12

Don't do it, man. Don't do it.

"Dr. Simms!" Fuck it. The psychiatrist stopped and turned around, giving me time to hand a prescription to the nurse and catching up with him. I'd been a doctor long enough to know what I was doing was ethically wrong, but it'd been eight days with no sign of Bloom. No glimpse of him in the parking lot. No showing up at my office unannounced. No sending me creepy, inappropriate, and juvenile gifts.

When I woke up the morning after I'd given him a blow job, he was gone. He'd disappeared from my life in the same way he'd appeared. Abruptly. I'd told myself countless times that Bloom keeping his distance was for the best. Maybe he'd finally come to his senses and realized there was no future for us.

But every second my mind wasn't occupied with work, my thoughts strayed to him and that last night we'd spent together. Why hadn't he given me a chance to comfort him the next day?

"Dr. Collier, what can I do for you?"

Dr. Simms was a new psychiatrist at the hospital and kept mostly to himself. He didn't make any effort to get to know the staff and build a working relationship with them, but who was I to judge when I was the same?

"How are you getting on at the hospital?" I fell into step with him as he resumed walking briskly.

"I get along fine, Dr. Collier." He pushed his glasses up his nose. "All the patients I have to see keep me busy. That's all I can ask for."

"I don't recall seeing you at the charity event a week ago."

He halted, furrowing his brow. "Dr. Collier, is there a reason for you delaying me? I do have patients to attend to."

"Actually, yes, and this is going to seem unconventional, but I'd like to talk to you about a patient of yours—Bloom."

"I see. And what is it you wish to know?"

"Has he been attending his sessions with you?" Bloom could avoid me all he wanted, but that boy had issues he needed to work out. He couldn't do that if he stopped going to his appointments.

"And in what capacity are you asking me that question, Dr. Collier?"

"He's a…friend. I'm concerned whether he's keeping his appointments."

"Frankly speaking, I'm disappointed in you for asking me such a question. I don't know what guidelines you follow, Doctor, but I don't divulge my patients' information to anyone. Even if they happen to be a so-called friend." His voice dripped with disdain.

My nostrils flared, and heat rose to my cheeks. But what could I do? I was in the wrong. I might be a doctor, but I had no reason to know about Bloom's coming and going to the hospital to see his psychiatrist.

"I understand your position, Dr. Simms, and I apologize for overstepping." I offered him a polite smile. "I merely thought I could help in the event he was not attending."

"Your expertise is in trauma surgery. With all due respect, you have no business interfering with a patient of mine. Now if you'll excuse me…"

What a pompous jerk.

"I thought you would be concerned about the well-being of a patient. If Bloom isn't showing up and you know of someone who can make him take the sessions seriously, isn't it your responsibility to listen?"

Dr. Simms stopped. "Bloom needs to see the value in our sessions and attend willingly. Will you be there all the time to check if he shows up?"

"But surely, if I get him to attend his sessions, you're good enough at your job to convince him to stick with the program, aren't you?"

"Why don't we cut to the chase, Dr. Collier?" He crossed his arms. "Everyone at the hospital knows of you behaving unprofessionally toward this young man. A young man who has such severe mental disorders from the harsh abuse he's suffered in his childhood that he doesn't think or see the world the way we do. Does it make you feel important—like some sort of god—the way he hangs on to your every word? Because I have a newsflash for you. None of it is real. He doesn't know what love is. He has an attachment disorder and is incapable of forming relationships with others. In the rare event he does form those relationships, it becomes an obsession, dependency—not love. For whatever reason, he's decided to latch on to you, and everyone at the hospital witnesses this obsession. If you continue with this farce, you will only exacerbate his mental health condition. If that happens, you'll have crossed the line from being unprofessional to unethical." His words came out with such a calm finality that my chest tightened at their implication.

He wasn't wrong. Wasn't that a part of the reason I'd stayed away from Bloom? I understood well enough how poor mental health affected people. The way Bloom had huddled in the closet that night, trapped in his mind, was proof Dr. Simms had a point. But was it fair to Bloom to dismiss what he wanted? Was my view skewered because I wanted him to want me like he said? That I even enjoyed how obsessed he was with me and the tiny victorious leaps my heart made whenever he did something grossly inappropriate, like threatening people just to be close to me?

Not only had I gotten used to having Bloom around me, but I also craved how he treated me like a god, and the realization made me feel sick. No healthy relationship could come out of what we had.

"I'm pretty sure you're not supposed to be explaining his diagnosis to me."

"Only for you to see that you're a part of this young man's problem, so why don't you butt out of his life and allow me to heal minds while you continue to heal bodies?"

Son of a bitch. He walked off with his spine ramrod straight, the echo of his harsh words lingering, yet everything inside me rebelled against them…wanted to prove him wrong. Even though he wasn't. Bloom was unpredictable. One minute suffocating me with his presence—and he proved asphyxiation might not be so bad after all—and the next he was nowhere to be found.

Guilt bubbled up within me, a gnawing feeling that twisted my insides. I ran a hand over my face, the weight of the truth pulling at my resolve. There was no denying it. Dr. Simms's words had stung, but they were not without merit.

How could I hinder Bloom's progress by being selfish? Despite pushing Bloom away, I'd allowed myself to be intoxicated by his obsession with me. Maybe even feeding it by letting him get his way.

Jesus. I needed a stiff drink. And a quick lay to push Bloom from my mind. I glanced at my watch and breathed a sigh of relief. In another hour, I could go home. To my empty house. I could take a shower and recall the way he'd tasted when he came in my mouth. Then I would grab clean clothes from the closet where I'd watched him that night, worried he would hurt himself.

I care about him too. I want him to be well.

Deep in thought, I continued to my office and almost bumped into two figures standing in front of my door. Nicholas and James were engaged in what looked like a deep conversation.

"Nicholas, what are you doing here?" I asked. "How did you find my office?"

"A nurse showed me. I came upon Dr. Dehaney, who was explaining that you'd already left for the day."

James subtly lifted his eyebrows as if daring me to call him out for lying when he knew damn well that I was on until six this evening. When had I ever left work early? He knew this better than anyone else.

"I'm still here, as you can see." I unlocked my door. "Come on in."

James entered first as if I was talking to him. I gritted my teeth. How can I dissuade him from shoving me and Bloom together at every turn?

"Actually, I'm meeting up with a friend, so this is going to be brief," Nicholas said. "Thought I'd ask you to have dinner with me tonight so we can catch up, reminisce about old times. We didn't spend nearly enough time talking at the charity event."

From the way he was biting his lip, it was clear what old times he wanted to bring up—possibly reenact. Why didn't I feel the same level of attraction to him now that I had in the past?

"Dr. Collier, I don't think you can make it tonight," James said.

"And why not?"

"Well, you have that thing tonight."

"I don't have a thing."

"Are you sure?" James clenched his teeth. "I'm pretty sure you do."

"Wait a minute. I remember you." Nicholas wagged a finger at James. "You were the one wearing the dress. The one who handed Logan the award. I didn't recognize you without the heels."

"Yup, I'm one and the same."

"Logan, all this time, I thought the dark-haired boy was the one you were interested in." Nicholas laughed. "But it's this one, right? Isn't he a bit too, err, effeminate for your taste?"

James threw his arms around me and kissed my cheek. "Exactly. He's my man, and there's no way I'm letting him go out on a date with you. Sorry."

"James!" I untangled his arms from around my neck, scowling. "Will you quit it? Nicholas, he's just horsing around. He is not my anything."

"Ouch. I at least thought I was your friend."

"Put a lid on it, James. Yes, Nicholas, I can meet you somewhere for dinner tonight, especially since I don't feel like eating at home alone."

"I know someone who'd be glad to eat with you every night," James grumbled loudly. This—this was what I got for spending too much time with these brats. Nicholas would be more up to my speed. Quick sex, then good-byes.

"Are you sure this won't be a problem?" Nicholas asked.

"No, of course not. Did you have a place in mind?"

"Yeah. How about eight at Le Bonbon? You remember the little French place we used to sneak off to?"

No way would I tell him the restaurant was a regular spot where I met up with my random hookups. He'd never been anyone special, but he never wanted more from me than I could give him. Not like he-who-should-no-longer-be-named.

If you continue with this farce, you will only exacerbate his mental health condition.

This was for the best. "Sounds perfect."

"Is it, though?" James huffed. "You're playing a dangerous game, Nicholas. Logan's already taken by someone who won't like you going out with his man."

"Don't pay him any mind," I said. "You know I don't do relationships."

"That's right. I'll see you later, then, Logan. Good-bye, you jealous little liar. You don't need to worry. I'm just breezing through town, so by tomorrow, he'll be all yours again."

Exactly. The perfect man for a night of passion with a mature adult who could handle sex without a relationship. Bloom was not that guy. All I'd done was criticize him once, and he'd latched on to me since.

The door shut behind Nicholas, and James rounded in on me, his chin tilted in a stubborn arch. "I don't like him. He's not suitable for you."

"Good. I'm not looking for a relationship." I sat at my desk, picking up files and putting them down randomly. "Is there a reason you're here?"

"I thought when you went home with Bloom, you worked out your differences."

"Whatever gave you that idea?"

"The whole club knows he spent the night with you."

"James, you don't understand, and I don't need to discuss my personal life with you."

"You're making a big mistake." James curled his hands into fists at his sides. "You've been this colossal asshole since the day we met—so damn cold and freezing out everyone. I'm the only one who dares to get close to you, and you still keep me at a distance. I don't even know when your fucking birthday is. You have no social media, no family—nothing. Finally, there comes a guy who worships the ground you walk on. He'd do anything—anything—to be with you, and all you do is push him away."

"James, surely, you know Bloom has a host of mental health issues he's working on through therapy."

"So? He can't do it and have a relationship at the same time? He doesn't deserve to be loved before he's whole? Is that it?"

"It's more of doing him a disservice by not giving him the time to fully understand his feelings. You've seen Bloom's extremes. You know that's not love."

James dropped his gaze. He knew damn well I was right. Bloom might convince himself he was in love with me, but he didn't even know me. Would he still love me if he knew the man he professed to love was nothing but a shell of his former self wrapped in a name that wasn't even his?

"All I know is that he thinks he's in love with you. He might not have a clear picture of what love is yet. It might be an obsession, but I don't think it's completely empty. There's something else there, Dr. Collier."

But what if there wasn't?

The scene of Bloom in the closet, wailing and scratching at the wall, flashed through my mind. I couldn't risk it. He was already in a fragile state that may have a catastrophic result in the future. He'd stabbed himself in the thigh, for fuck's sake, just to be with me. How could I feed into that kind of behavior?

James might not understand it, but I was keeping Bloom at arm's length for his own good. Dr. Simms had reminded me of what was at stake, and even though I didn't want to, I cared too much to hurt him with my uncertain life. Even ten years of living in Smoky Vale didn't guarantee where I would wake up tomorrow.

And if that meant going on a date with Nicholas to convince myself I was moving on from that boy, I would do it. No matter how little my heart was into it.