Love Therapy (GxG)

2

Hey again, if you're here, I'd like to thank you for giving my first story a shot.

Just a quick thing: what I describe is mostly from my therapy. (Not that I had a crush on my therapist.......🙃)  I just want to say that she never called me by my first name, so don't be surprised or mad at Dr. Alexander for usually not calling her patients by their first names.... that's it. I just want to say that everyone is different and had a different experience,there's no wrong or right one, so there's mine ;)

Enjoy

***

"Ah, Kennedy Grant, of course. I knew it sounded familiar."

I can't help myself from looking her up and down. She's wearing a navy blue pencil skirt, and a white blouse tucked in, and this time blue stilettos. She has make up on, and looks very professional. And hot. I just can't help thinking that she's hot.

I hate it.

Realizing I have just been staring at her for the past 30 seconds, I try to come up with something. I open my mouth, then close it. My brain is empty and I have no idea what to say.

The woman that wrecked my car, who I insulted and yelled at, the one I can't stop thinking about since I saw her yesterday, is my therapist?

I'm already too intimidated by her to even let out a normal sentence.

"I-erm, what?" I manage to stutter something, and seeing her lips curve into a half smile, she seems to find the situation rather amusing.

"Well, get in Miss Grant! You're already late, I wouldn't want us to waste the-" she glances at her watch, "45 minutes we have left with you standing in front of my office."

I enter the room and hear her closing the door behind me. I carefully sit on the comfortable seat, before glancing up at her, still standing behind me.

She is staring at me when I turn around and our eyes meet, and she quickly looks away when she realizes I'm watching her.

She's acting strange. As if I caught her in an embarrassing position.

She then decides to join me, pulls a comfy-looking leather seat from behind the shiny wooden desk to sit, directly facing me. She joins her hands and places her chin on them, staring at me with her intimidating icy eyes.

I don't want to avert my eyes, so I stare back at her.

All that in the most awkward silence.

"So," she starts, crossing one long leg over the other. "I have your file, and notes taken by Mr. Clay. You can tell me a bit about yourself, and if you don't want to go through everything, I can re-read your file. It's all up to you."

Her voice is still very soothing, and I'm grateful of what she just told me. She seems to be aware that it can be difficult for me to start all over again with a new person.

"Thank you, Misses- erm, Doctor, I should say?" She has a doctorate degree, I guess someone with 8 years of studies has the right to be called with the appropriate title.

She smiles, and I can tell she appreciates the gesture.

I continue. "Thank you, but what's the point, you just already read everything I told Mr. Clay."

"I do know basic information about you. I don't know what you chose to confide in Mr. Clay, just because if you told him whatever you told him, it is because you trusted him. And I want you to trust me and tell me what you feel yourself."