“Rhian, your best friend, Rhian?” she asked, pouring herself some fresh orange juice. She settled with her glass at the table and I thought being near her as opposed to being near her brother was a good idea. I slipped into the chair across from her.
“He proposed, she freaked out, she dumped him.”
Ellie’s mouth dropped open in horror. “You’re kidding me. Poor guy.”
I grinned, thinking about his note. “They’re going to be okay.”
“They made up?” God, she looked so hopeful and she didn’t even know them.
“You’re a sweetheart,” I told her quietly and Ellie’s expression melted.
“You got them back together, didn’t you?” she announced with the utmost confidence in me.
Only Ellie would have that kind of assurance in someone like me. She was damnably determined I wasn’t as detached as I made out. That she happened to be right on this occasion was a little annoying and a lot misleading.
“He was pissed off at you,” Braden interjected before I could respond.
I glanced over at him, still leaning against the worktop, sipping his coffee as if he had all the time in the world. “He thought I talked her into it—breaking up with him.”
Braden didn’t seem surprised by this. In fact, he quirked an eyebrow and replied, “Why am I not surprised?”
Ellie clicked her tongue at him. “Braden, Joss wouldn’t do that.”
“I know she wouldn’t do that. But I don’t think she didn’t do that for the reasons you think she didn’t, Els.”
Crap. So he thought he knew me better than Ellie did. I grimaced inwardly. Maybe he did. Perceptive asshat. Unnerved, I looked away from him, sipping my own coffee and trying to ignore his gaze boring into me.
“Cryptic much?” Ellie grumbled before focusing back on me. “You got them back together though, right?”
I owe you.
The words made me smile into my mug. “Yeah. Yeah I did.”
“You did?” Braden sounded so astonished by this, it was insulting.
Okay, maybe the asshat just thought he knew me. “She’s my best friend. I helped out. I’m not some cold-hearted bitch you know.”
Braden flinched. “I never said that, babe.”
I shivered as the endearment rolled over me, hitting a nerve I didn’t even know I had. My words tumbled out caustically, “Don’t call me babe. Don’t ever call me babe.”
My sharp tone and sudden anger caused a thick tension to fall between the three of us and I suddenly couldn’t remember why I was so grateful to Braden yesterday when he helped me out after the panic attack. This is what you got when you let people in. They started to think they knew you when they didn’t know shit.
Ellie cleared her throat. “So James has gone back to London?”
“Yup.” I stood up and dumped the dregs of my coffee in the sink. “I’m going to hit the gym.”
“Jocelyn-” Braden started.
“Don’t you have a meeting?” I cut him off, about to stroll out of there, leaving the tension behind.
“Jocelyn…” he sounded concerned.
I caught myself with a deep inner sigh.
You’ve made your point, Joss. I didn’t need to continue to be a bitch about it. Sighing outwardly, I looked up at him and offered with snarky charitableness, “I have a travel mug in the top left cupboard if you want to take some coffee to go.”
Braden stared at me a moment, his eyes searching. He shook his head with a quizzical smile playing on his lips. “I’m good, thanks.”
I nodded, pretending indifference to the atmosphere we’d caused, and then I glanced back at Ellie. “You want to hit the gym with me?”
Ellie wrinkled her button nose. “Gym? Me?”
I eyed her skinny self. “You mean you’re naturally that gorgeous?”
She laughed, flushing a little. “I have good genes.”
“Yeah, well, I have to work-out to fit into mine.”
“Cute,” Braden murmured into his coffee, his eyes laughing at me.
I grinned at him, my second non-verbal apology for snapping at him. “Whatever. Guess I’m flying solo. Catch you guys later.”
“Thanks for the coffee, Jocelyn,” he called cheekily to me as I wandered down the hall.
I winced. “It’s Joss!” I yelled back grouchily, trying to ignore the sound of his laughter.
***
“So, now that we’ve got our introductions and all the basics over, do you want to tell me why you felt it was time to talk to someone?” Dr. Kathryn Pritchard asked me softly.
Why did all therapists speak in that soft, ‘soothing’ voice? It was supposed to be soothing, but it sounded just as condescending to me now as it had when I was fifteen. I glanced around