs shot up like he was on fire. And if that wasn’t funny in and of itself, the high pitched squeal he made when he realized he was covered in spiders was enough to get the guys rolling on the floor.

  “You motherfuckers!” Briggs yelled as he started chasing Declan after realizing the spiders were fake. It only took him two minutes of screeching and jumping around like he had ants in his pants. And it was all caught on camera, well, mostly. Steve had a hard time staying upright, doubling over a few times when the laughter became too much.

  In the end, Briggs tackled Declan and punched him, twice, square in the jaw. But it was worth it. And the next day, things were back to normal. That was how it always was with them. They butted heads, they laughed, they fought, they made fun of each other—but in the end, they were brothers. Declan hoped and wished and prayed he’d never have to live without one of them. Sometimes, wishes come true, but other times, they don’t.

  “Oh my God! You were so mean! And his wife was in on it?” Megan laughed.

  “We sent her the video and made her watch it while we video chatted with her so we could see her reaction. It was priceless how she literally doubled over,” Steve responded.

  “‘My supportive wife, guys,’ Briggs had said, remember? And then he finally laughed too.”

  “Good times,” Marshall added, a touch of sadness in his voice. No matter how good those memories were, there were always bad ones right behind.

 

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