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  She nodded, trying to appear interested. Ally had told her this already, of course. Apparently, Mike was helping Jami diversify his funds. Whatever that meant. “And what is that like?”

  “It’s exciting,” he said with a huge grin. “I love watching the numbers and chasing the highs and lows. The pay and benefits aren’t too bad either.”

  “So you’re an adrenalin junkie,” she teased. A man who liked to chase numbers and punch people in the face in his downtime definitely wasn’t likely to be the couch potato type. Judging by the way his arms and chest filled out his shirt, he certainly didn’t look it.

  “A bit,” he agreed. “Have you ever been skydiving?”

  “Can’t say that I have.”

  “Well, if you’re looking for a rush, that’s the way to get it. There’s nothing more exhilarating than having the wind in your face. It’s the only time in life that you can come close to actually flying.”

  Or dying, Olivia filled in mentally. She tried to picture leaping out of an airplane and could feel her stomach plummet in response. No doubt it was a memorable experience, but the idea of watching the ground rush up to meet you wasn’t something she was eager to explore. One wrong move and splat! It was all over.

  “What do you do, Olivia?” Mike asked as he sawed into his meat loaf.

  Tossing her honeyed hair over her shoulder, Olivia wound her spaghetti noodles around her fork. “I’m a hairdresser by day and a waitress by night.”

  He nodded, an almost cute smile inching across his face. “Two jobs. By choice or necessity?”

  “Necessity,” she said. “Waitressing pays the bills, but my heart is in hair. As soon as I build a good clientele, I’ll drop the other gig.”

  “Sounds like a plan. Maybe you can give me a trim sometime.”

  “Mmm, maybe. Or some frosted tips. All the boys are doing it.”

  Shaking his head, Mike chuckled. “I’ll have to think about it.”

  The rest of the evening continued in that fashion, with the two of them exchanging friendly conversation. When it ended, Mike simply walked her to her door, wished her a good night, and gave her a peck on the cheek. No push to come inside. No sly comments to indicate that he wanted anything more. Olivia crawled into bed feeling neither happy nor sad. She just felt there, blank, and she couldn’t help comparing her time with Mike with her time with Spencer.

  She never felt blank after a date with Spencer. Nervous, excited energy used to always keep her up at night. Kept her thoughts turning, reliving every detail of their evening. Spencer was the one who swept her off her feet, and he’d hardly had to try. There was just something about him that called to something inside of her. Without him, was she destined to a lifetime of mediocrity? Was she destined for more Mikes?

  Good Lord, if she had to spend the rest of her life on an even keel, she’d end up drowning herself in the bathtub. Maybe she was an adrenalin junkie, after all, but her fix came from the highs that only one man could supply.

  It wasn’t a smart way to live. Olivia knew that. She understood it on a basic level. Spencer was exciting. His way of living was elusive and dangerous. It was unpredictable. Olivia had always been the kind of girl who ran with the so-called “bad” crowd. Her parents had tried, unsuccessfully, to get her to change, but that’s just how she was wired. It wasn’t as if she consciously sought out people like that, but she always ended up with them.

  By the time she was arrested for armed robbery along with a group of her friends, her parents, who were hardly models to look up to, were already talking about taking drastic action. Even though she hadn’t actually stolen anything, she’d been in the getaway car, which made her just as guilty in the law’s eyes. Her parents kept her out of jail by striking a plea bargain, and Olivia spent the next eighteen months in a military school.

  She’d rather have gone to jail.

  She would have served a couple months inside then finished with community service, but being sent away was more convenient for her parents. They didn’t want the hassle of dealing with her when they were wrapped up in their own drama. So, she was sent away.

  As soon as she was free to go, she’d run from the very people who claimed to have only her best interest at heart. Her life had been a series of ups and downs from then on out. So, overall, Spencer was exactly who she would have expected to fall for. He fed that part inside of her that craved a thrill. He made her feel alive, unfettered. He didn’t judge her or make her feel ashamed of herself, and in return, she loved all of him, flaws and all. She was addicted to him and had no intention of letting him go.

  FOUR

  I don’t know what to say. This whole journaling thing is new to me, but if it helps me get out of here any faster, then I’ll give it a shot.

  I’m supposed to write something positive about someone important to me. Jami has always been like a brother more than a friend. We met when we were kids and he always looked out for me. Even though we’re not talking right now, he’s still my brother. He’s the most forgiving person I know. I just hope that when I get out of here, he’ll have saved some of that for me.

  Spencer sat cross-legged on his standard twin bed, staring at the black letters scrawled across the sheet of college ruled paper. He was glad he wrote it in pen because he was tempted to erase every word. Of course, he could just rip the page out and toss it in the trash, but then he’d have to face Doc O’Valley’s irritatingly scrupulous gaze as she tried to understand why he’d done it.

  Now he understood why girls liked this shit. They were more in touch with their feelings, and writing it down made it that much more real. Grudgingly, he had to admit, he didn’t think the little exercise would work, but since he never would have said any of it out loud, maybe the doc was onto something.

  However, no matter what it said on paper, he’d veered far away from the topic he should have chosen. He just wasn’t ready for that hurdle yet.

  Lying back, he folded an arm behind his head and stared up at the pale blue mattress peeking through the metal frame above him. If he ever found himself back in his old stomping grounds, he’d have to remember to swing by the house and tell Daddy-O thanks for raising him up right. If not for him, he wouldn’t be living in such classy accommodations now.

  He shook the bitter thought away. He really shouldn’t be angry with his parents. Although it was their fault his life headed down this path, it was ultimately his choice to continue walking down it. They didn’t force him to place bets or to lie to his friends. That was all him. Justifying it wasn’t going to get him anywhere but back to square one.

  Hey, with that kind of logic, maybe this therapy crap really was doing something after all. With any luck, once he ditched this place, he’d never set eyes on it again. But even as he considered a future that didn’t involve living with a bunch of crazies and addicts, and leaving behind the security officers and cinderblock walls, his nerves grew agitated.

  Spencer had left his old life of gambling, secrets, hurt, and lies at the door. What if they were still waiting for him when he stepped outside?

  “Why so serious?” Spencer’s gaze snapped up to see his roommate entering. The guy was short with red hair and freckles and a serious hard-on for black eyeliner.

  “Hey, Carrot Top. How’s it hanging?”

  “Seven inches and a little to the left.” Nate’s snappy comebacks always gave Spencer a little chuckle. Crossing the dorm-sized space, Nate flopped down in the chair belonging to the corner desk that was a staple in every room. His sharp blue eyes held Spencer’s as his feet gently swayed the chair from side to side. “Didn’t see you downstairs for dinner. You been up here moping all afternoon?”

  Retrieving the yellow tennis ball he kept under his pillow, Spencer shot it at the underside of Nate’s bed, catching it as it bounced back. “Wasn’t hungry.”

  “Well, you missed a hell of a show. Candy had one of her meltdowns and attacked one of the servers. It took four nurses to strap her down. It was nuts-o. Shoulda bee
n there.”

  “Sorry I missed it.” But he wasn’t. It wasn’t really funny to watch someone lose their shit because their head was a mess. It was just sad.

  “Didn’t see you in the lounge either. I know you heard your name.” Spencer clenched his teeth and tossed the ball a little harder as Nate continued talking. “That honey comes here every week and leaves looking a little sadder each time. I ain’t tryin’ to judge, but you got somethin’ against pretty girls?”

  The ball fell back into Spencer’s hand and he gripped it in a tight fist. “That’s none of your business.”

  Nate held up his hands in front of him in mock surrender. “Like I said, not trying to judge. But if I had someone like that waiting for me, damn straight I wouldn’t be holed up in some dank room on a smelly mattress pondering the world.”

  “What are you talking about?” Spencer demanded, turning his cold blue eyes on his roommate. “You’re down there every week.” Obviously someone was coming to visit him, too. Otherwise, he wouldn’t know who else was there. Damn it. Why didn’t she just take the hint and stay the fuck away?

  “Yeah, to check in with my guardian. If I play nice, he’ll bankroll me another week. Speaking of, how the hell can you afford the cigarettes and shit? You got a mysterious benefactor or is that lady friend of yours wrapped that tightly around your finger?”

  “Shut the fuck up. You don’t know what you’re talking about.” He didn’t ask Liv to dump money into his account. That was her choice, and if he were a better man, he would tell her to stop. But he needed the money, and no one else was offering. He’d be an idiot to turn it down, but the decent part of him wanted her to stop wasting her time, which was why he refused to see her. Maybe one day she would stop showing up. It was going to happen, and he dreaded it because that’d be the day his world would hit bottom.

  “Yeah, you’re probably right. What do I, a loaner junkie, know about love,” Nate said, and it wasn’t difficult to hear the sarcastic note in his voice. The asshole.

  Annoyed and so over this conversation, Spencer tossed his feet onto the floor, grabbed his notebook, and headed for the door.

  “Where are you off to? I thought we could play Go Fish.”

  Holding up his notebook, Spencer called over his shoulder, “Got shit to do.” He didn’t waste time with small talk. Not when small talk led to heavy talk, and he just didn’t need these people in his personal business. Try as Nate might, they were never going to be friends.

  As Spencer let himself out into the courtyard, he caught sight of Betty Johnson, an older woman burnt out from a lifetime of heroin use, parked by the bird bath in her wheelchair. He groaned, ready to turn back around before she noticed him, but it was too late. Those distant copper eyes lifted to his and she sat up a little straighter.

  “Can I bum a cigarette?”

  His first instinct was to say no. Just flat out deny her one, because everyone who smoked always seemed to be fresh out and he was tired of being asked. But Betty was the kind of lady who was hard to say no to.

  Pity had him pulling out a fresh pack as he walked forward and handed her one. He stuck around long enough to help her light it, then retreated to a private bench on the opposite side of the garden.

  The notebook sat on his lap in open invitation. In the silence, Spencer found that he had a lot to say, and the journal was one of those things that, if he was careful, could serve as an outlet. No one but him had to ever see it. He would just read the parts that Doc wanted to hear.

  So it was decided. He was going to write. It took a few minutes to work up the nerve, but he was finally able to put pen to paper, and ended up bleeding a part of his heart out.

  His hands were shaking by the time Spencer wrote the last word. He stared blankly at the words that became less visible the faster he wrote, until it was nothing but illegible chicken scratch. But he knew exactly what it said…and it terrified the hell out of him.

  With a violent swipe, he tore the page out of the book, balled it up, and threw it as far as he could. It ended up somewhere in the garden, and in a couple hours, it would melt into nothing when the sprinklers came on.

  His heart pounded in his ears, and Spencer tapped a cigarette into his waiting fingers, and placed it between his lips. The first draw was everything he needed it to be—a therapeutic escape. The best drug ever. It was almost worth the ridiculous tax hike.

  “Can I bum a cigarette?”

  Spencer lifted his hooded eyes to find Betty rolling up on him. “You’re smoking one now, Betty,” he said patiently, pointing to the half stick hanging from her wrinkled lips.

  She looked confused, which wasn’t all that surprising. “Do you have a light?”

  “It’s already lit.” Shaking his head, he pointed at the tendrils of smoke curling up around her face. Uncomfortable, that’s what this place was. It didn’t discriminate between the mentally and emotionally damaged. Didn’t care who had full control of their faculties or not. It was just a dumping ground for ruined souls. Maybe if he’d taken a little more time, placed a few winning bets, he would have had more money to fund a better facility. But he hadn’t, so this was what he was stuck with.

  “Can I bum a cig—”

  Shoving to his feet, Spencer tossed a couple cigarettes on her lap just to shut her up. “Here you go. Don’t say I never gave you anything,” he muttered as he hurried back inside.

  It was closing in on dinnertime by the time Spencer made it back to his room, and Nate was long gone. Probably hitting up one of the girls. The guy wasn’t really selective about his women. As long as it was free, he took whatever pussy fell into his lap.

  He couldn’t blame the guy. If he let himself think about it, he missed it, too. Liv was incredible in bed. He’d always considered himself energetic, but she put him to shame. It didn’t help that she was so damn sexy. Hell, she’d practically turned him into a minute-man. It didn’t matter how often they fucked, the moment he slid inside her wet heat, his orgasm was ripped from his body.

  The woman was sex incarnate.

  Just thinking about some of the acrobatics they’d performed together made Spencer stiff with desire. He missed her. It went beyond needing a quick fix. He longed to see her beautiful face, to hear her throaty laugh, touch those luscious curves, run his tongue along the indent between her slim hips and soft stomach. Most of all, though, he missed getting lost in those incredible, expressive eyes. When Liv looked at him, she didn’t see the monster inside. She saw the man he wanted to be. For some reason, she thought he was a good person, someone worth fighting for.

  That was why he had to stay strong. Help or not, he was never going to be what she wanted him to be. He wasn’t worth the fight, and he couldn’t allow her to waste her life waiting for him when all he had to offer her was disappointment.

  FIVE

  Olivia was in the middle of coloring a client’s hair when Francesco informed her that she had a visitor. Covered in purple dye, she told the woman in her chair that she’d be right back, and hurried away.

  She barely withheld her groan when she spotted who it was. “Mike, what are you doing here?”

  Dressed in a snappy charcoal business suit, he grinned as he walked over. Leaning down, he gave her a friendly kiss on her cheek. “Hey, I was just in the neighborhood and thought I’d ask you out to lunch.”

  Their definition of being “in the neighborhood” must be completely different. Mike’s job was on the complete opposite side of town. Olivia wasn’t sure how to answer. Their date the other night had been good, but it was definitely short on romance and frankly, she just wasn’t that attracted to him. She’d thought her casual dismissal had been clear, but apparently, she was wrong.

  Scratching her temple, she tried to appear contrite. “Sorry, Mike. Normally I’d say yes, but I’m with a client.”

  His grin widened with amusement. “That’s fine. How about later? I can take you to dinner. You’ve got to eat sometime, right?”

  “I don’t know
…” she hedged, afraid to hurt his feelings. Obviously, he thought they had something going.

  “How about I make it easy on you. I’ll swing by your place at six. Wear something casual.”

  “Mike—”

  “It’ll be fun, I promise,” he said, backing away. “Oh, and you have a little purple,” he said, touching his temple. Showing all his teeth, he waved as he pushed open the door.

  Frowning, Olivia looked down, realizing she was still wearing her gloves. Scrubbing her wrist over her temple, she cursed when it came back with a smudge of purple, and rushed back to her station to clean up.

  Well, so much for being a nice person. How the hell was she going to get out of this one?

  ***

  Those gray-blue eyes were focused on him again. When Doc looked at him like that, Spencer had to hold onto his seat to keep from bolting from the room. Where the hell had she learned to look at someone like that—as if she were peering right into their soul?

  “This is good, Spencer.” She pinned her finger on the journal entry he had written yesterday. She’d taken him off guard when he’d arrived for their session, asking for his journal. He hadn’t intended for her to be so close to his personal thoughts.

  Spencer fidgeted in his seat, unable to get comfortable. “You said to explore my feelings.”

  “I did,” she agreed. Leaning back in her chair, she crossed her legs, drawing attention to her long, lean frame. Doc O’Valley was built like a newborn foal. He’d almost expect her to trip all over herself if he hadn’t already witnessed her confident strides.

  “I’m curious why you and this man you consider close enough to be your brother don’t talk anymore.”

  He shrugged and cast his gaze out toward the window, watching the green leaves on the trees sway. “It’s complicated.”

  “Spencer.” The exasperation in the doc’s voice brought his attention back around. “You know I can’t help you if you aren’t willing to help yourself, right?”