Chapter Twenty-Five

Corey the Couples Counsellor

Crossbody

The week crept by at an agonising pace, just like the one before, and with each day that passed, a horrible sense of restless desperation grew stronger and stronger inside me.

At first, in the days after that night at that seedy motel, I’d felt like I was floating around in a languid haze. I’d been at peace, truly, possibly for the first time in my life. Then it had begun to fade as each day passed with nothing from Vince. Not a single word. Barely a glance in my direction.

I knew we’d agreed that it would only happen once and never again. I knew I’d wanted that, at the time, just like him. I knew I should have been glad that he wasn’t constantly needling me at work, snarking at everything I said, throwing jabs and picking fights. But a perverse part of me almost missed it. Missed those moments with him, even if they had made me furious and frustrated at the time.

There was something wrong with me—to miss that. And there was something wrong with me to crave another night with him. I’d got what I wanted. That should have been the end of it. The end of these… confusing feelings for him.

The end of this burning need.

In a weak moment, I’d considered going out and finding someone else to fuck me. A stranger who would be discreet. Who didn’t know me at all. Who wouldn’t have expectations. But I couldn’t bring myself to do it.

For some horrible reason, Vince Burke had a hold on me, and I found my frustration and anger growing once again because of it. I hated that he had this power over me.

I hated that he wasn’t even doing anything about it.

Another weekend of shows passed. I fought Kit this time. Vince fought Dan, continuing their storyline of the Horseman’s Steed betraying his dullahan to team up with the Rolling Rimmer. It was an entertaining match. I watched from the backstage area.

When I got into work on Monday morning, I was already in a terrible mood. Lady Potato had wolfed down her breakfast too fast and vomited it back up into one of my shoes, which I knew had to be intentional. She was pure evil.

I was sure she was still punishing me for unintentionally abandoning her for an entire night, even though I’d fed her before leaving for the motel and she seemed to barely tolerate my presence when I was home. And it wasn’t like I’d anticipated being gone until morning. I’d expected to be home once again within a couple of hours at the most.

After changing into my running shorts, I left my dressing room while tying up my hair and stopped dead at the sight of Vince emerging from his. He froze too, and when our eyes met, I quickly looked away. I never let myself look at him for long, always afraid he’d see the desperate need still burning inside me.

I started heading for the doors at the end of the corridor, but froze again when I heard him clear his throat.

“Did, uh, did Corey tell you about the thing this afternoon?”

My stomach clenched tight. I’d momentarily forgotten about our ‘therapy’ session later today.

After a brief hesitation, I glanced over my shoulder at him and nodded once. “Yes. Two o’clock.”

He nodded back and stuffed his hands into his pockets, looking uncomfortable. It made something like devastation flood my insides. Vince had always hated me, he’d always picked at everything I said and confidently made his dislike for me clear, but he’d never been uncomfortable in my presence. He was too cocky for that.

It was different now.

Clearly, he wanted to forget what had happened. All of it. Every encounter. Especially the last one. That feverish night of mindless fucking. The slow, almost savouring way he’d sucked me off at the end.

And how gentle he’d been with me the morning after, when I was sore and dazed and too sated to keep my defences up. I was sure that was what he wanted to forget the most.

Tightening my jaw, I turned back and strode through the doors, heading straight for the treadmill, needing it more than ever to burn off this awful, restless energy that plagued me.

If he wanted to forget it all, then I could forget too. I could move on just like he had.

I could.

—

I made sure to arrive at our appointment with Corey ten minutes early, so Vince and I wouldn’t end up awkwardly walking through the building together.

And, yes, perhaps I also did it to score some points and make myself look like the better, more willing participant in this farce. Over the course of the morning, my restlessness and anger had swelled, making my thoughts towards Vince increasingly bitter and resentful.

Fuck him for making me feel this way. Fuck him for doing this to me, for giving me everything I wanted for a single night. I knew the anger was irrational, but it still teemed inside me, and when I arrived at the correct door, my frame was stiff and I was in no fucking mood to talk about my feelings. Especially not with Vince in the room.

Especially not about Vince.

I rapped my knuckles on the door and looked around, my brow furrowed as it had been for most of the day. The room Corey had told us to come to was at the end of a corridor jutting off from the one that led to Holt’s office. A door further back had a plaque with Taylor’s name on it, and the one opposite said IT Manager, which meant that was where the ghoul Dan was dating worked.

“Enter,” I heard Corey call airily from inside the room.

I tried to smooth out my expression as I opened the door, but I knew I failed. Looking around, I could see that it was a largely empty and undecorated room with a table and stack of chairs pushed to one side. In the centre was a loveseat, a coffee table and a pink velvet armchair, with Corey artfully arranged in the latter.

He was wearing glasses that I knew for a fact he didn’t need, and there was a leather-bound notebook on his lap. He was dressed in an apricot-coloured smock shirt, fitted grey trousers and sharp-toed black stilettos. Demure choices for him, but he still looked good.

“Hi, darling.” He gestured at the loveseat. “Take a seat.”

“Lovely shirt.” I walked over and perched stiffly on one end. “How long do you think this will take?”

I couldn’t decide how I was feeling about this ridiculous situation. I was already exasperated by it, largely unwilling, but at the same time, my stomach was tightening with anticipation.

Vince would be here soon. We would have to talk. We would have to interact in some way, even if it was reluctantly.

Even if he was disgusted by everything that had happened between us.

I was pathetic. He loathed me, I still loathed him in some ways—mostly for the way I was feeling now—but a part of me was desperate to have him acknowledge me.

“ Whose needy little slut are you? ”

“ Y-yours. Yours. ”

“ That’s right. ”

I squirmed in my seat and rubbed my face. In some ways, it almost felt like he’d… claimed me. And then discarded me.

“As long as it takes for us to make a breakthrough,” Corey said, impassioned. Then he added in a more soothing tone, “There’s no need to be nervous, darling.”

My nostrils flared, spine snapping straight.

“I’m not nervous,” I rasped, forcing myself to push all those bleak feelings away. I refused to let Vince see them. I refused to show him that he had any power over me.

Fuck him , I thought viciously, gripping the armrest tight. Fuck him. He doesn’t get to do that to me.

Exhaling a slow, silent breath from my nose, I sat back and crossed my legs, trying to look as casual and relaxed as possible. I glanced down at my outfit. I hadn’t wanted to attend this in workout clothes, so I’d changed into a pair of soft linen trousers and a tight, sleeveless turtleneck that showed off my arms and hugged my chest and flat stomach nicely.

Not that I was trying to look good for anyone. I just liked to dress well.

“I’m sure Vince will be here soon,” Corey said in that same low, overly soothing voice as he leaned forward and poured water from the jug on the coffee table into two glasses. Then he discreetly nudged a box of tissues closer, and I had to hold back a snort.

If he expected either of us to cry during this, he was going to be very disappointed.

“Tell me how last week was for you while we wait,” Corey said in his therapist voice, crossing his legs as he leaned back and gave me an encouraging smile. “How are you finding it with the new wrestlers in our midst?”

I shrugged lightly. “Fine. The Beast and the Ghastly Boys don’t talk much. I haven’t really interacted with John.” And I had no desire to. “But I get on well with Eloise—La Dame Blanche. She’s very pleasant.”

“Oh, lovely.” Corey looked pleased. “Yes, I have noticed you two talking often. Maybe you could start teaching me French, darling. Such a romantic language.”

“I’d be delighted to,” I said politely, then couldn’t help but add, “I know six languages, including French, Italian, Mandarin and the ancient dialect my ancestors spoke in Otherworld.”

“A true polyglot.” He smiled warmly at me. “I’ve always thought you’re such an interesting person, Crossbody. I really think you and Vince can find some common ground to bond over.”

I tensed, trying not to picture him looming over me on that leopard print bed, his cock pounding inside me, his rough voice calling me his little slut and making me cry out in pleasure.

“I don’t think Vince and I have anything in common,” I said, voice slightly strained.

“Maybe not on the surface, but I’m confident we’ll find something.” Corey paused, then gestured at the room. “You’re both here, for one. Both passionate about wrestling and performing.”

“I suppose,” I muttered.

“So there’s that. Your love of the sport and the stage. And maybe…” He cast about for something else. “Maybe your childhoods were similar in some ways.”

I snorted. “I grew up in a palace in another world, one archaic and very different to this. I have no idea about Vince’s childhood, but I think I can confidently assume he was not raised the same way.”

Which was not something I pitied him for in the least. It wasn’t something I felt made me better than anyone. My childhood had been cold and lonely and lacking in the things a child needed. Like knowing their mother loved them and wanted them for more than just what they could give her.

Queen Galantha was only concerned about two things: her image, and making sure her royal bloodline continued. If one of her children—and I had been that child—compromised either, she was utterly ruthless in rectifying the situation.

Outside of that, she couldn’t care less.

My ears twitched when I picked up the sound of footsteps getting closer—almost dragging reluctantly—in the corridor outside. When a quick knock sounded on the door, my pulse leaped and my fingers tightened on the armrest.

“Enter,” Corey called, smiling over at the door as it opened and Vince slunk inside.

Heat prickled under my skin as our eyes briefly met, his so dark and opaque, before he looked at Corey and managed a very forced smile.

“Hello, Vince,” Corey was saying in his therapist voice. “Please take a seat.”

His eyes darted to me again as he reluctantly started walking forward. I shifted my legs—only slightly—so he could get between them and the coffee table, and I refused to react when his knee brushed against mine.

He was wearing sweatpants and an old T-shirt, like usual. He sat down at the other end of the loveseat, leaving as much space between us as possible, and crossed his arms, slouching low like a petulant child who didn’t want to be here. His right knee started to bounce a little.

He almost looked nervous.

“Isn’t this the room Frank and Beans brought Dan’s head to when they stole it?” he asked with a frown. “Doesn’t seem all that appropriate, Corey.”

The orc’s smile grew a touch stiff but didn’t waver. “It was the only viable space where we could have complete privacy,” he said pleasantly, smoothing down his trousers. After a pause, he added, “And the furniture is borrowed from Taylor’s office, so I didn’t have to carry it far.”

Vince huffed and rolled his eyes.

“Do you have a problem with the space I’ve chosen for our session, Vince?” Corey asked in a clipped, pointed tone, adding a curt, “Darling,” at the end that made my mouth twitch.

“No, I’m just saying,” Vince muttered, staring at the armrest so his face was tilted away from me.

“Good.” Corey opened his notebook and picked up the pen tucked between the pages. “We will purge that lingering negative ambience in the room and fill it with the joyful energy of new friendship.”

Vince snorted quietly as my mouth twitched again, before I smoothed out my face and lifted my chin.

“Now,” Corey said in a soothing voice, “let’s begin—”

“I have one more question.” Vince interrupted him, which made Corey briefly close his eyes before he fixed the calming smile back on his face and gave Vince a patient look.

“Yes, Vince?”

“Are you actually qualified to do this?” he asked doubtfully. “Like, counsel us? Therapise us? Whatever the word is.”

Corey’s nostrils flared. “Yes. Of course I am.”

“Really?” Vince sounded unconvinced as his brow lifted.

With an elegant wave of his hand, Corey gestured at a framed certificate hung on the wall behind him—the only thing adorning the blank space. Vince leaned forward to squint at it as I eyed it dubiously. It looked like a sheet of A4 paper that had something printed on it. Possibly a certificate of some kind embedded in a confirmation email. The ink was a little faded, as if it had been running out.

“I am a graduate of Dr. Otticker Sexlie Richard-Regina’s online couples therapy school,” Corey said loftily. “Specialising in sex and relationship counselling, but many of the methods will apply here. It was a gruelling, intense two-week course.”

Vince and I stared at him in silence.

Corey gave us a winsome smile and sat back, poising the pen over his notebook.

“Now, let’s begin.”