Read Online Pretty and Reckless by Charity Ferrell - Free Book Online Page B

can remember. All of my friends have to be approved by him.” He obviously wasn’t doing a good job at that because I got in more trouble when I was with them. “He has to approve of the guys I date, and every single one is a jackass. I think he knows that. He knows they’re never serious. He doesn’t want anyone to take me away from him unless he’s getting something in return.”
    We were interrupted by a knock on the door, and a blonde woman came walking in. Her hair was tied into a bun at the base of her neck, and a black pantsuit was covering her skinny figure. “Hey Wes,” she said, her deep red lips smiling. “Sorry to interrupt you, but I have an appointment in five minutes.” She looked at him apologetic. “Next time give me more of a heads up and I’ll get you extra time.”
    “That’s fine, thanks Wendy.” She glanced over at me, giving me a tiny smile. I was waiting for her to say something, but she just stared before turning away and leaving the room.
    “I’ll see you tomorrow?” Weston asked, pushing himself up from the chair. “Come a little earlier so we have more time.”
    “Why are you doing this?” I asked, getting up.
    “I told you why. I want you to love yourself. My goal is for you to see your worth.”
    I tapped my head with the tip of my finger. “I’ve got some crazy shit in here.”
    He stopped in front of me before I left the room. He stood just inches away from me, his eyes down casting to my face, and his hands smoothed down my hair. “I told you I want it all,” he said, poking my temple. “And that’s what you’re going to give me.”
    “Good luck, figuring me out is like fighting off a gang of pirates, surviving the Bermuda triangle, and then catching a mermaid.”
    “Well love, I’m always up for a good challenge.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

 
    ELISE

 
 
    “You use sex and alcohol to numb yourself,” Weston said. “I’m sure you know that. I’m also certain you know it’s dangerous. Those men don’t care about you. They only care about what you give them.   After that, they can drop you off on the corner, or they can kill you and throw you in a ditch, or an abandoned alley.”
    I told myself last night I wasn’t showing up again today. I wasn’t going to talk to him again. We had our one meeting, I told him how I felt and that was it. But when he texted me this morning, telling me he had bagels and coffee, he somehow convinced me to come. Or at least that was my excuse to see him again.
    I didn’t want to tell him, but he’d been right. It was refreshing, almost liberating, to get everything out and not worry about him telling anyone. I could tell him my side of the story and be done with it.
    But I was getting to know him just as well as he was me . I’d learned he didn’t hold back. He wasn’t afraid to speak the truth or call me out on my bullshit. He didn’t cower or keep quiet about issues other therapists had strayed away from.
    “I know that,” I replied, defensively. “I don’t think it’s that unusual, though. People do it all of the time. Sex gives people a high. It makes us feel better, whether you’re drunk, in love, out of love. People have sex romantically, casually, or sadistically. Either way, they do it because it gives them a rush. It gives them a high that makes them feel wanted, something they feel they need in that moment. Sex is not only for people who are in love.”
    I shook my head before going on. “Parents try to convince their children that they need to wait for love because they don’t want them out spreading their legs and fucking everyone in sight. Love is a joke. We all know eventually most of them are going to fuck and chances are they don’t love that someone.”
    I thought back to the many men I’d willingly gone down on in dirty bathroom stalls in random clubs, and the ones who’d taken me home but never bothered to give me a ride or cab fare afterwards. I never had sex with a man who cared about me