Read Online Declare (Declan Reede: The Untold Story #4) by Michelle Irwin - Free Book Online
Authors: Michelle Irwin
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whispered before running for the door.
I growled to the empty night. I was alone, pissed off, and had a raging boner to contend with.
Fuck my life.
After a moment, I sucked down a breath and followed Alyssa into the house. Even if I had no chance of getting lucky, at least I could apologise so I didn’t spend the rest of the week in the doghouse. Sometimes being a grown-up wasn’t much fun.
CHAPTER FIVE: WHAT’S IN A DATE?
OVER THE NEXT few weeks, we both became time poor and exhausted from the combination of both working full-time and childrearing, making the well dry up even more. I was nearly at the end of my rope most nights, and most mornings I had to service myself in the shower just to get through the day.
Two afternoons a week, I left work early. On Danny’s insistence—and because he was picking up the tab—I started back with private weekly sessions with Dr. Henrikson. In addition, I went with Alyssa one afternoon a week for couples’ counselling. It had actually been her suggestion. Rather than simply enjoying our post-setting-a-date high, she’d pushed for the appointments. Even though I wanted nothing more than to tell her to fuck off when she made the suggestion, she’d quickly backed it up by saying that she wanted to make sure everything was on the table before we took the final plunge so we could enter married life unencumbered by the shit of our past.
I couldn’t say I blamed her for wanting that.
Maybe it was too early to judge, but the sessions we’d been to so far seemed like a waste of time to me. We never talked about the future during our joint sessions, and despite the reason Alyssa wanted to start them, we rarely talked about the past, either. It was only when something was said that hit one of our “hot buttons” that we would discuss anything other than our day-to-day lives.
All we seemed to do was rehash what had happened during the week between our visits, talking about our high points and our low points. Alyssa had blushed scarlet when I’d listed her giving me a midnight blow job as a high point in one session, but Dr. Henrikson hadn’t even blinked. I often spent the sessions wondering why we were paying to see someone to do what we could do at home for free. After all, it wasn’t like he was helping us through issues the way he did with me privately.
At one of my private sessions, the irritation became too much and it all boiled over.
“Declan, you are the one who requested additional meetings,” Dr. Henrikson responded calmly. “I just want to ensure that you have the space and tools to discuss your lives and any issues which may arise in a calm and rational manner. That will be the key to a successful, long-term marriage. If you wish to stop our sessions, just say the word.”
“Alyssa wouldn’t like that,” I grumbled.
“Have you asked her?”
I stared at him blankly.
“Have you asked her how she feels about the sessions? Whether they are a benefit to her? Whether she feels they are a benefit to you both?”
I shook my head and crossed my arms.
“Talk to her about it.”
“What’s the point?” I said. “She’s the one who wanted to do weekly fucking sessions.”
“The point is to communicate,” he replied.
I harrumphed and crossed my arms tighter. He correctly interpreted it as a desire to change the subject.
“How’s the Mini coming along?” he asked, almost conversationally.
I groaned and buried my head in my hands, thinking of the disastrous attempt at testing a few days earlier.
The car had fit me like a pair of boxers two sizes too small. With all the gizmos, gauges, and gadgets squeezed into the cabin with me, there was barely room to move. In fact, everything was so cramped and tiny, I could practically taste my balls. Worse, I’d barely had ten minutes on the test track before my time was cut short when Hunter decided he needed to urgently test some adjustments made to his car.
The call in my ear telling me to
I growled to the empty night. I was alone, pissed off, and had a raging boner to contend with.
Fuck my life.
After a moment, I sucked down a breath and followed Alyssa into the house. Even if I had no chance of getting lucky, at least I could apologise so I didn’t spend the rest of the week in the doghouse. Sometimes being a grown-up wasn’t much fun.
CHAPTER FIVE: WHAT’S IN A DATE?
OVER THE NEXT few weeks, we both became time poor and exhausted from the combination of both working full-time and childrearing, making the well dry up even more. I was nearly at the end of my rope most nights, and most mornings I had to service myself in the shower just to get through the day.
Two afternoons a week, I left work early. On Danny’s insistence—and because he was picking up the tab—I started back with private weekly sessions with Dr. Henrikson. In addition, I went with Alyssa one afternoon a week for couples’ counselling. It had actually been her suggestion. Rather than simply enjoying our post-setting-a-date high, she’d pushed for the appointments. Even though I wanted nothing more than to tell her to fuck off when she made the suggestion, she’d quickly backed it up by saying that she wanted to make sure everything was on the table before we took the final plunge so we could enter married life unencumbered by the shit of our past.
I couldn’t say I blamed her for wanting that.
Maybe it was too early to judge, but the sessions we’d been to so far seemed like a waste of time to me. We never talked about the future during our joint sessions, and despite the reason Alyssa wanted to start them, we rarely talked about the past, either. It was only when something was said that hit one of our “hot buttons” that we would discuss anything other than our day-to-day lives.
All we seemed to do was rehash what had happened during the week between our visits, talking about our high points and our low points. Alyssa had blushed scarlet when I’d listed her giving me a midnight blow job as a high point in one session, but Dr. Henrikson hadn’t even blinked. I often spent the sessions wondering why we were paying to see someone to do what we could do at home for free. After all, it wasn’t like he was helping us through issues the way he did with me privately.
At one of my private sessions, the irritation became too much and it all boiled over.
“Declan, you are the one who requested additional meetings,” Dr. Henrikson responded calmly. “I just want to ensure that you have the space and tools to discuss your lives and any issues which may arise in a calm and rational manner. That will be the key to a successful, long-term marriage. If you wish to stop our sessions, just say the word.”
“Alyssa wouldn’t like that,” I grumbled.
“Have you asked her?”
I stared at him blankly.
“Have you asked her how she feels about the sessions? Whether they are a benefit to her? Whether she feels they are a benefit to you both?”
I shook my head and crossed my arms.
“Talk to her about it.”
“What’s the point?” I said. “She’s the one who wanted to do weekly fucking sessions.”
“The point is to communicate,” he replied.
I harrumphed and crossed my arms tighter. He correctly interpreted it as a desire to change the subject.
“How’s the Mini coming along?” he asked, almost conversationally.
I groaned and buried my head in my hands, thinking of the disastrous attempt at testing a few days earlier.
The car had fit me like a pair of boxers two sizes too small. With all the gizmos, gauges, and gadgets squeezed into the cabin with me, there was barely room to move. In fact, everything was so cramped and tiny, I could practically taste my balls. Worse, I’d barely had ten minutes on the test track before my time was cut short when Hunter decided he needed to urgently test some adjustments made to his car.
The call in my ear telling me to
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