Twisted Therapist 18+ Brother's Best Friend Age Gap Romance

3 - Use Your Tongue

3 - Use Your Tongue

Ivy

"I'm telling you nothing happened, Ivy," Jason drawled in the cell phone while I heard a small giggle in the background.

My heart ached, not for him, but for me, who fell for his charms. "You both were naked and kissing on our bed. Doing more than just kissing and you're telling me nothing happened?"

My hands clenched into fist, hoping my tone stays even and doesn't waver. It was hard for me to speak up during conflicts, but over the past two weeks of therapy sessions with Aiden or as I liked to call him—Doctor Aiden, during the sessions, has helped a lot.

"You're mistaking—"

"I need to go. Stop calling me."

I heard him scoffed when I was about to end the call. "Whatever, you are fat anyway."

I bit my bottom lip and forced the tears back. I was already late for the session and didn't want to waste my time overthinking about what my ex said in the end.

"Sorry, I had a call," I said, closing the door behind me. I looked at the comfortable pale blue couch and sat in the middle without meeting his eyes like I always do.Because I knew he will know something had happened, and he'd ask me to talk about it—about him and I couldn't.

His clinic was not at all like I had imagined. It was minimalist and cozy, with his certificates and various awards lined on the wall behind his desk. The bookshelf comprised a few books and antiques and craft pieces his patients had gifted him. There was a coffee table between the two couches that faced each other that always had sweets, savory snacks, tissues, and a candle.

His obsidian dark eyes kept looking at me through the thin framed glasses that should not make him more attractive than he already was. But they did. It was unfair how deliciously hot he looked in them. It made me want to lean closer and take away his glasses to see what he would do. His hair was sleeked back, his stubble neatly trimmed over his sharp jaw. A crisp gray shirt stretched over his broad shoulders with sleeves rolled over his forearms and the veins on his arms shifted ever so slightly when he wrote something in his diary.

I licked my dry lips.

The cursed frame glasses perched on his strong pointed nose, his soft lips in a thin line, made him look like the main cast of a high school porn video. Worse thing was that I could imagine him as a stern hot teacher, punishing student over his lap—

My mental pornography starring the man across from me came to a halt when he said, "Whose call was it?"

Smoothing my hand over my flowy white skirt, I lied. "Oh, i-it was nothing important."

Aiden's eyes narrowed, my eyes fixed on his hands. His long fingers closed the diary as he stood up from the chair behind his desk and strode towards the small couch across me. His movements were graceful, confident.

If I tried walking without looking at the floor like that, I would get my shoe stuck on the rug and trip.

"You are still a terrible liar, little Petal," he said in his smooth voice, his legs widening when he sat down. A spectacular image of a composed gentleman, a notepad on his thigh with a pen.

I was a terrible person to be jealous of that notepad.

"I am not little anymore," I argued weakly.

I felt little and small compared to him. It wasn't because he was tall or more than a decade older than me. It was something else entirely that gave me the shivers and made my heart rate increase. The way he presented himself and the surrounding air, always charged with something that made me intimidated by him ever since I met him.