everything we’ve been through?”
“I’m just not ready to let you go yet,” Grey said, flipping the coin into his palm before sliding it back in his pocket so that he could focus on his schedule, looking for a spot to fit the woman that intrigued him in.
“Is that why you doubled my volunteer hours?”
“And why I’ve added therapy to your community service requirements,” he pointed out.
“Can you really do that?”
“Looks like I can,” Grey said absently.
“Then I guess the question is, should you do that considering what happened in Boston?” Nikki said, making everything in him go still as he glanced up at the woman that was full of surprises.
“And what do you know about Boston?” Grey asked, considering her.
“Everything. I’m very good at my job,” Nikki said, pushing the paper back to him.
Without taking his gaze off her, he scratched out part of his notes and doubled his previous suggestion before handing it back with a murmured, “So am I.”
Chapter 20
Maybe she should get the hell out of here and spend the next ten months drinking on a beach, Sloane thought, biting back a sigh when Chase slammed the front door shut.
She should go inside and tell Chase that she quit, wish him luck, and go work on her tan, but…
God, she really was a fucking pushover, Sloane realized, shaking her head in disgust and wondering what was wrong with her when she found herself heading inside to find out what was going on with the stubborn bastard that she owed for what he did for her yesterday. He’d held her as she’d lost it and once she did…
She hadn’t been able to stop. She’d cried for Joshua and for every patient that she’d lost over the years, hating herself for not being able to do more for them. Through it all, Chase held her, telling her that everything would be okay.
For that alone, she couldn’t turn her back on him.
“Chase?” Sloane said as she walked in the house, glancing at his bedroom and the living room as she made her way to the kitchen.
It had been a long time since someone held her and…
God, she couldn’t believe that she’d lost it like that, Sloane thought as she walked into the kitchen and felt her heart break when she saw Chase sitting at the table with his head in his hands, looking absolutely lost.
For a moment, she wondered if his first therapy session had been too much for him, but then she remembered the way that he’d looked at that woman staring at him andī
“Fuck!” Chase shouted as he grabbed hold of the table and tossed it on its side.
Before he could grab the chair next to him and send it flying across the room, Sloane was there, straddling his lap and cupping his face, forcing him to look at her. “What’s going on?” she asked, gently caressing his face as he grabbed her hips to shove her off his lap, but she wasn’t going anywhere.
“Get off!” Chase snapped, moving to shove her off his lap, but she simply moved closer, making it harder for him to pull her off.
“Not happening,” she said, shaking her head as she wedged her legs onto the chair next to his. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
He closed his eyes and bit out, “Get off, Sloane.”
“No,” she simply said, because she wasn’t going anywhere, not with him like this.
“Goddamn it, Sloane! Get off!” Chase snapped as he moved his hands to her waist to pull her off only to fist his hands in her shirt and pull her closer so that he could rest his forehead against hers. “Why won’t you leave me alone?”
“Apparently, I have a soft spot for assholes,” she said, making him chuckle weakly as he released his hold on her shirt so that he could wrap his arms around her.
For several minutes, he didn’t say anything. He simply held her as he slowly calmed down. When she felt his muscles relax and his breathing slowed down, she felt herself relax as well.
“God, I hate this fucking house,” Chase said, sighing heavily as he pulled back so that he could press a kiss against her forehead.
“It’s not really you, is it?” Sloane said, telling herself that she should get off him now that he didn’t look like he was going to tear the house apart only to find herself moving closer so that she could lay her head against his shoulder.
“No, it’s not,” he murmured in agreement because nothing about this house