Pleasure Principle: Off The Clock Part 28

Elle's face lit with feigned surprise. "Oh my, I am so sorry."

Donovan hated Elle in that moment. Hated himself for ever getting involved with her. Yes, he deserved her wrath, but bringing Marin into it was taking it too far. People's f.u.c.king careers were on the line, and she was putting on some stupid performance.

Dr. Suri looked honestly stunned, her dark eyes darting from him to Marin then back. "Dr. West, what exactly is going on here? Didn't I just see a client leave this office?"

Marin stepped forward. "Dr. Suri, I'm so sorry. It was-"

"My fault," Donovan supplied. Marin's head whipped around to gawk at him. "Dr. Rush was excited about a breakthrough with a client, and I . . . I hugged her and got carried away."

Dr. Suri went ramrod straight, her demure height seeming to grow two feet. "Dr. Rush, has Dr. West been putting you in an uncomfortable situation? This inst.i.tute does not tolerate any form of s.e.xual hara.s.sment and-"

Marin put her hands up. "No. G.o.d, no. It's nothing like that," she said in a rush. "I-Donovan-well, we used to have a relations.h.i.+p. In college. And-"

"Weren't you a freshman when he was a graduate student?" Elle asked, all innocence and faux shock.

Dr. Suri's expression switched to full-out appalled.

"Wait, no, that's not what it was like. And-"

Dr. Suri cut her off with a lifted palm. "Dr. Rush, we'll talk about this separately. You shouldn't have to feel pressured by your trainer to do . . . anything."

"I don't! I'm a grown woman, we're-"

"Dr. West," Suri said, her tone like a hacksaw. "In my office. Now. I'm not going to discuss this here."

He didn't react, didn't show the devastation cras.h.i.+ng through him. He knew where this would go. This job-it once meant everything. It was his life. But losing his job would be the least of it now. He'd never forgive himself if Marin lost her spot, too. "Of course."

Elle's eyes burned into him from behind Suri's back. Checkmate. That's what this was. But she didn't seem triumphant about it anymore. Her expression had s.h.i.+fted into what almost looked like regret. Like maybe she'd just realized how far she'd taken this.

It didn't f.u.c.king matter. Elle had fired the shot, but this was his fault. He'd promised Marin he wouldn't risk her. She'd trusted him and he'd let her down. He'd ruined everything because he had no G.o.dd.a.m.ned self-control.

Marin stared at him like she was going to protest more, throw herself on a sword or something, but he gave a little headshake. This was not her fight.

He'd broken his word. This is what happened to the things he touched. His shrapnel had flown her way, drawn blood, damaged things. But he wouldn't let this hurt her any further. The best way to keep safe from shrapnel was to remove the bomb.

He walked past her without saying another word.

30.

Marin paced Donovan's living room. She'd let herself in with the key he hid outside for her, and she'd been wearing a track in his wood floors since. She'd tried to text him, but apparently, he was still in with Suri because she hadn't heard a word. And this was taking way too long for it not to be bad.

Everything looked so awful from the outside looking in. He was her trainer. She was younger. They'd been at work, embraced, almost kissing right after a client had left. G.o.d, they'd been so stupid. But when he'd looked at her the way he had today, all logic had gone out the window. She'd felt like he was going to tell her something important. Like maybe things had changed for him, too. Like maybe this experiment was turning into so much more than that.

But then everything had blown up in their faces like an atom bomb. One second-great. The next-annihilation. f.u.c.king Elle McCray. She'd apparently been biding her time and waiting for an opportunity to catch them off guard. She spent a lot of time stopping by the X-wing, presumably to consult about clients they shared, but Ysabel had commented that it was odd she was over there so much. And many times it'd been with Suri. But all it'd been was surveillance. She'd been setting this up all along, hoping to catch them. She'd probably seen Lawrence leave and then realized she and Donovan had never come out.

Marin squeezed her temples, a headache pounding behind her eyes. She would not cry. Would. Not. They would fix this. She couldn't lose this job. Donovan couldn't lose his. But s.h.i.+t, she couldn't see Suri letting them work together so closely anymore. She probably thought they were getting it on in between sessions or something. G.o.d.

The stabbing sensation in Marin's head increased and little dots of light danced in her vision. No, not now. She took a detour from her pacing and went to Donovan's room. She needed something for her head or it was going to turn into a full-blown migraine. She couldn't be laid up in bed with a migraine while all of this was going on.

She made her way to his bathroom and opened his medicine cabinet. His razor was in there along with a number of bottles. Some over-the-counter, some prescription. She skimmed over the orange ones, looking for ibuprofen or aspirin, but then her attention got hung up on one of the prescription labels. The drug name all too familiar. Not just from work but because it was one her mom had been on at some point. An antidepressant.

She stared, a record scratch sounding in her head, and picked up the bottle, hoping the name would morph into something different. The name of an antibiotic or allergy medication. But no, there it was. Donovan was taking antidepressants. And right next to that bottle were prescription sleeping pills and an antianxiety med.

She swallowed hard. It shouldn't bother her. h.e.l.l, she shouldn't even be seeing it. This was his private s.p.a.ce. His own business. These medicines helped people. If he needed that kind of help, she should be glad he was getting it. Her mom's disorder had claimed her life because she hadn't received the right medications or treatment that could've stabilized her. This didn't have to be a big deal. But Marin couldn't help her heartbeat from ticking up.

Donovan was depressed? It was hard to wrap her head around. The guy she knew had so much light in him. That smile of his was like a freaking sunrise. But even as she had the thought, she knew that wasn't the whole story. She'd only let herself read part of those pages. There were times, quiet moments, when she'd seen glimpses of the darkness, too, the sadness. It'd been there from the start. From the very first week she'd met him when she'd found him drinking and lost to grief. She'd ignored it, edited out those parts.

Her hand went sweaty against the bottle.

"You need something, Marin?"

Marin jumped and the pill bottle went tumbling to the floor. She spun around, finding Donovan looking completely blank. Not mad. Not upset. Just nothing. He reached down and picked up the bottle from the floor.

"Oh, G.o.d, I'm sorry. I had a headache and-"

He stepped past her and set the prescription on the shelf and then grabbed another bottle. He tossed it to her. Aspirin.

She caught it but couldn't take her eyes off him.

He braced his hands on the sink behind him, looking at her with an unreadable expression. "Need something else?"

Her lips parted. Shut. She forced words out that had nothing to do with the meds. "What did Suri say?"

His gaze s.h.i.+fted away to some spot on the wall. "I'm suspended until she can do a full investigation. She'll want to talk with you tomorrow, but as long as you tell her I made the first move, your job will be safe."

Marin's heart sunk. "I'm not going to tell her that."

His jaw flexed. "You should. It's the truth."

"I kissed you that first time. I wanted this as much as you did. You didn't take advantage of me, Donovan. You know that."

"Do I? You were my responsibility to train, to get you set up for success at work. But I wanted you in my bed from the moment you walked back into my life, and I made sure that happened."

"And it sure as h.e.l.l wouldn't have happened if I hadn't wanted it to. You think you have some kind of magical seduction powers that tricked me into your bed? Come on. Be serious."

He raked a hand through his hair, anger bubbling to the surface. "You were nearly a virgin, Marin. Getting you keyed up and wanting me was like shooting fish in a f.u.c.king barrel."

The words landed like acid on her. "What? Did you just call me easy?"

His eyes met hers, hardness there. "It is what it is. So tomorrow, tell her the truth. Keep your job."

She stared at him, refusing to look away despite what a f.u.c.king cold b.a.s.t.a.r.d he was being. He was trying to hurt her. She just couldn't figure out why. But she could feel the bite of it, the intent to harm. "What were you going to say before they walked in on us?"

His gaze flickered with something else for a moment but then the blank wall snapped back in place. "What?"

"You said you wanted to tell me something. What were you going to say?"

His fingers were white against the sink. "I was going to remind you that the time limit was almost done, that it was time to start wrapping this up."

She stepped forward and poked a hard finger to his chest at that. "Bulls.h.i.+t. That is bulls.h.i.+t, West." Her words fired like bullets, her finger punctuating them. "You don't look at a woman like that because you're about to break it off. Why are you being such a f.u.c.king coward right now?"

She could feel the tightness in her throat, the angry tears that wanted to spring forth, but he barely flinched. That G.o.dd.a.m.ned therapist mask. She wanted to rip it off him.

His Adam's apple bobbed, the only indication that she'd gotten something through, that somewhere in there, he heard her. "You need to go, Marin. It's not going to look good for us to be seen together."

She stared at him, so furious and hurt she could barely string words together. "So just like that? This is done, we're done?"

"I'll be fired within the week. This job, this house won't be mine anymore. Those were the only things holding me here." He took her wrist, moving her hand away from his chest and eased her back. "I told you what I was good at, Rush. Here's me doing it."

Her hands balled into fists. "That is such a s.h.i.+t thing to say. A s.h.i.+t thing. Don't be that guy. You are not that guy. I told Lawrence he was paying a high price to keep himself safe. Well, his f.u.c.king bill is nominal compared to the costs you're racking up." She pressed her hand to her chest. "This. This is the price, West. Look at me. Look at this woman who was falling in love with you and keep telling her to go to h.e.l.l. Ruin something that could be great. Put that bill on top of the stack."

He finally reacted, flinching like she'd slapped him hard. Good. She was not going to let him push her away this easily. He may not love her. But she'd be d.a.m.ned if he was going to stand here and act like he felt nothing. f.u.c.k him for that. f.u.c.k. Him.

He stepped forward and grabbed her arm. "Come here."

She stiffened at the touch and the rough hold but couldn't do anything but go with his momentum. For the first time in her life, she wanted to throw down and fight, to shake some sense into him. To wrestle him to the ground and freaking hit him. But when he ground to a halt, he spun them both to face the beautiful cityscape of San Francisco.

"Look at that picture, Marin."

She blinked, thrown off her angry tirade for a second by the non sequitur. "What? Why?"

"You know where I took that from?"

The bay was stretched out in front of the city, the hilly streets dotted with colorful buildings. "From a bridge."

"Yes. From the Golden Gate." His grip on her arm tightened. "After I caught Selena cheating, I left L.A. and just drove, not knowing where I was going, not having anywhere to go. I ended up in San Francisco. And when I took that photo, with that bay rolling beneath me, I had one glaring thought running through my head. That if I jumped, no one would care. That I wouldn't care."

The words. .h.i.t her like a blow to the chest. "Donovan . . ."

"Yeah. That's what guy I am. The broken kind. The kind you can't count on. I told you that from the start."

Her stomach was knotted, her emotions curling in on themselves. Donovan had thought about suicide. Donovan kept a picture of the moment in his room. "Why did you hang it on your wall?"

It was easier than asking why he'd wanted to die. It was the only thing she could get out.

"Because some days I'm still on that bridge. Me up there alone and the world going on across the water, doing just fine without me. I walk past this photo every day to remind myself to keep moving forward. Not to stop and risk taking the photo. It can't catch me if I don't stop moving."

She closed her eyes, pain seeping into her. Is that what it had felt like for her mom? She'd gone a hundred miles an hour until she couldn't. Until all got still and quiet and dark. Until the monster she was running from won. "What happened that night?"

He let out a tired breath, a weary one. "I stood on the bridge and almost jumped. I'd like to say my education stopped me, that I recognized the signs that I was in trouble. But it wasn't that. Someone saw me and called nine-one-one. Paxton was still my emergency contact, so when he got the call, he flew in to help me get my head straight. I spent thirty days at a facility just like The Grove. Then Pax sent me here to bury myself in work." He turned her toward him, his eyes sad, some of the Donovan she knew coming back. "You told Lawrence today that he had pinned his hopes on a fantasy woman who didn't really exist. Well, this guy you think you're falling in love with isn't real either. I'm still messed up, Marin. I don't sleep well. I get bouts of depression. I keep the meds around because I go through rough patches. This needed to be temporary because I'm temporary. This version of me is temporary."

Tears burned her eyes now. "It doesn't have to be that way."

"It is that way. And you don't need that. You've already spent way too much time taking care of the people in your life. Too much time worrying. I don't need you worrying about me, too. And I don't want you to see that side of me. I like how you see me. What we've had here has been great. Like that week in college. Perfection immortalized in time because we didn't let it go long enough to mess it up. Let's keep it that way. Let it stand on its own, and we can call on that memory when we need it."

She shook her head, tears tracking silently over her cheeks but fierce determination welling in her. "I don't want a trophy on my mantel, Donovan. I don't want a memory of happiness. I want happiness. And when we're together we have that. I'm not saying your depression isn't real or that I can fix it." She swiped at her cheeks. "Believe me, if anyone knows about the power of brain chemicals, it's me. But that disease preys on loneliness and you're feeding it. You're feeding it by pus.h.i.+ng me and everyone else away and not fighting harder to keep this job or what we have going. What if opening yourself up to someone helps? What if when the darkness. .h.i.ts, you have me here to chase it with you?"

"I don't need a nurse," he said, the words sharp.

"That's not what I'm saying." She threw her hands out to her sides. "h.e.l.l, you act like I'd be signing up to be with some ticking time bomb, but have you thought about me? The risk label that comes along with my history? I have no idea if one day my mom's disorder is going to sneak up and wrap its arms around me. My mom wasn't diagnosed until her twenties. The docs think having a baby set off the imbalance. What if that happens to me?"

She'd never voiced that blinding fear out loud, but there it was. She wasn't in the clear. She could have to face those demons, too. It kept her up at night sometimes. And hearing the words ringing in her ears, made her feel chilled all over.

"But it's not going to stop me from living my life. How many people come through the doors of The Grove who are managing just fine despite their challenges? These things don't doom us. We fight. Everybody fights. Every single person out there in the world has something to deal with. And people still find happiness and success and love and live full lives. That's the whole point of our job. If it were hopeless, why would we go into work every day and try to help our clients? What would be the point? And what if we're just what each other needs? Have you ever thought of that? I know it hasn't been long, but what if the universe is giving us our shot and we're turning our backs on it? What if this could really be something?"

He stared at her a long time, his gaze holding so much, but then he shook his head and stepped back with a smirk. "I can't believe you're going there. The One, Marin? I told you there's no such thing. And if there is, I'm not it. You've only slept with one guy. You're attaching to what's familiar. Once I leave, you'll see that. You've just got s.e.x brain. This isn't love and was never going to be."

The words splashed over her like icy-cold water. She wanted to get through to him, knew this was his defense mode, but she'd be d.a.m.ned if she was going to stand here and be insulted, her feelings belittled. "So that's it, huh? I lie about what happened. You get fired. And see ya in another life?"

He crossed his arms, that steel gate sliding back in place. "I never lied to you, Marin. I told you what this was from the start."

She gritted her teeth and tossed the bottle of aspirin onto the bed with a rattle. "You didn't lie to me. But you're certainly good at lying to yourself." She stabbed him with a look. "Watch me walk away, Donovan, and know that you're not doing this for my own good. You're not the martyr here. You're doing it because you're f.u.c.king scared."

She turned on her heel and strode out. Past the guest room where he'd surprised her in the closet. Past the island he'd spread her out on. Past the table where they'd shared so many nights, laughing and being the one thing Donovan claimed he couldn't be . . . happy.

She didn't look back. She wouldn't allow herself to.

But when she made it to her front door, she fell the f.u.c.k apart.

31.

Marin took a minute at her door, trying to regain her composure and not walk in a sniveling mess in front of Nate. She wiped her face and evened out her breathing and prayed that he was in his room or the kitchen so she could sneak by. But when she walked in, she saw immediately that there was no shot of going unnoticed. Because not only was Nate there but so was the pink-haired girl, Blaine. But they weren't discussing art this time or choosing which pizza to order. There'd be no room for discussion with the way they were all twisted up on the couch, Nate with a big handful of b.o.o.b and his tongue in Blaine's mouth.

What. The. f.u.c.k? Marin thought the words were in her head, but apparently they'd slipped out because the two teens immediately jumped away from each other, Nate's hand getting tangled in Blaine's s.h.i.+rt liked it'd turned into a Venus flytrap.

"s.h.i.+t." Nate yanked his hand back and looked to Marin with wide eyes.

Blaine tugged down her s.h.i.+rt and scrambled up from the couch, panic on her face. "Uh, hi, yeah, I've gotta go."

"Wait." Nate reached for her, but Blaine was already grabbing her flip-flops and hauling a.s.s toward the back door. Face as pink as her hair.

The screen door slapped the backside of the house and the reverb of silence was deafening. Nate looked back to Marin, surprise morphing into full out annoyance. "Jesus, Mar. What the h.e.l.l are you doing home so early?"

The sharpness in his tone had her drawing up. He was going to come at her. Oh, h.e.l.l no. "What are you doing feeling up a girl on my couch when you're dating Henry? What are you doing feeling up a girl at all?"

Nate grimaced and tugged a hand through his hair. "I don't want to talk about it."