Surviving Eden (Surviving Series Book 1)

by Virginia Wine

  Still, I’m not exactly willing to disclose her age at this point.

  “I can’t just walk away, Alex.”

  “Refer her to someone else. Stop treating her.”

  As if it’s that easy. As if that’s an option.

  “I can’t.”

  I won’t.

  “I promised her uncle I would help. Mathew would want me to protect her.”

  “Protect her from who? You?”

  “If necessary.”

  Who was I kidding? There’s no turning back now.

  “I just hope you’re being careful. There’s a lot at stake here, Theo.”

  “Nothing’s happened yet, and for all I know, this could all be completely one-sided.”

  Knowing that every moment with her has been filled with a mutual attraction, in no way do I believe it’s all on my end. The one thing I’m certain about is that the truth will come out eventually.

  “Okay, enough of the heavy shit. What’s your next adventure, Alex?”

  Relief washes over us as we move on to something else. It’s almost as though our previous conversation never happened. I lift my arm, indicating two more beers, and they’re delivered with a smile solely meant for Alex. He is handsome and completely available, after all, I remind myself.

  “Just remember to consider the consequences before you act.” He raises his hands defensively, and I can only nod my head in mute agreement.

  Then he changes the subject. “I need a favor.”

  “The last time you asked for a favor, we woke up in Vegas.” I smile at the memory.

  “No, nothing like that. I was actually thinking of that sharp mind of yours.”

  “Go on.”

  “That’s where you come in.” Steepling his hands, he looks like the consummate lawyer pleading his case, his eyes never wavering from mine.

  “I’m looking for a volunteer speaker.” He pauses, lifting his beer for a long pull, then points the tip of the bottle my way. “Someone who’s involved with children’s rights and finding solutions.”

  “And that’s me?” I raise one brow inquisitively.

  “Being humble is not your strong suit, Theo. Of course, that’s you! We’re focusing on the homeless, adoption, and unwanted children. I know you can make a big impact, and hell, it doesn’t hurt that you seem to be easy on the eyes, although personally, I don’t get it.”

  He chugs his beer after he finishes speaking, completely oblivious to the lingering waitress hoping to make eye contact. This is uncharacteristic for Alex.

  “Of course.” I smile at his pitch. “The accolades are a little over the top, my friend, but accurate all the same.”

  “I could keep them coming, slick.” He smiles.

  “You’re overselling me, Alex. I’m in.”

  “Let me work on the details. I promise it will be great. I knew I could count on you.” He checks his phone. When I hear his obscene ringtone moaning and groaning, I lift a brow in question.

  “Fuck sounds” he says, and suddenly he’s back. My absent best friend has reappeared, more inappropriate than ever.

  “I thought you were gone for good. I should have known.”

  “You’re just now noticing that about me?” He shakes his head with a smile on his lips. “Well, now that business is out of the way.” He looks around, assessing the room for potential. “The bar is filling up quite nicely, Theo. Join me? I tend to do better when we tag-team. Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid?”

  “You always pick the bad guys. And when have you ever had difficulties attracting the opposite sex? You don’t need my assistance. You’re on your own, Sundance.” I push away from the table and stand.

  “Hell, Theo, but I actually saw myself as Butch.” He grins over his shoulder at me as he goes on the hunt.

  “Goodnight. Great to have you back, Alex.” Tempting as it may be to outrival him in a school yard kind of way, he can bring out a side of me most don’t see…playful.

  ***

  Several beers and my red speed demon may not be the perfect combination, but when I’m behind the wheel of the Typhoon, it’s like a drug I can’t deny myself. I’m gunning ahead as if I’m being chased at full speed. The sensation of soaring into the night allows me complete freedom. The leather steering wheel beneath my hands is a sexually arousing experience. Soft, tight, and pliable, it’s easy to control.

  Then, subliminally, an unwanted face appears in my mind.. Her eyes are framed by long lashes. The violet rays penetrate the hardened exterior I’ve so brilliantly constructed. I push the image away once I make it home. Stripping as I walk to the bathroom for a cold shower, I’m hoping to tame my current fixation.

  No such luck.

  ***

  Looking forward to seeing her should be a sin on so many levels, yet here I am, thirty minutes before Miss Knight. She’ll be surprised. I answer my emails and ignore the ones that don’t require immediate attention. I feel as if I’ve cleared my head, and God knows I’m going to need it later.

  “Good morning…sir?” Miss Knight stands in the open doorway with her purse, electronic gadgets, lunch, and a tote bag filled with God knows what.

  “Good morning, Miss Knight.”

  She nods and turns for her desk.

  A new email arrives about Alex’s project, and I take time to review the details. I might as well prepare something to say if I’m going to be a speaker. I pull out a few books and get to work. I’m surprised when my first patient arrives, and then I’m swept away in her battle with depression. The meds aren’t right yet, and her complaints are anticipated as I explain that sometimes it takes time to find the right balance. Luckily, she’s not a case I would consider high risk. I send her home with a new script, an appointment in two weeks, and an offer to call me anytime.

  Then I gather my thoughts and get back to my speech. I have a good start on the rough draft. I’ll need to know how much time is expected of me.

  ***

  I inadvertently count the times I’ve looked at my watch today, waiting impatiently for two o’clock to arrive. In what universe is this behavior appropriate? None, unless I’ve become a predator, and that thought sickens me further. Guilt. This is what guilt feels like.

  “Dr. Grant, Miss Barnett is here to see you,” Miss Knight says, unknowingly causing a flittering sensation in my stomach.

  I push it down and open the door. “Eden, come in, please.”

  “Dr. Grant.” Her casual demeanor gives nothing away. Her hair is windblown, only adding to her natural appeal.

  “Have a seat.” My arm lifts in the direction of where she sat last time. “How have you been the last few days?”

  I notice a new edge in her demeanor. Maybe it’s a coping mechanism.

  She shrugs, and that’s my clue to dig deeper, so I sit opposite her, braving the closeness and forcing myself to be professionally focused.

  “A full spectrum of feelings is quite normal, Eden. Are you sad, mad, or hopeless?” I could go on. I find it helps to identify feelings when you name them. It makes it easier for the patient to recognize them.

  “I’ve kinda been stuck in a sad place. You remember my boyfriend, Denver? It’s officially over.”

  Of course I remember Denver. I‘m riddled with guilt because of the joy these words bring me. The boyfriend is now out of the picture.

  She crosses her legs, wearing a short skirt today. I tell myself to get a grip. It’s a fucking innocent skirt, but her long, tan legs are smooth as she slightly bounces her foot up and down, her sandal dangling from her toes.

  Jesus, get in the fucking game.

  I can’t allow myself to become derailed again. I hate my own guts right now.

  “Eden.” I smile an all-knowing smile, as if I say this every day. “Men are creatures of habit; they thrive on routines. If their lives are well organized and predictable, they are content. Men don’t like disruption. They don’t want relationships filled with conflicts or emotions. So it doesn’t surprise me that Denver i
s not equipped to handle your needs in the manner you require.”

  I pretend to jot down a few notes, finding it hard to be objective.

  “I just want to be myself. Cry if I need to, be held, be loved, and be comforted without judgment.” Her head tilts as if asking a question, then she awaits my answer.

  I notice the delicate curve of her neck and the thin gold necklace surrounding it. Unable to help myself, I struggle to pull back my feelings.

  “You want to know why so many women get their hearts broken by men? Because of their addiction to hearing these three words: I love you.”

  “I want those words, too, but I also want to follow my heart, and live my dreams. Denver just doesn’t seem to fit in my future.”

  Why I feel suddenly lighter is undeniably fucked up. This is definitely beyond professional concern. I should be worried, seriously concerned, but when our eyes meet, she’s the picture of perfection. I’ve mastered the ability to read people—their body language and expressions. I can even tell if someone’s lying. And I realize that Eden needs me to be her rock—not rock her world.

  “Eden, if a man doesn’t have many good qualities that a woman can praise and admire, what is she doing with him?” It’s not really a question; it’s more a statement designed to make her think and weed out the men that she knows don’t deserve her.

  “You’re right. I do need someone who offers unconditional love and respect. Someone who accepts me for who I am, not for who I could be, or should be. Maybe I’ve been looking in the wrong place, finding a boy, when in reality, what I really need is a man.”

  Her eyes are filled with some sort of promise, but I’m unsure about what she means by that. I’m certain, however, about what I want it to mean, and that scares the hell out of me.

  I cross my legs, hiding my growing erection, the words God, I love your body floating through my filthy mind. My eyes travel down her form. Her movements are liquid sex. From her high-heeled sandals to her bare legs to that short skirt, she is my undoing. My eyes glance over her tight sweater, hugging her curves in all the right places. It’s as if seduction has been her intention all along. Either way, it’s achieved its aim.

  “Knowing the important differences between men and woman in general is an advantage in any relationship. Men are often stereotyped as not having feelings, but we do. We just deal with them differently.”

  I’m proud that I’ve been able to force myself back into the moment and construct an intelligent sentence.

  “Then that’s what I’ll do. I’ll open the door to new possibilities.” When she smiles and sighs with contentment, my chest tightens. It’s as if she’s reached in and squeezed it with her bare hands.

  This new attitude of hers has danger written all over it because I can only be certain of one thing. I want to be the new possibility.

  “Eden, anything else before we close the session?” This comes out of nowhere, since we still have fifteen minutes left, but I’ve had my limit.

  “We can continue next time.” She stands, and I’m forced to do the same as I walk her out. Her hand lands on my arm as she leaves, and as I look down to see the flames, the electricity is as foreign to her as it is to me. Then she gently lifts her hand with great reluctance. “I haven’t been sleeping lately.”

  “Well,” I blunder. “That seems to be going around.” My voice is unrecognizable.

  She makes the next appointment as I lean on the door frame, fixing a tie that was already perfect. I put both hands in my pockets, attempting to stop this nonsense once and for all. Then I watch her walk out, knowing I won’t be strong enough to resist her final act.

  “Cute little thing, isn’t she?” Miss Knight says, looking up at me.

  “Didn’t notice.”

  Lie.

  “Uh-uh.”

  ***

  I endure another night of haunting images. Any attempt to redirect my thoughts slips back instantly to how perfect it would feel to have her here, beneath me. I imagine her here, that skirt hiked up to her waist, and my mouth between her thighs.

  The cold showers are nearly useless. The thoughts unravel me, igniting my hunger, if only in my imagination. When I can no longer deny what I’m feeling, I give into the fantasy, if only momentarily.

  I slide my boxer briefs down and lay on the bed, alone. Her violet eyes are hidden by her hair, which hovers over me. My flesh driving deep into hers. But in reality, it’s my hand pumping like a madman, stroking fiercely as I imagine the rhythm I control. I envision her coming around me, and my orgasm hits me like a freight train.

  When I come back down to earth, I instantly analyze the entire scene that just played out. Judgment is the main player, joined by a roller coaster of other emotions. True physical relief will come at a cost, but I know it’s only a matter of time before I possess her.

  Chapter Five

  Eden

  “It was the things he said. He said he could help me, and I trust him, Gage.”

  How can I explain that when I’m in his presence, I finally feel stable and safe?

  “Not to mention he’s incredibly easy on the eyes,” Gage says, looking at me in concern.

  “Okay, I’ll admit he’s attractive.”

  More than attractive, wearing that black two-piece suit that fits him so spectacularly. His muscular body is hidden beneath his professional exterior, but I still know it’s there. I nearly melted the first time saw him, my heart racing as I studied his handsome face and his body, right down to his Armani wing tips.

  “Eden, have you considered the fact that you may have to resist any personal connection you have with him? He’s your doctor, after all.”

  “Of course I have. I know he’s off-limits. I know that. I’m fine, don’t worry about me.”

  But I can’t deny the intense feelings I have for him, hovering just below the surface, with each look, blood is humming through my veins.

  “Eden, it’s my job to protect you, and I know you better than anyone. Why is it so difficult to admit the truth?”

  Am I ready to admit the truth? Maybe I’m overreacting. Aside from the occasional heated glance, is the chemistry I sense between us one-sided?

  “Okay, okay, he isn’t entirely unpleasant.” I feel the heat of Gage’s eyes on me as he snorts.

  “You can’t be serious.”

  I lean over to punch him in the arm for being such a smart-ass.

  “Ow,” he says, rubbing his arm. “God, Eden, I’m not here to judge. Just be honest with me. I mean, after Denver, I don’t want to see you get hurt again.”

  I don’t want to expose my innermost thoughts even to myself, let alone my best friend. But his words touch me. I want to find the courage to share what I’ve been struggling with, right or wrong.

  “I’m finding him hard to resist,” I admit, recalling his deep blue eyes holding on to mine.

  “I’m listening.”

  “There’s an intense connection between us that has shaken me to my very core.” As I remember everything about him, I realize it’s already burned in my memory.

  “He’s definitely gotten under my skin.”

  And in every pore of my being.

  “There’s no easy answer, Eden. This…this attraction crosses an ethical line. One he may not be willing to cross.” Gage rests his palm on my shoulder, gently rubbing it. “Are you prepared for that?”

  Am I?

  “Is anyone prepared for rejection?”

  “Little dove, you’re hoping for the impossible. Surely you can see that? Fast forward. There’s only one way this will end—in disaster.”

  His words move me in a way I didn’t know was possible. He speaks the truth, and that’s why it hurts so much to hear. But inside, I know I have to get closer to him, no matter the cost.

  “He’s worth the risk.”

  I’m really hoping fate will prove Gage wrong.

  “Touché’ grasshopper, but after the storm clears and Mr. Perfect is out of the picture, I’ll be the one standi
ng here, picking up the pieces.”

  I bury my face in his chest, and his arms surround me. “I know, Gage.”

  I hold on as if he is the only one I can ever count on.

  Chapter Six

  Theo

  I make it to the office, but I’m late. The first point of business is Levi’s aunt, CeCe. Short for… I’m not sure. I would prefer to use her given name, but that information isn’t in the file. As the phone rings for the fifth time, I notice my pen tapping my desk in frustration, then quickly get my head back in the game when she finally answers.

  “Good morning. This is Dr. Theodore Grant, Levi’s psychiatrist. I was hoping this would be a good time to discuss his progress.”

  “Hi Dr. Grant. Sure, Levi told me you would be calling.”

  “First, let me offer my condolences on your loss. The situation is a tragedy. Please know I will do all that I can to help Levi.”

  “I know, Dr. Grant, but Levi says he wasn’t a witness, and maybe he wasn’t. I don’t want to traumatize the boy any more than he has been already.”

  I can hear the intake of a cigarette and her blowing out the smoke in between her words. A behavior I file under addiction.

  “I couldn’t agree more.” I take a moment to gather my thoughts.

  “May I ask you what your long-term plans are in respect to the care of Levi? If his father goes to jail, you will be his sole guardian. If his father is let go, he may be forced to live with him, which I would contest, but only if I have a solid commitment to a stable loving environment.”

  “Yeah, I thought this was a temporary thing. What are his choices?”

  I can’t believe what I’m hearing. Her only sister was violently killed, her only nephew is left homeless, and she’s looking for other options? I wish I had a moment to calm down before I answer, but I fucking don’t.

  “May I call you CeCe?”

  “Sure, everyone does.” The slight twang grinds on my last nerve.