Page 9

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The rest of the weekend flew by, especially after going to the bar with Kaia on Saturday night.

My Sunday consisted of laying in bed, watching Netflix on my MacBook, and DoorDashing McDonald's.

I didn't leave my apartment once that day.

Luckily, my class didn't start until noon the next day, which I was thanking my past self for.

I had specifically chosen afternoon classes for Software Engineering and Artificial Intelligence.

The best part is that I'm out of class by two.

On Wednesday it's three since my other class meets at one instead of twelve.

It's probably my most lenient semester so far, and it's my last one so that's an even bigger plus.

Today was the typical first day, discussing a syllabus that every professor normally slacks on throughout the semester, going over the course outline, and then I was out.

The only assignment I had to do was submit my honor pledge for the online part of the class and set up my lockdown browser for future exams.

Then I was free to do whatever I wanted, so I decided to go to the gym.

To grow my ass of course.

I focused on hip thrusts, step-ups, the leg press, and a few other exercises that gave me a good burn.

At that point, I felt productive enough to make dinner afterward.

I'm not that experienced with cooking though, so I just made that viral TikTok pasta.

I had gotten the ingredients for it on Saturday but never made it since Kaia dragged me out to the bar that night.

But since it was Monday night and classes had started, we both mutually decided to stay in.

Kaia had a full day of classes so she was much more exhausted than me, which is why I invited her over for dinner.

The pasta I made also turned out so fucking good.

I had to put it away until Kaia arrived so I wouldn't eat the whole thing.

The first objective on Kaia's list was wine, unsurprisingly, but I was far from in the mood to drink.

I just didn't want to feel like shit tomorrow.

I also had a really productive day today and I'm trying to stay true to that.

"It's never fun drinking without you," Kaia frowned dramatically, taking a brief sip of her wine as I focused on eating my pasta.

I have a really good appetite after my workout from earlier.

"You'll be fine," I said with an amused smile, taking a brief sip of my water.

Kaia rolled her eyes, "Don't tell me you're turning into buzzkillington?" she said, picking her fork back up for a bite of pasta.

"I don't have to drink every single night, Ki," I pointed out, my tone defensive due to her accusation.

She basically just called me lame... or said I'm turning into someone who is.

"Damn, I'm not saying you have to," Kaia said, chewing her food as she set her fork down with a clatter.

"You just asked me if I'm turning into buzzkillington," I pointed out, setting my fork down as I turned my attention to her.

"Because you are—a little wine with dinner never hurts anyone," Kaia argued with a shrug.

I rolled my eyes, "And that's your opinion, but I don't want to drink and feel like shit tomorrow," I said, my tone tight with her.

Kaia lazily raised her brows, "One glass does that to you?" she asked in disapproval, her dark eyes holding mine.

"Yeah because I'm a normal fucking person," I shot back, my ears burning from her judgment, "I'm not an alcoholic like you."

My harsh words rang through the air even after I uttered them aloud, making Kaia's face visibly drop.

It made my face drop too, not meaning to insult her to that degree.

"Says the one who randomly drinks tequila in the fucking morning," Kaia scoffed, standing from the barstool, "You sound just like your mom right now."

My lips parted, but no words came out, feeling a shockwave run through me.

I don't know how we got here—we never argue.

"I'm leaving," Kaia determined, causing me to immediately stand from my chair.

"No, wait, Ki," I quickly said, not wanting this to turn into a big deal.

I love being her friend, she's the only person who truly gets me.

"No, if I wanted to get called an alcoholic, I would just call my dad," Kaia mumbled, but even I could see the tears in her eyes.

"I'm sorry okay? I didn't mean it," I quickly whispered, gently grabbing her hand.

Kaia tugged away at first.

Until she halted her steps with a deep sigh, wiping her tears away with her other hand.

"I'm sorry too," she whispered, turning to face me with teary eyes, "I wasn't trying to make you drink—I was just saying it isn't fun without you."

I quickly nodded, "I know-I know," I assured her, my tone rushed as I wrapped my arms around her for a hug, "Just don't leave okay?"

Kaia sniffled as she wiped more of her tears away, "I'm not," she said, burying her face in my chest and hugging me tighter.

I let out a deep sigh of relief at her words, relaxing into our shared hug.

It was silent between us for a moment as we stood wrapped in each other's arms.

Kaia pulled away first, leaning into me and briefly kissing my cheek.

Until she suddenly halted by my lips.

I wasn't really in the mood to do anything sexual but I also wanted to give her what she wanted, especially after our previous argument.

It'll also help her stay.

I gently grabbed Kaia's hips, leaning into her and initiating a kiss that she immediately reciprocated.

It was our usual rushed and detached kiss, trailing my hands down her body and tugging at the waistband of her jeans.

Kaia reached down to unbutton them for me as I guided her back on the couch, straddling her as she struggled to pull her jeans down.

But I didn't need them down too far to access where she wanted me.

"Yes," Kaia breathed out in a deep exhale, "Libby."

I watched her underneath me, zoning out as I rubbed her clit, sliding two fingers past her folds and angling them where I knew was her spot.

Kaia gripped the couch underneath her in response, arching up into me.

Her moans and whimpers echoed around me as I remained silent, continuing to fuck her until she finally came undone.

She physically relaxed underneath me with a deep exhale, relaxing around my fingers buried inside of her.

I carefully slid out of her and stood from her lap before she could offer to do me, heading over to the sink and washing my hands.

"Did you want any more pasta?" I asked her, drying my hands as she stood from the couch, buttoning her jeans up.

"Oh yeah, it's so good," she said, walking over to the kitchen island and sitting back down.

I smiled, "See, I told you it's addictive," I pointed out, walking over to sit back down beside her.

"It is—we should have this every week," Kaia determined as she picked up her fork.

My smile widened at the idea, feeling the lightness between us quickly fall back into place.

We didn't discuss our previous argument or even the fact that I just fucked her on my couch.

We were back to our usual dynamic—or back in Ki and Libby world as Kaia would say.

She stayed over that night, watching Netflix with me before we both decided to get ready for bed.

Kaia left duplicates of her stuff over here so she never had issues staying the night.

We wore the same size too so she could always borrow my clothes.

Since she had class early the next morning, I offered her my closet in exchange for being quiet as fuck and letting me sleep.

Luckily, I didn't wake up until eleven the next morning so Kaia had successfully gotten ready and left without waking me.

Today's agenda only consisted of therapy, but I still decided to clean up my apartment.

After making my bed, I suddenly sprung into this weird cleaning mode.

I even organized my closet and threw out anything old in my fridge.

After that, I went out to get a smoothie from a couple blocks away, getting some steps in for the day.

I sipped my smoothie as I walked home, checking on school once I got back to ensure nothing else was assigned.

There wasn't anything new to do, so I got to chill for another half hour before it was time to get ready for therapy.

I decided I wanted to look extra cute today, so I put effort into my outfit.

It was simple—a strapless white corset with lace lining at the top and distressed light jeans with a frayed low waistband that exposed my lower stomach.

I picked out a white bolero to cover more of my arms since it was much colder now that it was the evening.

Before getting dressed, I showered and did a full wash day for my hair.

I still had two hours until my appointment so I had time to brush out my curls properly and diffuse them so they were dried and set.

After that, I did light makeup, gelling down my brows, applying light concealer, and topping it off with blush and highlight.

The last thing I had to do was my usual lip combo consisting of a brown lip liner and pink gloss.

I pulled on my outfit after, tying the corset to emphasize my waist and cleavage.

I paired the outfit with closed-toe Dior kitten heels, which matched my white top.

Last was perfume, spraying on Valentino and Burberry.

Excitement buzzed through me as I exited my apartment to head down to my car.

I actually felt excited for therapy, just not for the therapy aspect.

Just the therapist herself.

Hopefully, my outfit today will prove as a distraction since it's more mature in my terms.

I normally wear short skirts or cropped tops so this is the best it'll get.

On the way over to the familiar skyscraper building, I found myself open to the idea of therapy twice a week.

It's a full hour of purposely pushing Dr. Leclair's limits and costing my mother more money in the end.

This can be a win-win.

"Hi, Sienna," I greeted the familiar receptionist with my usual smile, "I'm here for my appointment with Dr. Leclair," I told her.

Sienna smiled at me, "Of course, I'll let her know you're here," she said, suddenly motioning to my hair, "Your curls are so pretty."

I felt my smile grow, along with my confidence, "Thank you," I said as she nodded a few times in response.

I sighed contently as I turned around, anticipating the moment Dr. Leclair would emerge from the familiar hallway.

I didn't necessarily feel like sitting down to wait so I stood for a moment—

Immediately glancing over when I noticed her presence.

"Dr. Kincaid," I said, a smile growing on my lips as the familiar woman walked into the lobby with a large white Birkin on her arm.

Her dark hair was slicked up into a high bun, wearing navy dress pants and a white blouse.

Given her keys in her hand, she seemed to be leaving.

"Liberty," Dr. Kincaid addressed me as her dark eyes met mine, "How are you?" she asked, stopping in front of me with a small smile.

"I'm good," I said, glancing down to her outfit, "We're kind of matching," I joked with her, noticing we both wore white today.

"Great minds think alike," Dr. Kincaid determined, her smile growing.

I smiled back at her—

"Liberty," I heard her familiar voice cut into our conversation, my gaze shifting past Dr. Kincaid.

Dr. Leclair stood at the threshold of the hallway, her hands calmly clasped in front of her and her blue eyes on me.

She wore a silk button-up with a thin silk scarf that matched the dress shirt, wrapped loosely around her neck.

To match her black top, she wore dark dress pants and matching stilettos that emphasized her tall height.

Her shiny dark hair was down, cascading down past her chest as her bangs framed her sharp face covered in minimal makeup.

Dr. Leclair tilted her head slightly, snapping me from my thoughts and making me realize how badly I had zoned out.

Fuck.

"Let's head to my office," Dr. Leclair spoke again when I remained awkwardly silent.

I mean, I just checked her out in the middle of the fucking lobby, what else am I supposed to say?

"Have a good night," I told Dr. Kincaid, who nodded curtly in response.

"You too," Dr. Kincaid said as I walked past her toward Dr. Leclair.

Dr. Leclair didn't spare Dr. Kincaid a glance.

Instead, she watched as I walked past her, heading down the hallway.

"Enjoy your night," Dr. Leclair briefly told Dr. Kincaid, following me toward her office as her heels clicked precisely with each step.

My steps were quieter compared to hers, even in short heels.

Her office smelled just as it did on Friday, the fresh jasmine invading my senses as I walked toward the black couch.

Until I paused, my steps halting when I noticed what was waiting on the side table for me.

A lollipop.

It had a black ribbon tied neatly around it in a precise bow, making me wonder if she had taken the time out of her day to do something so small for me.

Or her patients.

Yes, her patients.

The younger ones get these too.

"Thanks, doc," I said, picking up the lollipop as I sat on the couch facing her.

"You earned it," Dr. Leclair determined, sitting in her usual chair across from me as she smoothly crossed her long leg over the other.

I nodded almost slowly, trying not to be affected by such simple words from her.

I subtly cleared my throat, "Well, not to brag or anything, but I made my bed every day since then—and I deep cleaned my apartment today," I told her, glancing down when I noticed her lips twitch up slightly.

It was another smile.

Yes, it was small, but it's still bigger than any of the others I witnessed.

"Look at you being consistent," she said, her tone holding a level of praise as she silently clasped her hands together in her lap.

"Mhm, I even skipped on wine last night," I told her, my lips spreading into an unconscious smile at the sight of hers, "Kaia was a little thrown off but it's all good now."

Dr. Leclair's faint smile faded at my words.

Almost wiped off her face before I could blink.

"Thrown off," she emphasized the words I used, wanting more of an elaboration.

"Yeah, she said I was becoming buzzkillington and then I called her an alcoholic, but we apologized and made up so everything is okay now," I explained briefly, not wanting to make something so small into a big deal.

I also decided to leave out the unnecessary detail of me fucking Kaia after.

"Buzz... killington," she tested the word out, which sounded so abnormal coming from her lips, "It's disappointing that she wasn't more supportive of your choice, Liberty."

I shrugged, "It was really just a miscommunication—she just hates drinking alone," I tried my best to tell her, hoping she understood what I was trying to explain, "I honestly shouldn't have lashed out and called her an alcoholic."

Dr. Leclair remained silent for a moment, rolling her lips into a pursed line.

For once she looked almost in thought, thinking of her next words carefully.

"I'm sure you've heard that misery likes company?" Dr. Leclair asked me, her blue eyes trailing my face.

I furrowed my brows, "Yes, but that's not Kaia. She just wanted me to be on her level," I pointed out, feeling almost defensive over my best friend.

"And what is her level?" Dr. Leclair asked me, her calm tone contrasting mine, "Do you both drink often?"

I thought for a moment about my next words.

A long moment, given I'm sitting in front of a therapist.

"Usually the weekends are when we go crazy—like letting loose and having fun, you know," I said, earning a nod of acknowledgment from Dr. Leclair, "But during the week we don't always drink. We might have wine or a cocktail with dinner."

Dr. Leclair hummed, the sound vibrating softly in her chest, "Do you think you could go a week without drinking?" she asked me, her eyes trailing my face.

I didn't hesitate to nod, "Yeah, I'm not like addicted or anything," I quickly determined.

"So right now, if we decided together that you wouldn't drink until next week. You could agree on that, Liberty?" Dr. Leclair asked me, her words careful and almost calculated.

Suddenly, this conversation felt real.

Like she was genuinely going to ask me not to drink until next week.

"I don't want to though," I suddenly said, holding her precise stare, "But I can stop if I did want to."

"So prove it."

Her words held a challenge beneath them, keeping her blue eyes locked only on me.

"You're doing that on purpose," I pointed out, knowing she was trying to challenge my ego, "I don't have to prove anything."

Dr. Leclair nodded once, "Correct," she said in agreement, naturally confusing me, "But proving it would earn you something better than a lollipop, Liberty."

My interest sparked, feeling a smile grow on my lips at her words.

"What exactly will I earn?" I asked, now opening the lollipop in my hand as the wrapper crinkled.

It was strawberry-flavored.

"I'm confident you'll find out," Dr. Leclair said, unsurprisingly withholding the details from me, "You can do anything you put your mind to, Liberty."

The air around me stilled at her serious words, sliding the lollipop past my lips as I tried to ignore the warmth brimming underneath my face.

I glanced down, noticing Dr. Leclair visibly clasp her hands tighter together.

My stare diverted up when she rolled her shoulders back, her blue eyes locked on mine as I sucked down harder on the sweet lollipop.

That's when I processed the brief silence between us, and how tense it suddenly felt.

"A week," Dr. Leclair suddenly said, her soft voice lowered between us.

I remained quiet in thought, trying to decide if I wanted to do this.

I mean, I knew I could.

And even if I did drink, she wouldn't necessarily know.

"Sure," I murmured nonchalantly, "A week," I added in agreement, slipping the lollipop out of my mouth.

Dr. Leclair's stare diverted over to the pink lollipop glistening with my saliva, her eyes briefly zoning in on it before she glanced back over to me.

"A week it is then," she determined, her blue eyes holding mine, "I'll test you after to ensure you follow through."

I shrugged, "Sounds good to me," I said, knowing a breathalyzer wouldn't hold up if I did decide to drink over the weekend.

All traces would definitely be gone by the time I'm back in this office with her.

"You'll come in for an EtG test on Monday," Dr. Leclair told me, her stare trailing my face as I tried my best not to look too taken aback, but fuck was it hard, "For reference, it detects alcohol up to four days after drinking."

"Sounds even better," I mumbled, trying not to sound standoffish.

There's no way I can drink this weekend and get away with lying about it.

Fuck her honestly.

I don't even have to prove this point.

Ugh, but I want to.

I fucking want to—what is wrong with me?

I just want to know what it'll earn me.

This shit better be fucking good.

"Let's shift to the topic of your mother," Dr. Leclair suddenly said, her soft voice calm and lowered, "What does she do that triggers you?"

I lazily raised my brows, already coming up with a list of things in my head.

It was enough to distract me from this stupid one-week alcohol cleanse that I agreed to.

I'm sure I can go a week without alcohol.

Right?

I mean, it can't be that hard.

I just won't go out this weekend, simple.

Besides, I can't back out now, especially with this possible reward.

Kaia might throw a fit though, but she'll be okay.