Page 40 of Brainwashed

I’m suddenly feeling extremely vulnerable; exposed, and I’m not sure why. The way he’s wordlessly gazing at me is bringing a strange heat to my cheeks. I swallow hard and look down at my shoes.

What is going on here? I don’t care about doctors. Why am I reacting this way?

It must just be because he’s gorgeous. And I mean, like, crazy, stupidbeautiful.

He’s taller than me by a few inches, and obviously thickly muscled. The way his navy-blue button-down shirt is draped around him, stretched across his broad shoulders and sliding down his torso, tucked into tailored pants and fastened with a black belt around his waist…

He looks very professional.Dapper. Less like a doctor and more of an investment banker.

Just standing over there, large hands gripping a manila folder…

When my eyes slide back up to his face, I find him no longer looking at me. He’s reading something inside the folder, some files, with this bored air about him. It sticks in my throat.

Is he not impressed by me? Am I not all he thought I’d be?

Shifting from foot to foot, I wonder if I should act more like a serial killer.Should I start screaming and hollering, like O’Malley? Should I lunge at him and try to bite him?

I blink hard.Why am I second-guessing myself?? I shouldn’t care this much. Why do I feel like I need to put on a show for this guy?

Attempting to be subtle, I keep watching him while he leafs through the papers, ignoring my presence completely. My eyes scan his chiseled face, smooth brown complexion, facial hair perfectly trimmed along a very sharp jaw, and these immaculate shoulder-length dreadlocks tied back in a half-ponytail of sorts. Full lips pursed into an unimpressed line while he reads.

My teeth sink into my lower lip.Look at me. Please, please, look at me again.

His eyes fling to mine once more. Just briefly. A split second before they fall back to the file in his hands. But it was enough to make my stomach jump while I squirm inside of my straitjacket.

I open my mouth as if to say something, but I have no idea what it should be. It’s been several minutes, and he hasn’t said a single word. He’s completely ignoring me, and for some reason, it’s winding me up. It’s almost like he doesn’t care that I’m here at all, which turns me oddly twitchy.Why bring me in here if you’re not going to say anything??

The man, whom I can still onlyassumeis my new doctor, turns away from me, waltzing casually toward the bookshelf by his desk. He looks like he’s searching for something, the file folder still in his hand. He hasn’t put it down yet, which is interesting.I wonder if it’s mine… It must be, right?

Inching closer, I attempt to get a look at the folder, to see if my name is on it. But then the man’s face shifts and he pins me with a look. My lips sit agape once more, like I want to say something to him, but I still haven’t found the words.

Should I introduce myself? I mean, he should really be doing that. It’s standard practice for the doctor to introduce himself first, isn’t it?

I’ve been to therapy sessions before, when I was a kid. And sure, I never spoke much to those guys, but that was because I knew that was what they wanted. I was always painfully aware that they wanted me to spill my secrets, and I liked holding that over their heads.

But this man doesn’t seem at all interested. In fact, it seems like he couldn’t care less if I were in the room with him or not.

I consider turning to the door and trying to leave. Velle’s still out there.Maybe I should just have him bring me back. This is a waste of time.

I don’t know what to think.I’m feeling very out of place right now.

A sort of hum escapes me in lieu of the words I can’t find, and the man turns. And when he tilts his head and stares at me again, his inquisitive amber eyes dispel everything I was just thinking.

Hedoeswant me here. I can tell.

The man finally closes the file folder, clutching it to his chest while we stare at each other some more, the air thickening in this small room. My lips aren’t moving, but I can hear myself telling him,hello. I’m Felix.

Hi, Felix.

I shiver.

Suddenly, he’s moving. He’s walking, taking steps right toward me. My body stiffens, nervous flutters racking my insides as he approaches me swiftly. My eyes lock on him while he grows closer, his nearness showcasing his size even more. He must be at least six-three, those three inches over me seeming monumental in this moment. And the broad size of him, the fabric stretched so much around obvious muscle, I think a sudden movement would burst him right out of them…

I mean, I’m not small by any means. I consider myself to be pretty damn cut, but this man is…big. Proportionately large, since he doesn’t look ‘roided-out or anything. He just looks like he hones strength into every inch of himself.Like he could pick me up and toss me around effortlessly.

And now my mouth is watering.

I gulp it down as he steps right up to me and my chin lifts.