And just like that, I was hard again. My shower fantasy and jerk-off session had done little to squelch my desire. I turned the water all the way cold and stood under the spray, allowing it to cool me down. I couldn’t miss my appointment with my shrink. Not today.

I slumped onto the god-awful sofa at the shrink’s joint and stuck my feet up on the coffee table.

“How have you been?” Dr. Wells asked.

“I’m so messed up, even I can’t believe it.”

“Why do you say that?”

I looked down at my running shoes propped up on the mahogany table, their bright blue a stark contrast to the rich brown. “See these shoes?”

“Yes,” she said, frowning a little in confusion.

“See how bright and amazing the blue is, vibrant and full of life?”

Doc nodded.

“Now take a look at the table. It’s dark and morose. There’s no life in that ugly brown. It looks like shit, feels like crap, and deserves nothing more. That’s me. And I’m falling for a girl who’s like my shoes. Which is so messed up, Doc.”

I rubbed my thumb along the callous on my palm, closing my eyes and willing myself not to fall apart.

“We’re back to the same place, Jake. You feeling as if you don’t deserve anything good in your life.”

“I don’t, but I’m going to take it this time because I can’t resist this woman. That’s why I’m even more of a mess.” I sighed.

Dr. Wells took a deep breath. “Jake, I think it’s time we invite your brother to a session. I’m afraid you’re not going to ever see yourself as the innocent little boy you were, and I feel as if a little discussion between the three of us would help.”

“Yeah, if that ass agreed to go after Shirley and force her to move far away . . . like Alaska where she would freeze to death.”

My shrink leaned forward in her favorite chair, the straight-backed pink upholstered one that fit her so well. “I don’t believe for a second that you wish ill on anyone, so don’t say that again. Let’s deal with what we can control, like how you think and your growing interest in this woman.”

“Alyson. Aly.” I felt a smile break out on my face, a genuine full-on wide grin.

As though I was looking in the mirror, Dr. Wells broke out in a matching one.

“She’s perfect,” I told the doc. “So beautiful, I want to devour her. Physically, emotionally, all of her, every last inch. She needs to be handled gently, but I’m all rough and dominant with her. I tried to get her to move, and that didn’t go so well, so I bought her a guard dog. I’m fucking everything up, and she just kind of rolls with it. I want to stay away, not be excited when I think about her, but I can’t.”

“Uh-huh,” she murmured as she scribbled notes.

“Here’s the thing. She knows about jail and the other time, but she doesn’t know this.” I waved my hand in front of me, illustrating the enormity of the reason why I was sitting in this room.

“Tell her, Jake. If she’s as wonderful as you say, she’ll care for you no matter what.”

I shook my head; Dr. Wells was wrong. Aly would run if she knew what I did.

And that was when the craziest plan yet entered my head. I decided to tell Aly the truth so she would run far way from me. Before it was too late.

But first, I just wanted one little taste of her.

Aly

On Wednesday, I’d just come in from letting Maverick pee and was changing into lounge pants and a tank when there was a heavy knock on the door.

“Who’s there?” I called through the shabby wood. No one ever popped over to see me, and I feared the worst. I wasn’t even sure what that was or meant, but all these creepy movie scenes where a stranger shows up at the door and slits some lonely woman’s throat came to mind.

“Jake.”

Now in a panic of a completely different kind, I looked down at my tank, at my braless nipples poking through the sheer fabric, and yelled, “One sec!”

I ran back into my room and pulled off the tank, shoved my boobs in a black lace bra, and threw on a navy long-sleeved T-shirt. Stepping out of the gauzy fat-girl pants, I wiggled them off my ankles and stuffed my legs into a pair of skinny jeans.

By the time I opened `the door, I was breathless and certain my mascara was running from all the sweating.

“Hey, what’s up?” I asked casually, as if Jake stopped by all the time. After all, we owned a pet together.

Jake stood in the doorway, his arm propped on the doorjamb. “I was in the neighborhood. I work right by here, and I missed Mav-man.” He stepped inside and bent down to scoop up the chocolate-brown ball of fur yipping at his feet, then kicked the door closed with his boot.

I was finally able to take in the sight in front of me. There was Jake, obviously freshly showered with his hair still wet and smelling of eucalyptus, wearing a pair of faded jeans and a T-shirt that read TEAM FIZZLE over his right pec with a muscle man curling two bowling balls.

“You like it?” he asked with a wink, noticing me eyeing his shirt.

“It’s interesting. Cute, I guess.”

“Good! Because I got one for you.” He whipped a T-shirt from his back pocket, a women’s version in lime green.

“Oh, thanks. It’s like Christmas come early with you. First a puppy, now a T-shirt.”

“I’m full of surprises, isn’t that right, Mav-man?” He rubbed his knuckles over the dog’s forehead, and the puppy’s tail went ballistic.

Hey, if I were a dog, my tail would be wagging too.

“The gym plays in this cosmic bowling league. It was all part of Camper’s plan . . . oh shit, I didn’t mean to bring her up. Anyway, she was in charge of marketing up until recently, and she had this big idea to boost company morale. In reality, it was probably another way to get her claws in me another two nights a month.”

“And this has to do with you being in the neighborhood how?”

“Because you’re on the team now. Camper’s gone and we need an extra player, so you’re it!”

I shook my head, worrying my bottom lip with my teeth. “I don’t bowl. I’ve never even done it, Jake.” We didn’t have time for entertainment like that when I was growing up, and I was never invited to the bowling parties of the kids whose houses my mom cleaned.

“It’s easy,” he said, dismissing my concerns. “Come on, I’ll show you.”

He set Maverick down on the floor and tucked the shirt back into his pocket. Then he came behind me, wrapped his left arm around my waist and brought his right under mine, pulling it back. He simulated me swinging back a ball and then swung our right arms in the air, making a whooshing sound as we pretended to let the ball go.

“You’re in good hands,” he said softly. His breath lingered at the back of my neck, and I felt his lips lightly brush below my ear.

“I was literally in comfy clothes when you came to the door,” I said over my shoulder, “ready for a night in with my dog and the TV. I haven’t watched anything in weeks, and now you want me to go bowling?”

More murmuring tickled my neck. He was still standing behind me with his arms around me, his erection touching my lower back ever so gently. I bit my lip, trying not to push back into his hard-on.

“I’m taking you bowling,” he said firmly. “You can watch TV tomorrow.”

I swiveled in his arms and faced him, wanting to taste his lips all of a sudden. I’d never felt more alive. My senses were running on V8 engines like his Hummer, churning out hormones and desires I didn’t even know I had.

“Bowling?”

“Bowling.”

“Okay,” I said, giving in all too soon.

“Let’s go!” He ran his lips over Maverick’s fur, sending a surge of jealousy through me, and placed him in the crate. “Put this on,” he said as he tossed the T-shirt my way.

Without a second thought, I walked into my bedroom and swapped shirts, then threw my hair up into a ponytail.