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Brother’s Best Friend

Page 33

by Kaylee, Katy


  “Emma!” Chloe ran with her arms up toward Emma. They hugged like they hadn’t seen each other for years, even though they’d seen each other the day before.

  “If only Steve greeted me like that,” Jess said about her husband.

  “Those types of greetings are why you have three kids.”

  “Oh yeah.”

  I kissed my baby girl goodbye and then headed from Hope up to Richmond to work. Forty-five minutes later I entered the Veterans Administration building heading to my office. I had several individual patients I met with but, also, I did a group for veterans. While all of them had PTSD, most were functioning pretty well in the world. They had jobs and families. Some had prior substance abuse problems but were now all clean.

  Outsiders might think they didn’t need counseling anymore, but they’d be wrong. These vets learned to manage the dreams, and the overwhelming fight or flight urge when a helicopter flew overhead or there was a loud noise. Most said it was exhausting to maintain normalcy, and so, they had a place where they could talk with others experiencing the same challenges.

  As I neared my office, Jacob Loeb, another therapist approached me. “Summer, do you have a minute?”

  “Yeah sure.”

  “I’ve got a new intake this morning, but my wife just called and my daughter has had some issue at school that I need to take care of. Georgia says you don’t have anything until ten this morning. Can you take this?”

  “Sure.” I took the file he handed me.

  “I can’t tell you anything about it as I haven’t read it.”

  “No problem. I’ll read it now.”

  “He’s in the waiting room.”

  Meaning there wasn’t time to read it. “Oh…well. I guess I’ll read it later.”

  “Great, I’ll have Georgia send him down. Thanks again, Summer.” Jacob ran back up the hall and I entered my office.

  My desk was against the wall, which gave more space for a small couch for my clients and a chair for me.

  I heard a motion at the door and turned to greet the new intake. “Hello, I’m—” My heart lodged in my throat.

  “Summer.” Rafe stood in the doorway looking even more handsome and lost than I remembered.

  2

  Rafe

  Summer was as beautiful and pure as I remembered. No, she was even more beautiful, and I couldn’t stop staring at her.

  “Rafe. Come in.” She walked from around her desk to approach me. I thought she’d hug me. I hoped she would. But instead, she extended her hand. It felt a bit like a slap in the face considering the last time I saw her, my cock was buried deep inside her tight sexy body.

  I swallowed and took her hand. It was small and warm, just like I remembered. “I didn’t know you were here. I thought you were working with kids.”

  She motioned for me to sit on the small couch, while she took a seat in a chair across from it. “After everything with Gavin, I decided I wanted to work with veterans. He’s much better now.”

  I nodded. I knew Gavin had gotten his shit together. I’d been emailing him and even saw him a few times since my discharge. But clearly, he’d kept my confidence and hadn’t mentioned my return to anyone, including Summer. He also hadn’t mentioned Summer’s job at the VA.

  “I didn’t know you were back.” Her tone had a slight edge to it. As if she was offended that I hadn’t contacted her. Again, considering that the last time I’d seen her we’d fucked like rabbits, I supposed it was rude that I hadn’t contacted her. I had thought about it. I’d wanted to. But she had a life now and I had nothing.

  “I’ve been discharged for about six months. Since then I’ve traveled mostly.” The truth was, I didn’t know what to do with myself. I couldn’t bring myself to go home. I didn’t know what sort of work I could do or what life to build. So I put all decisions off and traveled.

  As it turned out, Summer’s idea of renting my grandmother’s home was a good one, because I had a little nest egg saved from rental income.

  She nodded and shifted in her chair as if she was uncomfortable. It was strange to feel off balance around her. She’d always been the one person that seemed to put the world straight for me. But her discomfort made me uncomfortable.

  “I’m sorry that I haven’t had time to read your file. What’s brought you here today?”

  I frowned. We grew up together. Were friends. Lovers. And now I was just a client? I sighed. “Gavin suggested I come.”

  Her brows rose in surprise. “You’ve been in touch with Gavin?”

  “Yes. I’d been feeling a little…displaced…unfocused now that I’m out of the military and he seems to have it all figured out.”

  She smiled, and it was so sweet and lovely it made my heart hurt with longing. “I’m so proud of him.” Then as if she decided she said something wrong, she stopped smiling and gave me an intent look. “So, you’re looking for some direction?”

  “I guess. Mostly I’m here to appease Gavin. I don’t see how talking is going to set my life right.”

  She nodded and had an expression that suggested she’d heard that statement before. “Well, what do you think is stopping you from figuring out what to do next in your life?”

  The dreams. The grief. The feeling like I don’t belong in the country I spent nearly twelve years protecting. I shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  Her eyes narrowed, and again, I felt like she had heard all this before. That’s when it dawned on me that she was treating me like a patient and not an old friend. Anger boiled in my gut. I wasn’t like all those other patients. Sure they may have the dreams and feelings of displacement, but how many had slept with her? How many knew every inch of her creamy soft skin?

  “What’s going on?” she asked.

  “What do you mean?” I worked to keep my voice level.

  “Your expression changed. Are you angry or upset?”

  I shook my head. “Just biding my time until you say I can go and I can tell Gavin I tried it his way.”

  “Except you’d be lying.”

  A flash of white-hot heat spiked in my gut. “You don’t know me.” Because the hot energy was too much to contain sitting down, I stood and began to pace.

  “I know you haven’t really given this a go. I know you have some intense feelings going on that you’re not telling me about.”

  I whirled on her. “You want to know what I’m feeling?”

  She nodded, looking all prim and professional in her dark skirt and a crisp shirt that should have looked boring, but on her curves was too fucking sexy.

  I leaned over her, putting my hands on the arms of her chair. “I’m pissed that you can sit in this chair and act like that last time I saw you I hadn’t fucked you until you screamed my name.”

  She didn’t flinch, but she did look up at me with those golden eyes. “I know this is awkward, but you’re here to see a professional. I’m being professional. If you want to fuck someone, you’ll have to go somewhere else.”

  I laughed derisively as I pushed away and stalked to the other side of the room. “I knew this was a mistake.”

  “Why?” How did she do that? Speak with such indifference?

  Still, she was right. I was there for professional help. But I didn’t like her, a woman I’d loved, using her psychological bullshit on me. Pulling my anger together, I sat on the couch. “Because talking doesn’t change anything.”

  “There are people who disagree with you.”

  “Does it bring back the brothers I lost? My dog?” Shit, I didn’t want to talk about that.

  Her eyes softened. “No, but it can help you work through the grief of it. I’m sorry for your loss, Rafe.”

  The way she said my name sounded like the old Summer, not professional therapist Summer. Still. “Everyone is sorry, but they’re still gone.”

  She nodded. “I know you’ve talked to Gavin, but have you talked to others?”

  I shook my head.

  “Why don’t you give it a try? Give yourself a
month to talk to someone. We have a group that meets twice a week with men who’ll understand you and the challenges you’re going through.”

  “What do we talk about?” It seemed like a waste of time, but if I wasn’t needing a change, I wouldn’t be here.

  “Why don’t we start with why you’re angry at me for not fucking you right now, when you told me to move on and haven’t even bothered to tell me you’d come back home.”

  I was surprised by her statement and wondered if that was a real counseling question. Then again, she was right. I was an asshole. It’s why I didn’t tell her or anyone I was home. I didn’t want all that welcome home, thank you for serving our country bullshit.

  “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

  She nodded. “That doesn’t answer my question.”

  “I don’t remember you being so bossy.”

  She cocked her head to the side. “You’re upset because I’m not acting like Summer your friend.”

  The comment stung because I’d thought we’d been more than friends. “It’s taking some getting used to.”

  She stared at me for a moment. “All you had to do was ask Gavin how to reach me, and I would have been there, as your friend. But in this office, my job is to help veterans like you sort out their lives.”

  I sighed. “I don’t belong here anymore.”

  She studied me for a moment. “You mean in Hope?”

  “Anywhere. Except in the middle of a war. How fucked up is that?”

  “It is fucked up,” she agreed. “And not uncommon, which I don’t say to make you feel better. It’s just to let you know that it’s a common experience among vets who spend time in warzones.”

  She was right, it didn’t make me feel better. “So how do they overcome it?”

  “By talking about it.”

  That was a bunch of bullshit, but I was game if it meant being able to see Summer. “Sure. What do we talk about?”

  She sighed and put her notebook down. “The thing is, Rafe, you’re right that this is strange since I know you so intimately. Because of that, it would be unethical for me to be your counselor.”

  “What? You’re quitting on me?” Was it because I’d gotten mad?

  “Not quitting. There are excellent counselors here who can help you.”

  I was shaking my head before she finished. “I don’t want to talk to strangers. You know me.”

  “That’s the point.”

  “Who better to help me than someone who knows my history? Knows my demons. Counseling is fucked up if it says you can’t help me.”

  “You need a neutral party. I’m not neutral.”

  I’m not sure why, but I liked hearing that. Neutral meant no emotion. If she wasn’t neutral, she felt something. Even if it was anger, I’d take it. “It’s you or no one.”

  “Rafe.”

  I shrugged nonchalantly. “I see you or no one.”

  “It can only be professional.”

  “Sure. Of course.” And yet I’d already had a vision of bending her over her desk and fucking her from behind. I really was an asshole.

  She stood and went to her desk. I rose from the couch and stood across from her. As she looked through her calendar, I scanned her office trying to get a sense of her life. My gaze stopped on a picture of a little girl.

  I picked it up. “Who’s this?”

  For a moment she looked like deer with its eyes caught in the headlights. She took a deep breath. “That’s my daughter.”

  What the fuck? The statement was like a punch to the gut. Another man had loved her. They’d made a child together. I chastised myself because wasn’t that what I wanted for her? Hadn’t I told her that’s what she needed to do?

  “Who’s the lucky guy?”

  “It’s just me and Emma.”

  Emma. It was a pretty name. It made me think of my grandmother. Then I frowned. Where was this guy? Why were she and her kid alone? “Was he an asshole? Did he hurt you?” The idea of it sent a murderous rage coursing through my bloodstream. I didn’t sacrifice my heart just so some other asshole could break hers.

  She stood and took the picture from me, setting it back on her desk. “We have a group tomorrow that I think you should come to. You don’t have to share, but I think you’ll find value in hearing their stories.” She handed me a slip of paper. “Afterward, I can schedule in a session for you.”

  A session. “Gee, thanks doc.”

  She gave me a smirk. “Rafe, this is my job.”

  Asshole. “Right. Sorry.”

  She came around her desk again and walked toward her door. I guess that was my cue that my time was up.

  As she reached for the handle, I blocked her from opening the door. It put me in close proximity to her. Close enough that I could smell her sweet scent and feel her warmth. It brought back the memories of those six weeks I spent with her in my arms.

  I reached out and toyed with a tendril of her blonde hair. “My sweet Summer.”

  Her eyes flashed with heat, and I was glad to finally see recognition of the personal connection we’d had. Before she could remind me again that she was a professional, I dropped my hand and let her open the door.

  As I walked out of the VA hospital, I realized that for the first time in five years, my heart didn’t feel like a dead lead weight in my chest. My sweet Summer had brought me a little bit of warmth and light. I was still an asshole that wasn’t good enough for her, and I’d need to remember that.

  3

  Summer

  It took a good fifteen minutes to regroup once Rafe left. It wasn’t just the shock of his sudden appearance, but the potency of the man. He’d always had something about him that made him stand out, but now it was even more. He seemed bigger, darker, more intense. And holy cow, sexier than ever. He got angry at my professionalism. If he only knew that the whole time I was imagining him naked while I straddled his giant cock and rode him on the couch.

  I laughed at myself because I hadn’t thought about sex much in the last five years. While there had been a few opportunities, including a proposition from married Jacob, I hadn’t been interested. When I was in need of some sexual relief, I took care of those needs by myself. When I did, Rafe was always the star of the show.

  Then there was the initial panic at his seeing Emma’s picture. She looked so much like him, I don’t know how he didn’t put two and two together. Thankfully he hadn’t. That thought made me feel guilty because he had a right to know. But until I knew his state of mental health and he got his life together, I had to protect my baby girl.

  Eventually, I pulled my emotions and hormones back in order and was able to get through the day. I left an hour early so I could visit my brother before picking up Emma from daycare. I had a few questions about his contact with Rafe, and why he never said anything to me.

  I arrived at his restaurant, which sat on the edge of town at the bend in the river. I was so proud of not only his business success but even more so how he got his life together and fought his demons every day to be the man he wanted to be. I had some concerns when he bought the restaurant with bar. As a recovering alcoholic, working around booze didn’t seem like a good idea, but so far, so good. He hadn’t touched the stuff since just after Emma was born.

  I walked in and saw a group of men standing in a circle. The tension was high although I couldn’t immediately figure out what was going on.

  “Lester, he doesn’t want a drink,” my brother was saying to Lester Smalls. Lester was alright, except when he was drinking. Then he was an asshole.

  “I just want to thank him for his service.” Lester reached his arm out as if he wanted to pat someone. That ‘someone’ was Rafe, whose eyes darted around the room, his breathing harsh and shallow. Oh God, he was having a panic attack.

  “He appreciates that, but he doesn’t want a drink. Now, please leave the man be.” My brother had his eye on Rafe and Lester, while other men stood around watching. Like Rafe was some freak show.

  I want
ed to run to him and wrap my arms around him, pull him from the commotion and take him somewhere to soothe his soul. But I knew touching him might make it worse. He needed less stimulation right now, not more.

  “What is it about you pussy Marines? Can’t hold a drink,” Lester scoffed.

  I walked behind my brother, hoping that Rafe would see me, and if he did, I could lead him out of the restaurant.

  My brother didn’t take his eyes off Rafe but did acknowledge me. “Can you help him?”

  “I’ll try.” I had read through Rafe’s file finally, and it suggested he had nightmares, anxiety, and depression. He wasn’t on any medication to help manage the anxiety or depression. The person taking his call made a note that indicated Rafe was resistant to any medicinal help. I supposed that went back to his parents, and his desire to not end up like them. Of course, the medication to manage emotions was a far cry from fentanyl.

  Rafe took a step back from Lester and his eyes looked to the door as if assessing how far away it was.

  “Rafe,” I said his name calmly and gently.

  His gazed jerked to mine immediately and held.

  I smiled and started moving slowly toward him with my hand out. He looked at my hand as if it had cooties until finally he reached out and took it.

  “How about we get out of here?”

  He swallowed hard and nodded.

  “Can’t help you if you want booty,” Lester sneered. Rafe stiffened and shot Lester a hard, cold stare.

  “Lester I’m going to ban you from this place if you don’t stop being a fucking asshole,” my brother said. “Get him out of here,” he murmured to me.

  With a gentle tug, I lead Rafe outside. Once there, he inhaled a deep breath. “Fuck.”

  Then he started walking along River Street presumably toward his grandmother’s house. He seemed to have forgotten I was there, but I trotted along. I didn’t say anything, instead, giving him space to clear his head.

 

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