Evan pulled his white mustang to halt next to Samantha’s Honda Accord and eyed her front porch skeptically. He figured she’d be outside waiting for him, but she wasn’t. He got out of his car and slowly approached the front steps, taking them one by one. His stomach was in knots. God, what if she’s pregnant?
A stemless wine glass set empty on the table beside the white rocking chair. That’s a good sign, he thought. Then, before Evan could knock, the front door opened, and his mouth dropped at the sight before him.
Samantha wore a white button-up blouse, a black pencil skirt, nude nylon tights, and black high heels. She had pulled her long, brown hair into a high ponytail. The wavy tendrils escaping the hair tie draped loosely over her right shoulder. Sitting atop her button nose were black cat-eye frames. Evan guessed they were just for show. She looked hot.
She looked like a therapist.
“Hi, Evan. Come in and sit down. Let’s get to work.” Samantha took Evan’s hand and led him to her living room. The blinds were all closed, making the room dark. Several lit candles scattered throughout the room, casting shadows on the wall. Evan caught a whiff of vanilla, Dr. Nelson’s favorite scent.
“What are you doing?” Evan asked without objecting to her direction.
“Shhh.” She turned to him, placing her pointer finger over her mouth. “I’m asking the questions today.” Samantha placed her hands on Evan’s shoulders and pushed him into a seated position on the plush armchair in the center of her living room. He didn’t remember the chair being there the last time he was at her house.
She took a seat directly across from him in a matching chair. Then, crossing one leg over the other, she grinned. “How was your day, Evan?”
What the hell is she doing? “Seriously, cut the shit, Samantha. Are you pregnant or not?”
Samantha laughed and reached for a piece of hair, twirling it around her pointer finger.
Evan’s mind brought him back to the day in Dr. Nelson’s office when his therapist did the same thing. He then realized what Samantha was trying to pull.
She knew about Dr. Nelson.
Evan stood and towered over Samantha, who continued staring at him with a wide grin. “Are you pregnant, or not?”
Samantha reached for his hand. “Chill out, Evan. Sit down, and we can talk about it.”
Evan was pissed. It took everything he had not to walk out the door. She was playing with his emotions, and she was winning. He couldn’t leave, though. He had to know if he was going to be a father. He sat back down and stared blankly at Samantha, trying to suppress his other thoughts about how hot she was at that moment. She looked so much like Dr. Nelson. It drove him crazy.
Samantha kept her legs crossed and leaned back into her chair. “I’m not pregnant.”
Evan let out a big sigh of relief as he closed his eyes. Thank God. His thoughts turned to Emma. He didn’t have to tell her what a shitty person he was. He could walk out Samantha’s door, and he and Emma could have a fresh start. Emma wouldn’t have to know a thing about his terrible betrayals. He could be the person she always wanted. He could be the person that she deserved.
Or could he?
Evan opened his eyes and glared at Samantha. “What’s all this? What are you trying to pull?”
Samantha’s expression turned serious. “I want to help you, Evan.”
“Why the hell do you think I need help?”
“Let me just say; I have a theory.”
“About what?” Evan watched as Samantha twirled another piece of hair around her pointer finger.
“I think I know why you’re so attracted to me.”
Evan guessed where Samantha was going with this. She had to know about his therapist. But how? Then, he realized he had only ever told one person about Dr. Nelson.
He had no other choice. He had to bite. “What’s your theory?”
“I think that you like me because I look like the therapist that you fell in love with when you were a kid.”
So, she did know.
Samantha stood, lifted her pencil skirt and proceeded to straddle Evan.
He knew he should object, but he didn’t. Instead, he let her settle on his lap while his hands remained loosely on the arms rests.
Samantha touched Evan’s cheek softly. “It can be our little secret, Evan. You can play out your fantasy with me and go home to be the best boyfriend you can be. Trust me.”
He knew he shouldn’t trust Samantha, but at that moment, he didn’t care.