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He leans back in his chair and covers his face with his hands before dragging them down. He stares up at the ceiling. Then nods, just once.

My heart skips several beats, knowing he’s relenting, knowing he wants to hear this, and I take a deep breath. “The first one, you were going down on me in my bed at the lodge. The second one, I was giving you a blowjob here in the office. The third one, you had me on my stomach on the table in your boat, tied up, edging me, punishing me with your belt…”

His eyes fall closed, and he’s breathing heavily. I wonder if he’s hard. I wonder if he’s picturing doing all of that right now.

“Do you want the details of exactly how it felt?”

A muscle in his jaw feathers, and he gives his head a shake.

“I’m not sure what to say,” he says after a moment, his voice hoarse. He clears it and sits forward, meeting my eyes. His gaze is unreadable, blank and grey. “But it’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

“Who said I was ashamed? Those dreams are the best part of going to sleep.”

He swallows audibly. “Please don’t say things like that.”

“Why not? You wanted the truth. That’s the truth.” I lick my lips, buoyed by a strange courage, by a deep desire. “I want to get on my knees right here and crawl under that desk and?—”

“Stop!” he suddenly yells, getting to his feet, as if I was actually about to do that. His expression is one of both fear andfury. “Don’t say another fucking word about this. I am here to help you, Sydney. That is it. That is all I am to you!”

I flinch at his words, my face flaming, immediately feeling stupid. I thought maybe if I pushed him enough, I could see that obsession. I thought maybe I could make him give in. I thought maybe I could see some inkling of feelings for me.

But all I see is a boundary being thrown into place.

It’s probably for the best, but I can’t sit here and talk to him, not after this.

“I better go,” I say, quickly getting out of my chair and running to the door.

“Sydney,” he growls, calling after me. “Wait, come back.”

I don’t come back. I run down the hall, cheeks flaming, careful not to slip on the wet puddles I originally left behind, then run out into the rain.

“Sydney!”

I stop and turn around, surprised to see him running after me, getting soaked.

“Please,” he says, reaching out and grabbing my hand, holding it. “I didn’t mean to yell. I shouldn’t have yelled. I’m sorry.”

I try to take my hand from his, but his grip is strong.

His grip is always so strong, perfect for keeping me in place.

“I crossed a line, I get it,” I say, feeling helpless, like I’m caught between wanting to go and stay. “I pushed that line on purpose. But I know my place. And I know yours.Doctor.”

He shakes his head, rain streaming over his beautiful face. Fuck me for actually having feelings for my goddamn psychologist.

“I…I…” he begins. Then he raises his head, looks over my shoulder, and abruptly lets go of me. Without another word, he turns around and strides back to the building.

I turn around to see what’s caught his eye.

Michael is standing still by the totem pole, an umbrella over his head, staring our way.

He meets my eyes.

So, so cold.

Then he walks off.

I stand there in the rain until I’m drenched from head to toe, then make my way to the main lodge, wondering where I went wrong while knowing exactly why it went wrong.