On Dublin Street(53)

“But you could have just walked away from Dublin Street. Put Braden out of your life for good rather than come to this agreement with him. Why didn’t you?”


I frowned, thinking that was obvious. “Because of Ellie. She’s my friend.”


Dr. Pritchard nodded carefully, taking this in. “So you’re willing to explore something with a man who you previously said scared you because of how he made you feel, and you’re willing to do this because of your friendship with his sister?”


“Yes.”


“So you’re willing to care about Ellie… but not about Braden?”


Wait. No. What? “That’s not…” I trailed off, feeling my chest tighten. “Ellie’s a friend. That doesn’t mean anything. I like her. I don’t want to lose her, but that doesn’t mean anything.”


Dr. Pritchard sighed, for once looking a little irritated. “You know, Joss, this process will go a lot smoother if you stop lying to yourself.”


I took a deep breath, focusing on opening my lungs up. “Okay.” I nodded. “I care about her. She’s a good friend and a good person.”


“And yet, you tell yourself all the time that you care about no one. That you will never care enough to get close.”


“It’s not like she’s my family,” I bit out, desperate to make my point, make her see how I saw things. “It’s not the same thing.”


She cocked her head to the side in the way I hated. “Are you sure about that? I think from everything you’ve told me, Ellie treats you like family.”


“You’re twisting what I said.” I shook my head, feeling that familiar headache. “I care about people. I never said I didn’t. I care about Rhian and James, and yeah I care about Ellie.”


“So why won’t you let yourself care about Braden?”


I looked at my feet. “It’s just sex,” I muttered.


“But there’s no guarantee that’s true, Joss,” Dr. Pritchard answered quietly. “No one can predict how you’ll feel about Braden by the time the three months are up. Or how he’ll feel about you. And considering you’ve told me that your feelings for Braden scare you, I suggest you think on that carefully.”


“The way I felt for him sexually scared me. It’s intense. But I can deal with it. It’s just sex,” I repeated stubbornly, and somewhere deep down, buried under all my steel, there was a voice telling me I was willingly sticking my head in the sand.


***


“So, is it true you’re banging Braden Carmichael?” Jo asked loudly as I poured my customer a pint of Tenants.


The customer caught my answering glower and grinned sympathetically as he took his drink. “Why don’t you say that a little louder, Jo? I don’t think the people in the back heard you.”


“Alistair caught them.” Craig waggled his brows suggestively as he reached past me for a bottle of Bailey’s. “Said he was practically in your knickers.”


Alistair had a big mouth.


I shrugged indifferently at the two of them and took my next customer’s order.


“Oh come on,” Jo complained. “I had my eye on him. I want to know if he’s off the market.”


Ignoring the flash of anger I felt at that, I shot her a cold smile. “You can have him when I’m done.”


Jo’s mouth fell open. “So it’s true? You’re sleeping with him?”


Apparently so, although the sleeping thing hadn’t originally been part of the deal. The son-of-a-bitch had snuck that in. I raised an eyebrow at my colleague, refusing to get into the details.


Her face fell. “You’re not going to dish the dirt?”


I shook my head and leaned over the bar to take another order.


“Kin ah hae a mahjito, Jack in Coke, a boatil eh Millers… aw aye in eh Stace wahnted a Cosmo. Dae ye dae Cosmos?”


Luckily, working in a bar for four years in Scotland had given me plenty of practice in understanding not only the thicker accents, but the drunk, thicker accents.


In translation: Can I have a mojito, Jack and Coke, a bottle of Millers… oh yes and uh Stace wanted a Cosmo. Do you do Cosmos?


I nodded and reached down to the fridge for the Millers.


“Is he good?” Jo was suddenly in my face again.


I sighed wearily and brushed past her to start making the Cosmo.


“Is it exclusive?” Craig called down the bar. “Or can we still shag?”


“What do you mean still?” I scoffed.


“Is that a no?”


“That’s a hell no.”


“Oh come on, Joss,” Jo begged. “I’ve heard he’s an ‘effin stallion in the sack, but that’s second hand gossip. Give me first hand.”


“Tell you what,” I mused, “Why don’t I give you first finger?” I flipped her off. Yeah, I know, not the most eloquent or mature response but she was really starting to bug me.


Jo scowled. “You’re no bloody fun.”